There’s this feeling I get when I see a new comedy show and realize it’s going to change my life. It’s like the first time you masturbate and suddenly you’re like, oh, wow, that’s… I can see why people like that.
The first time I watched The Mighty Boosh, I was sick with the flu. As my sister will tell you, I was acting “crabby and unpleasant.” I wasn’t even in the mood for living to see the dawn let alone some weird avant-garde comedy show from Britain. But once it started… It’s like each joke builds on the last until you forget where your body is in space. In actuality it’s buoyed on a cloud of hot steaming yuks, but you don’t know that. All you know is Milky Joe, an eccentric intellectual coconut with a penchant for fossils and Jean-Paul Sartre, is helping Howard build a proper desert island home.
The stars of The Mighty Boosh, Howard Moon (Julian Barratt) and Vince Noir (Noel Fielding) are perhaps the most infinitely watchable duo since Bob Odenkirk and David Cross on Mister Show (the subject of next week’s “It’ll Change Your Life”). They’re obviously genius writers (along with the other members of their comedy troupe) but its the unlikely pairing—Howard’s jazz-loving, shorts-wearing, underdogedness to Vince’s dandy, French-duke-style lady killer—that really sets up the jokes and knocks them down.
As it happens, Howard Moon is Britain’s leading cream poet:
The cast of strange characters never fails to delight—from Naboo, the tiny, frog-squeezing shaman; to Tommy Nookah who’s head has turned to cheese; to Feilding’s moon man, his face covered in shaving cream, a pre-Hugo tribute to Georges Méliès.
Vince and Howard’s head-to-head, tag-team verbal jousting, set amidst the absurdist magic-filled Zooniverse, makes for a non-stop, rapid-fire, semi-improvisational wet dream. When something so surreal and groundbreakingly original can also be accessible, personable and popular, you’ve got a classic. Mix in an original electro-pop dance number and this girl is beans on toast.
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