Review: David Brent and Foregone Conclusion

The inception of Gervais’ latest comedic undertaking isn’t hard to envisage. He’s sat in the office one afternoon. Steve’s there too gawping inanely, and maybe Karl as well, unless he’s just been sent off to get the coffee. Things are a little dull these days. He needs a new project because comedy about has-been midgets and bald men travelling the globe just doesn’t seem to bring in the laughs like it used to. God the old days were good. The BAFTAs used to just stroll through the door.

So it occurs to him: it worked once, why not try it again? With The Office he was at the top of his game. And so, for the first time in ten years, David Brent is back. But not how you remember him. Long gone are those days at Wernham-Hogg. In the intervening years, Brent has managed to not only secure himself a career in the music business, but also lose about two stone in weight along the way.

Following a series of Youtube videos in which Brent offers viewers tuition in guitar playing, he is now playing to sell-out audiences across the country, tickets for the Bloomsbury gig allegedly having sold out within 30 seconds. Not bad for a character who hasn’t been seen in a decade.

But doesn’t it all seem to smack of vain self-indulgence on Gervais’ part? Just like his fictional counterpart, Brent, he too seems desperately intent on showing the world just how multi-talented he is.  Let’s not forget though, that this isn’t Gervais’ first shot at playing the rock star. This is:

Amazingly this actually did rather well, albeit in the Philippines.

But let’s get over ourselves. Who cares if he’s conceited tosser, with a history of crappy New Wave synth-pop. The show is good. Though the lyrics to each song of his 45 minute set are amusing, if not somewhat garbled on occasion, what really got the crowd tittering is the way he moved, in a way only David Brent can. The grins, the leering giggles,  the awkward clothe tugging, the bottom-lip biting, the double pistol point – it was all there.

Watching him dance takes you back to those excruciating moments at Christmas parties where you turn around to spot your dad, pissed out of his mind, playing the air-drums while perversely gyrating his hips to the rhythm of Wizzard’s ‘I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day’.

Though perhaps lacking the subtlety of The Office – his character sometimes coming across as a little too forced – the show certainly isn’t a flop. And even for those utterly lacking in a sense of humour, you might still find solace in the music itself, because it’s actually surprising catchy too. And with talk of a Wembley Arena gig on the horizon, maybe Gervais will finally achieve that musical stardom he craved for back in the 80’s – maybe.