May as well give my blog a little bit of life support once every year or so.
Fawlty Towers, as I'm sure you don't need me to tell you, is a British sitcom which ran for two seasons in 1975 and 1979 respectively. The brain-child of Monty Python alum John Cleese and his wife (half the time anyway) Connie Booth, the series is considered by many, including this gratuitously humble blogger, to be one of the funniest shows ever condemned to television.
I say that as objectively as possible, which identifying something as 'funny' is anything but objective. If people find something funny, it's funny, no matter how predictable or boring or mundane or cheap or uninspired it clearly is; terribly unfunny people have gone on to have insanely successful careers in the field.
So perhaps calling the show funny is a less than ideal access point. Instead what I can acknowledge is the sheer amount of time and discipline that went into the twelve scripts as well as the near universal appeal of the eccentric characters. And for those of us who've had any interest in studying comedy, Fawlty Towers is a required textbook.
Cleese, who I'll refer to as John for a bit because he gave one of my Tweets a 'like' awhile back and I feel that was just asking for a parasocial relationship, was coming off of the creative energy of Monty Python's first three seasons. According to sources (go find sources for more details) his inner writer was hungering for something not Pythonesque. The seed of Donald Sinclair had begun to sprout in his mind.
Sinclair was, John's words, "the rudest man I've ever come across in my life", but being one of comedy's apex writers became fascinated with him. Sinclair was a hotel owner. Viewing his reputation through the lens of today's mental health lens, he probably had some kind of generalized anger disorder, as everything that Sinclair's job required of him was treated as an inconvenience, particularly the demands/existence of his hotel guests.
John spent as much time as he could absorbing Sinclair's abrasiveness, even bringing Connie Booth in for backup. Connie was an actress who would eventually become a psychotherapist, and those two points on her journey paint a fairly clear picture of how her skillset would translate into writing character driven comedy. It was John who insisted that his post-Python BBC program(me) would be a joint project with Connie.
It's here that I want to take a moment to appreciate how valuable Connie Booth's contribution to modern comedy actually is. Fawlty Towers is the trope-namer for several terms in the comedy writer's glossary, not the least of which is the Fawlty Towers Plot. In essence, it's a character tells a lie, which requires them to tell another lie, and then it snowballs into absurd humiliation. It's been standard fare throughout the history of satire but when handled with mediocrity it comes off as eye-rolling. Why don't the characters just hang it up?
But Fawlty Towers perfected comedic motive. Basil simply cannot admit to his initial lie because he's that underdeveloped as a human being. The audience recognizes this from the beginning and believes the lengths such an awful person will go to just to not have to face any consequences. That legitimacy really feels like it's a Connie influence, and it set a very high bar that only comedy writers of self-respect can hope to reach.
Here then is my purely objective unbiased ranking of the twelve episodes.
12. Waldorf Salad (series 2 episode 9)
This is the only episode in the series that I honestly think isn't good, which surprises me how well it's received in Britain. Mr. Hamilton is an American, apparently a first for the hotel, and he comes in with a sense of entitlement (expecting the kitchen to remain open for him, ordering food not on the menu). And he complains. And complains. And complains. Kind of like what I'm about to do.
I get it. We're the nation of extreme individualization, for better and very worse. My problem isn't with any criticism lobbed towards us. My problem is: One, Mr. Hamilton isn't a remotely likable character. Two, he's presented at the 'hero' of the episode who puts Basil in his place. And three, this is the big one, very little happens in this episode. Seeing John pretend to berate someone who isn't there is more tedious than amusing; it's an old cartoon bit that really requires a defiance of physics to pull off. By the third time the courtesy laugh has run well into irritability.
If Mr. Hamilton had been a likable American, perhaps even admiring the lengths Basil was going to in order to keep up the charade, there may have been more to work with. But as it stands, you probably have to be a British Boomer to experience the alleged catharsis that the episode insists it is.
11. The Psychiatrist (series 2 episode 8)
This episode is much better written and paced, with gags carefully set up and paid off. But I rank it so low because of one fundamental issue, Basil suffers entirely too much humiliation.
Basil is a villain protagonist, a mostly harmless one but nonetheless the embodiment of self-centeredness that creates the most loveable villains. Why loveable? Simple. We were all children at one point. We all tried to get away with shit that we knew was wrong and would get a comeuppance for. That's why we connect so strongly with Basil's man-child mentality, he represents something familiar to us. We don't want him to win, but we don't want him to lose either. He's our coyote; we want him to keep fighting fate with a delusion that somehow there's that one clever lie that will pull him back to the status quo.
It starts with the problem of him being right, unimportantly so but right nonetheless. Watching the universe dangle this one small victory in front of him and repeatedly yank it away crosses the line from funny to painful by the end of the episode. Our loveable villain is utterly broken by the time the closing credits role and it just feels wrong to not give the last line to Polly, were she to sit on the floor next to him and give him some guarded empathy.
10. Gourmet Night (series 1 episode 5)
All things being equal, this episode is probably not as sophisticatedly written as The Psychiatrist. Plot-wise it lands on the lower end of 'stuff happening' than the average Fawlty Towers story, which may be a blessing in disguise as we usually don't get much breathing room. This is the only real time in series one that Cybil isn't relegated to being Basil's antagonist and it's a decent peek at what their marriage looks like when their goals are tentatively in unison.
Having Manuel be sexually assaulted off-camera was likely a Connie Booth contribution as it isn't played for laughs, and our sympathies are entirely meant to be against Basil's insistence that one kiss from the guest chef wasn't a big deal. It's a fascinating comparison to how much violent abuse Manuel takes from Basil over the course of the series that we accept as cartoon-like.
But the reason this episode inches ahead of The Psychiatrist is because it contains the biggest belly-laugh moment in the entire sitcom's run. To anyone who's ever had a meltdown over car trouble, Basil is a patron hero.
9. The Wedding Party (series 1 episode 3)
This is the only episode that I have to stop and think about what actually happened. I remember it as the one with the French woman where Manuel was hungover and Polly slipped out of the dress; and none of those things seem to identify the plot. Basically this one is the sex comedy episode where there's not any real sex but Basil is imagining it everywhere.
The highs of this episode never get too far away from the median, making this one feel mediocre for Fawlty Towers; i.e. still paddling circles around most Brit Coms. At the same time there's something special that this episode has, a handful of characters who actually seem to like Basil, in a Scrooge's nephew kind of way. The French woman in particular demonstrates a fondness for him which adds a smidge of an emotional stake when it looks like he's going to sever that connection by being Basil. An okay episode that should probably have ended a scene sooner than it does.
8. The Anniversary (series 2 episode 11)
My God this episode is hard for me to watch. I rank it above The Wedding Party because it is in fact very carefully written and built to its climax, and it also feels like a bit of an experiment for Cleese and Booth to explore, which they do to success; what would happen if we actually gave a damn about Basil and Cybil's marriage?
The distinction between comedy and tragedy depends on how you feel about the character who's suffering. I find that my sense of tragedy is notably higher than the average audience member; which is to say in Cleese's otherwise hysterical script for A Fish Called Wanda, the scenes involving animal death evoked the loudest gales of laughter from the people around me while my sense of humor came to a painful stop.
The line is different for everyone, and for me this episode is right on mine. I don't want these characters to get hurt, and I have concern with the potential long term effects of the events therein. But I also recognize I'm prissy and just about anyone else would find the episode hilarious. So, eighth ranking.
7. The Hotel Inspectors (series 1 episode 4)
I don't have many criticisms for the rest of the show left, so from here on out it's going to be which episode did it best.
The Hotel Inspectors is primarily remembered for Bernard Cribbins's turn as the humorless Mr. Hutchinson. And for good reason, he's hilarious. His, Cleese's, and Booth's visual routine of looking at the wrong person was worthy of the greatest vaudeville bits. Alas, I don't remember much about the episode when Cribbins isn't on camera, save for a bit with a wine bottle that was a gift from God.
Ultimately it's a great episode that winds up in the thankless bottom spot of the seven great episodes purely because I have very little to say about it
6. The Builders (series 1 episode 2)
Cleese himself called this one the weakest episode, which I obviously disagree. Prunella Scales gets to shine in all her pushed-over-the-edge fury. It was good to give Cybil a meltdown early in the series so we can understand why exactly Basil is so afraid of her, even if her beating of her husband and his builder with an umbrella looks sadly community theater.
It's worth noting that if Scales and Cleese's genders and/or heights were reversed for such a scene I find it hard to believe anyone would be laughing at it. You could argue it's assault, abuse even, but comedically it's okay because there's no doubt that Basil has it coming to him and we know he can take it. Food for thought; the lines of comedy make for a fascinating study.
What else can you say about an episode with lots of slapstick and screaming but poor Manuel. His heart's always in the right place, but there's the perpetual communication problems. Hey! Speaking of...
5. Communication Problems (series 2 episode 7)
If you're familiar with Marx Brothers films you've probably noticed how Groucho typically starts in an antagonized position from his brothers and ends up on the same side as them when a bigger antagonist takes the stage. In other words, their films are about them becoming the Marx Brothers. A similar idea happened in A Fish Called Wanda where it wasn't until the end that we got a Python reunion.
The core cast of Towers was so often at each other's throats that they rarely functioned as a unit, and this episode almost got them to cooperate (Cybil being the holdout) against a common enemy in the form of Joan Sanderson's short-tempered Mrs. Richards. Anyone who's worked in customer service can recognize Mrs. Richards, and it's cathartic to see the whole hotel staff in agreement that she is, in fact, a difficult patron. They each deal with her in their own way; Polly in particular shows off a passive-aggressive side that I wish we'd seen more of.
This episode gave us not one, but two all time great comedy routines; Basil and Manuel's "Your horse Nitwit", and Polly's soul breaking attempts to read Basil's pantomime. A true classic.
4. The Germans (series 1 episode 6)
With a similar structure to The Builders, The Germans is practically three mini-episodes loosely tied together. There's even fade outs on top of punch lines to separate the acts. The Germans is essentially minisode three, and the episode could easily have been called The Moose Head or The Fire Drill.
When people think of Fawlty Towers this is probably the first episode that comes to mind, and from start to finish it's pretty solid. There's not much to say that hasn't been said countless times before (God bless Andrew Sachs for enduring second degree chemical burns). I guess the only thing of note I can add is how little screen time Cybil is given, and yet her presence is still felt through the whole proceeding. The entire middle segment (my favorite if I have to choose) she's only represented by the ringing of the phone, and yet she's such a strong character that your brain can easily fill in all of Basil's pauses.
A damn near perfect episode.
3. Basil the Rat (series 2 episode 12)
The series finale ends on a high, and where Communication Problems almost brought the whole cast together, this one finally does it. The hotel is in danger of being shut down due to the unannounced arrival of a health inspector.
Were this an American show, the health inspector would be relegated to an antagonistic role and treated with no respect. But in this delightfully British script, the inspector is established up front as being in the right, and the way he gives the hotel staff time to improve before his final report comes from a place of basic human kindness. Unfortunately Manuel's pet rat (probably) shuts the hotel down for good.
Every character, including second series addition Terry the chef, gets moments to shine, but perhaps the peak is when Cybil unknowingly participates in her husband's usual shenanigans with the best delivery of the recurring line "He's from Barcelona". In the end, all the women can do is smile as Basil is dragged through the dining room unconscious. Farewell, Fawlty Towers.
2. A Touch of Class (series 1 episode 1)
While the series ended on a high, it started with a real bang. Everything is covered in the episode; Basil's scheming, Cybil's sharp tongue, Manuel's sycophancy paired with his language barrier, and Polly's ever suffering ignored voice of reality. And unlike the rest of the series, this episode ends with a few minutes of denouement before delivering the honest-to-God mother of all punch lines.
Cleese's portrayal of Donald Sinclair is always strangely sweet natured; odd given Cleese's own assessment that Basil is a truly awful man. The ending to this episode is one of the rare times Basil looks genuinely hurt, in this case by the dressing down he received from the very upper class he always aspired to imagine himself. That pathos bleeds through the cartoon character of a man who's so verbally (and to Manuel, physically) abusive, we can't help but pity him. Why is that?
My guess is, it's because Basil is the universe's chew toy, forever pummeled by his gods (the writers) and too helpless to do anything but rant about it. He's Charlie Brown with Lucy's temperament, and no matter how stupid he's willing to look he will never accept his defeat.
1. The Kipper and the Corpse (series 2 episode 10)
Okay, so this is the one I've chosen as the best of the best. For once Basil doesn't bring his misfortune on himself when a sick guest dies in the hotel. Apparently this is a common occurrence at hotels, but for the Fawltys this is their first such crisis, and getting the body to the coroner's truck without any of the other guests finding out proves to be an impossibility.
The chaos gets so out of control that neither the perpetually put-upon Manuel nor the always rushing to catch up Polly, nor even consummate liar Basil can keep up with who's been told what regarding the layers of charades. The 'Screw this, I'm out of here' ending is hilariously cathartic.
And thus the curtain falls on the apex of British comedy. It burned bright and short, like a sparkler. And while it's unfair to say there will never be another like it, fifty years later there hasn't been. Thank God for syndication, for there will always be a new generation to care for a rat.
