FriendsFest

Friends was the first sitcom that I ever got into. Up until the age of 12 I just watched what my parents watched: Dad’s Army, Only Fools and Horses and One Foot in The Grave. Classic comedies, but comedies that belonged to another time, another generation. Then, I got talking to my friend JP in an RE lesson and he recommended I give Friends a go. At this point it was on Channel 4 on a Sunday afternoon; I still remember the first episode I watched, The One After The Superbowl. Instantly I knew it was the comedy for me. 

Since I was teetering on adolescence the maturity of the material really appealed to me: the jokes about love and sex weren’t the stuff of Mrs Slocombe innuendo, laughing at rude words like a ten-year-old with a dictionary; instead they were sharp and whip-smart, the person I wanted to be. For a lad who attended a Catholic High School, the show was truly educational. I learnt more about sex through watching Friends than I ever did from my sex ed. class. (Sex education in a Catholic School is as follows: a husband and a wife want a baby, they therefore reluctantly engage in intercourse to beget said miracle. Enjoyment is off the menu. If you have a problem with that go to another restaurant, ask for the Devil, he'll happily cook you up some sin.)

The first episode I watched.

 From that first episode guest-starring Julia Roberts and Jean-Claude Van Damme, a love affair was born. Soon after I went down to my local MVC and bought the first seasons of Friends. This being the time of VHS the first season came in six separate video boxes. Ah, do you remember when the past used to be different and technology wasn’t the same? Here ends my Peter Kay stand up routine. Anyway, on getting the cassettes home with the help of Arnold Schwarzenegger and a wheelbarrow I went all 21^st century on their ass, binge watching the whole lot. Mumma said, “Don’t watch all of those at once, Ryan – you’ll be sick.” I didn’t heed her advice and proceeded to gorge myself silly, requesting seconds, thirds, twenty-fourths until the restauranteur closed the kitchen and told me to go home. (A lot of food analogies in this blog: I did go on a run this morning, so maybe that’s why I’m feeling famished, thinking food).

I now keep these cassettes under my pillow to protect me from burglars.

After I caught up with the seasons of Friends, I watched the new episodes when they came out on Channel 4 just like everybody else. I remember sitting with my family watching The One with Ross’s Wedding Part 2 and being left open mouthed by the denouement. At that time it was perfect programming, straddling the divide between comedy and drama quite beautifully. You really cared about all the characters, desperately wanting them to succeed and find happiness. In school the next day everyone was talking about Ross’s Freudian Slip (unaware of the pre-eminent psychiatrist, we didn’t call it this at the time. We probably called it a ‘fuck up.”) Are these bracketed digressions getting annoying yet? As Holden Caufield says in The Catcher in the Rye, 

The trouble with me is, I like it when somebody digresses. It's more interesting and all. … Oh, sure! I like somebody to stick to the point and all. But I don't like them to stick too much to the point. I don't know. I guess I don't like it when somebody sticks to the point all the time. 

I guess what I’m saying is Friends was my generation's programme; it seemed like everyone watched it and everyone had a character they could relate to. I was Chandler, a man who only listened to conversations just so he could have the sarcastic last word. People often put my quietness down to attentiveness, really I’m just lying in wait ready to snipe you down.

Which one were you?

On the way home today The Girl warned me against all this. I said to her that I wanted to write the blog quite quickly as I had things to do tonight. She said, “Just talk about FriendsFest from the start. Don’t do your usual thing of waffling for a few pages before you get on to the actual thing you want to talk about, then realise you haven’t got anytime to talk about it.” Well, honey you know me to well. But at 31 it appears this man ain’t for turning.

Today, The Girl and I went to FriendsFest as part of her anniversary present. She is a Friends superfan who knows a lot more than me about the show. Before we moved in together she had a TV in her room, which was permanently set to E4. Many a night did she fall asleep to the show – the sparkling dialogue a lullaby mobile by her bed. It was therefore my pleasure to buy her a ticket to see her favourite show re-imagined in our own backyard.

Arriving at Knebworth House we were stunned to see the scale of the operation. We thought the organisers were dealing in hyperbole when they appended ‘Fest’  to the name, but it really was a mini-festival. On going on to the site we were presented with the taxicab that Phoebe drove in the series. To the right of us was a huge stage that was a highlight reel of great Friends moments. To the left of us stood Central Perk replete with fixtures and fittings. All around us were food outlets that paid homage to Joey Tribbiani’s insatiability. The whole thing looked great.

The main stage.

First, The Girl and I went to Central Perk for some picture opportunities. Unfortunately, the café wasn’t a fully functioning one, which meant our stay was limited to smash and grab IPhone snaps – the staff are on hand to do this for you, meaning there is no need for the dystopian selfie-stick or the unBritish task of asking a stranger for help. Playing in Central Perk was a Phoebe Buffay tribute act, Crystal Clear, who entertained us whilst we waited.

Open mic night was in session too.

Then, we moved on to The Diner. Friends fans will remember a hard-up Monica waitressing in the themed 50’s restaurant in series 2. Just as we were tucking into our food the opening bars to YMCA blared out, precipitating the waiting staff to burst into song and dance a la Monica in The One with all the Bullies. It wasn’t long before the staff were tearing through the crowd and getting people to join in with the camp classic. By the end a conga line even formed snaking the site, much to everyone’s amusement.

The diner staff.

Next, we had a look in at a silent disco. Both of us assumed this would just be a place to shake off the rain by throwing some shapes; we didn’t think it would be Friends related. After collecting our headphones we were instructed through the choreographed dance routine that Monica and Ross do in The One with the Routine. It wasn’t long before our dance coaches saw my “10 from Len” dancing and recruited me to judge the other dancers. Free from the restraints of the working week I was in a good mood, which meant I celebrated all performances regardless of ability. When you’re as a good dancer as I am, it’s unfair to have unreasonable expectations of other people. Not everyone was born with Sri Lankan rhythm so it isn't fair to criticise.

I went out as a two left feet dancer and came out as a professional judge.

Following this, the pair of us went to Chandler and Joey’s apartment for some La-Z-Boy chair action. Also, a gargantuan game of foosball ensued, eventually concluding in a 10-6 victory to me. Having twirled our fingers to breaking point, we were in need of liquid refreshment. The Girl bought me a ‘Pivot’ cocktail, which appeared to have enough rum to sink a pirate ship. She opted for a ‘Bing-a-ling’ that induced in her a Bill Murray back catalogue of sarcasm. Over the years I’ve grown less sarcastic, The Girl on the other hand has taken over Chandler’s mantle.

At 2.50 we were booked into see Monica and Rachel’s apartment. This is the only thing that involved queuing, and even then it was only 15 minutes. All the time you’re waiting there are quizzes and games going on on the main stage, meaning you’re never bored. We then reenacted the title sequence with accompanying umbrellas before being moved through the apartment where we were photoed in the living room, kitchen and front door.

The apartment.

Overall, it was a lovely experience befitting of a programme that touched millions. Most of the people that attended were our age, the generation that the show meant so much to. However, there were also younger fans; in fact one of the winners of the main stage quiz was a 15-year-old girl. It appears that with Comedy Central recycling the shows a new generation of fans is enjoying the sitcom that spawned a haircut. I haven’t seen an episode of Friends for years, but you know what? I’m going to go back and watch some old ones again. I bet you they withstand the test of time.

* The bet is based on Season 1-8. I’m not even sure Season 9-10 withstood the test of their own time.

FriendsFest is now sold out. Capitalism being as it is, it will probably be back.