Over at the Guardian, John Patterson muses about the trend of American humor transplanting to England (citing recent examples like Garfield 2 and even Match Point), and failing. This is of particular interest to me these days, as I prep for an upcoming trip to England myself (but I won’t be bringing any comedy). Here’s what Patterson has to say in his full piece:
Is America outsourcing its naff comedies to us in shame, just like they import our most noted thesps to play their villains? Is Britain the Airstrip One of American kiddie comedy-colonialism, offering cheap, obedient actors and directors who know which side their bread’s buttered on, who laugh inwardly at the naive Yanks on set and then outwardly when the cheque arrives?
Don’t get me wrong. It would be nice if some of America’s great film-makers came to Britain, even if just to escape the godawful belligerence and jingoism that hangs in the air of their homeland. One of them might like it well enough to settle and become – who knows? – another Joseph Losey, Cy Endfield or Dick Lester.