Power Monkeys
Note: This review is from 2016
Well, you can’t fault it for topicality – but is it funny?
The selling point of Channel 4’s new comedy Power Monkeys is that much of it is written on the day of transmission. So jokes about Muhammad Ali’s funeral, Sports Direct, the extension of the voting registration, and the Cameron-Farage debate can not so much be weaved into the plot as be its entire raison d’etre.
The EU referendum is, of course, the basis for this follow-up to last year’s election-themed Ballot Monkeys, and even revives a couple of the characters: Andy Nyman’s Gerry and posh-but-dim Tory gopher Ruby (Liz Kingsman) as well as the battle-bus setting for the Outers. Meanwhile, the Remain camp are represented by the Tory Unity Unit, run by a jaded and harassed Oliver, well-using Jack Dee’s strengths as a performer.
One drawback over its predecessor is nothing that writers Andy Hamilton and Guy Jenkin can do much about – and it’s that the referendum campaign has been largely dull compared to the election one: both sides entrenched and not too prone to panicky, easily-mockable stunts like Miliband’s ‘Ed Stone’.
Hence the inclusion of scenes set aboard Trump’s private jet – a long way from the British ‘No Thank EU’ coach – and in the Kremlin to broaden the focus. In the first episode, these seemed like distractions, especially when they ended up referring to British stories anyway, though Ben Willbond’s Putin apparatchik was the epitome of inscrutable Russian cool.
The cast, who’d have little time to learn their lines, is very strong, creating credible characters echoing from the real world. This is what will ultimately make or break Power Monkeys. Drop The Dead Donkey, Hamilton and Jenkin’s breakthrough show, was built on the great ensemble more that the topical jokes – but just one episode into this, it’s hard to guess how this will develop.
Cynical Oliver certainly is a standout, as, too, is Spencer, an old-school Ukipper spouting any old nonsense nonsense just to get attention – an only marginally exaggerated creation that could have come from Harry Enfield's mind, though Kevin McNally was just as good as realising it.
Sticking with the Brexiteers, the ambitious, and possibly opportunistic Preeya, was clearly inspired by Priti Patel, but doesn’t seem to have much to do yet, although the disconnect between professional campaigners and the ragtag group of pensioners who represent the grassroots is a nice joke. For Remain, Claire Skinner as Sarah is so warm she even makes the Tories seem human, though Ruby stupidity seemed clichéd.
Comparisons with The Thick Of It are also invited, with Power Monkeys' post-Malcolm Tucker sweariness and the fly-on-the-wall style, especially the scenes in Conservative Central Office (a rare slip in topically here, as it’s long been called Conservative Campaign Headquarters). But the new show does seem watered-down in comparison – more The Thin Of It, maybe.
Many of the jokes are superficial and sometimes a bit too easy – the topicality giving only a certain latitude – but Power Monkeys also landed some great blows. Dee’s sarcasm-drenched response to being told he’s too negative was by far the best: ‘Better go and stick my head in Noel Edmonds’ magic box’ deserves to be the catchphrase of the week.
Got to love, too: ‘The Tory party has always been a broad church.’ ‘The place where they murder each other?’ or the suggestion that ‘no joke that can survive’ an Ian Duncan Smith delivery, even if calling the Work and Pensions Secretary ‘an egg with a face’ seemed cheaper.
Still, it’s the sort of show you might turn to, just to see how they handle the big news stories of the week. Let’s hope the referendum campaign livens up in the next two weeks to give the team some juicy incidents to sink their satirical teeth into.
Review date: 9 Jun 2016
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett