When exactly did Flight of the Conchords transform from being a highly recommended television show that I gave a slight chance merely out of curiosity to being a television show that I would highly recommend myself?
Was it when Bret, one of the two leads, dreamt of his roommate dressed as David Bowie in the “Ashes to Ashes” video because he was losing confidence in his physical appearance? Maybe it happened when Bret and Jemaine, said roommate, assumed their rap personas, the Rhymenoceros and Hiphopopotamus, in a vain effort to prevent themselves from being mugged. Or was it five minutes into the first episode, when their best friend Dave asked them both to leave him alone during a party because he was trying to look lonely (we all know how much the ladies dig a lonely man), and they were going to wreck that illusion by demonstrating that Dave does indeed have friends?
Whenever it was, Flight of the Conchords, a wonderfully clever show that has its hand right over the heart of humor, discovers all the acclaim it gets through word of mouth (or, in this case, word of article).
Following a novelty folk duo as they try to make it in New York City, Flight of the Conchords takes the romanticized hipster dream and inverts it in such original and thoughtful ways that it becomes difficult to watch without laughing all the while. Because the show is actually the brainchild of a real musical comedy duo, Bret McKenzie and Jemaine Clement, musical segments are seamlessly integrated into each episode. Instead of becoming tedious and annoying, this actually enhances and enriches a storyline that could have mirrored a thousand other failed attempts at parody.
From the initial “The Most Beautiful Girl in the Room” to the honest “If You’re Into It,” every song in the show takes the music of a genre that often takes itself too seriously and combines it with undeniably witty lyrics and deftly executed “music video” scenarios.
Yet all of this would have proven fruitless if not supported by a brilliant cast of characters. Bret and Jemaine play themselves, and while their quirky characters are never boring to watch, the show is often stolen by the more marginal characters. Mel, the sole, stalker fan of Flight of the Conchords, and Murray, the manager who holds band meetings at the New Zealand consulate where he works, are two brilliantly acted characters who come to mind.
Although all of the show’s characters are, in reality, nothing more than sad and pathetic, there is no malice and a great deal of benevolent sympathy infused into each episode. With a few exceptions, the moments of pitiful weakness on the part of the characters are so well-balanced with the uplifting scenes that Flight of the Conchords comes off as nothing more than natural.
If you’re a fan of humor and good television (and I know there are those of you reading this who aren’t, you miserable scrooges, you), give Flight of the Conchords ten minutes of your time. If it ends up not being your thing, well, ten minutes of laughing is hardly ten minutes wasted.
Truc Doan ’10 (tdoan@fas) is the Indy’s Hiphopopotamus.
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