Fleabag

fleabag

/ˈfliːˌbæɡ/

noun (slang)

1.

(Brit) a dirty or unkempt person

Last year the BBC premiered Peter Kay’s new sitcom on its iPlayer service; the decision to distribute this way was an unqualified success with 2.8 million tuning in. The word of mouth around the show meant that when it was eventually aired on BBC One there was a real desire for viewers to see what all the fuss was about. In adopting a progressive and conventional model to suit younger and older viewers the show was a huge ratings hit. The strategy to upload a programme onto its iPlayer service was probably done with the closure of BBC3 in mind. With economic cuts hitting the corporation, the BBC had little option but to downsize the channel and repackage it online. Critics of the cuts argued this move would affect viewing figures; that people wanted convenience; they didn’t want to go looking for content – the success of Car Share disproved this: if something is marketed properly, then people will find it.

Nostalgist turned progressive: Peter Kay on iPlayer.

The BBC then have done a great job in promoting its iPlayer service, but I maintain they need to do more when it comes to advertising lesser known artists. It is easier to take a horse to water and make it drink Peter Kay, however it is more challenging to take the aforesaid to water and ask if it fancies something else for a change. This is why viewers may have missed the gleefully stupid Murder in Successville and the brilliantly brazen Fleabag. Although these sitcoms are surviving off critical acclaim and social media noise, wouldn’t it be nice for those who are less tech-savvy to be made aware of them through more traditional methods, e.g. trailers, voice-over, five minute previews? 

So to try and reach the luddites and have them embrace Fleabag, a new online show I love, I’ve decided to write a blog telling them why it’s great – what an inspired idea!

Fleabag is the brainchild of Phoebe Waller-Bridge, better known for playing the journalist Abby in ITV detective drama, Broadchurch. The idea, a young woman struggling- and failing- to hold onto her feminist credentials in a sexualised society, has gestated from a one-woman Edinburgh play to the sitcom it is today. Given the acclaim the play garlanded on its run (Fringe First Award for Best New Play and an Olivier nomination too), it comes as no surprise Waller-Bridge was commissioned to extend the exercise for TV.

The one-woman show.

This transference of a play to television is never easy: many successful stage shows lose their impact when they’re taken from the boards to the box. Gone are the days when people would watch Play for Today, a limited location drama where the story was the thing; now, people require the stimulation of camera work, non-diegetic sound and quick cuts. Realising this, Waller-Bridge has meshed the best parts of the two mediums to create something that has the verisimilitude of theatre with the tricks of TV.

The first episode is the funniest of the four so far. It opens with a sexual encounter that ends in the pay off, “Do I have a big arsehole?” Yes, this is a comedy that will separate the rude from the prude. Whilst most British people keep sex locked away in a bedroom, Fleabag punches through the fourth wall and dares us to look at it. Unlike the old movies when sex was a cigarette after the act, here we watch it whilst the participant commentates. This isn’t entirely unique- Peep Show did this before- but having it come from a female voice feels groundbreaking. In sitcom-land female characters are usually comic stooges and foils, the rational centre in an off-kilter universe; here, we see women can be as cruel, foul-mouthed and funny as their brethren.

Tearing down the fourth wall: Zach Powers would be proud.

Fleabag’s (we never find out her real name) humour is in fact her saving grace. She isn’t easy to like. For example, the boyfriend that dotes on her is used only to fulfil her financial and sexual needs. In one significant scene, the two lie in bed, playing the ostensible happy couple, all the while Fleabag is busy masturbating to the news (Barack Obama delivering a speech on radicalisation: it’s the former that does it for her, I think). Her boyfriend's response of, “I'm going. Don’t turn up to my house in your underwear. It won’t work this time,” is met by a smug, “It will” to camera. Fleabag doesn’t seem able to make emotional connections in a world that promotes the physical: her relationship with her sister is strained, so too the one with her father. And in an interesting move, she appears to objectify men: her proclivity for porn means she sees them as cock and balls and no more. It isn’t until later on in the series that you begin to understand why Fleabag’s systems of beliefs are so messy and contradictory.

The happy couple.

Despite the explicit content of the show, there are wholesome laughs too. Fleabag runs a trendy coffee shop; it being London pointed digs are made at gentrification and fad diets. In a bid to keep her business afloat, Fleabag often tells her customers she has no change; instead of arguing that £20 is too much for a cheese sandwich they file their complaint with London and let our heroine off scot-free. It can be silly and satirical as well as salacious and sexual.

Fleabag is a great show. Within the first 5 minutes you'll know if you feel the same. Just don’t watch with grandma.

Fleabag is available on the BBC iPlayer