Jeeves & Wooster: The Complete Series

Rare is it for one to find a comedy that deftly blends the best elements of all three 'brow aesthetics' into a humor-vehicle that is at once escapist and illuminating. *Wooster and Jeeves*, an A&E adaptation of the P.G. Wodehouse serial-novels of the same name, achieves this exceptional distinction. With its natural dialogue (culled directly from the source material), impeccable comic timing and excellent acting, along with an extremely refreshing variation on the standard development-of-conflict/culmination-of-tension sitcom-structure, *Wooster and Jeeves* towers over the dross and diminished returns of mainstream H-wood offerings, exposing the implicit poverty of ultra-recycled miscommunication-muddling, senseless slapstick, lowest-common-denominator joke-dialogue and imbecilic 'shock' theatrics. This is one for the archives.

*Wooster and Jeeves* centers around one Bertram Wooster (Hugh Laurie), an archetypical English wealth-scion of the flapper '20s (i.e. a playboy and all-around fop), and Jeeves (Stephen Fry), his sophisticated valet. Bertie has devoted his existence to simple pleasures: afternoon excursions to the local gentleman's club for drinks and nine-ball; the occasional golf-game in the countryside; learning all the newest tunes on his piano (and, distressingly, a trombone). But this peaceful existence is constantly threatened by his relatives and school-chum companions, who endeavor often-as-not to involve him in their half-witted shenanigans (often via blackmail), or seek to marry him off so as to be 'molded' into an upstanding citizen. Luckily Bertie has Jeeves, his upper-crust manservant of philosophical bent, photographic memory and astonishing reliability, to help him wriggle free from these various entanglements/entrapments: "you're a rare bird, Jeeves!" Bertie invariably exclaims upon hearing the elegant, simple solutions his valet conjures. Indeed, compared to the lassitude and loathsome irresponsibility run rampant in Bertie's circle of the privileged (...peacocks, puff-adders and/or prunes), Jeeves is a pillar and a paragon, far more cultivated in his education and moral fortitude than any of the noble-rank he so impeccably serves. This could be considered a cliché, and with good reason - but we must remember that clichés often have a strong basis in reality, and such is the case here. Wooster & co., born with the silver spoon firmly placed in mouth, have never had to struggle for anything: thus, stressful occasion is usually invented or invited, for excitement, a 'lark', a means to obtain the suffering so key in delineating character and defining pleasure, whereas Jeeve's fortitude is all self-made, stamped upon soul and sinew through years of willing trial.

But I digress. The one thing I like most about *Wooster and Jeeves,* aside from the top-notch writing, acting, set-design and dramatic construction, is the fact that it sidesteps the typical tension-build of very nearly all comedy. In the usual spate of sitcom and other 'brow-aesthetics,' a situation is introduced, complications ensue, and with an unhealthy over-reliance of miscommunication, the tension is milked and milked until 'release' - long after the outcome has been thoroughly predicted by the jaded audience. In each episode of *Wooster and Jeeves*, however, the writers have combined several of Wodehouse's short stories, therein threading events, character-arcs and complications into a sinuous storm of tension/release. Rare is it for an uncomfortable situation to wear out its premise: not only are conflicts dispatched in a speedy and sometimes surprising manner, they often mutate into different, contrasting developments...an incredibly refreshing twist. This show is *not* milked, and there is (almost) always enough material to fill a 45-minute episode.

Until, that is, the fourth season. All that makes this series extraordinary is astonishingly reputed in the disastrous return-to-America episodes, which stretch credibility well past the breaking point and simply are _not_ up to snuff with the prior three seasons. The Empire State Building climax of 'The Once and Future Ex' borders on disgusting parody; the castaway epilogue to 'Bridegroom Wanted' is humorous only in a surreal 'what were they thinking?' sort of way. Everything returns to normal (more or less) once Bertie and Jeeves reach England, though the spark of the show is discernable weakened afterward and even the return of powerhouse personality-clashes like that of Finknottle and Spode come of more like copycat comedy when compared to their predecessors.

Regardless, this box set is well worth the lucre. Five stars.