Whimsy and washing-machines: Brian and Charles

The rolling hills of the Welsh countryside; a robot with a washing machine for a tummy; and, perhaps most importantly, hula skirts. What do all of these things have in common? Well, as you might have guessed from the title of this review, they are all intrinsic elements of the new Jim Archer film Brian and Charles; a work that perfectly balances whimsical storylines, quirky direct-to-camera comedy (think What We Do In The Shadows), and serves as the perfect antidote to the chaos and uncertainty of our present times.

Here is a film that is unabashedly optimistic about life. The viewer is taken on a journey with the eponymous Brian (David Earl), an eccentric but lovable inventor who inexplicably stumbles across artificial intelligence in his “inventions pantry” (or, as he more accurately puts it, “cow-shed”). His new companion, Charles, fetches a rather strange figure – what with his one-eyed mannequin head, spindly arms and, perhaps most notably, giant, boxy, and suspiciously washing-machine-esque torso. Nevertheless, I cannot think of a more pleasant and enjoyable pair of companions upon which to embark on a 90-minute ode to the wondrousness and mysteriousness of the world at-large. Charles grows up before the audience’s very eyes; even developing a rebellious streak in which he locks himself away in the attic blasting heavy metal, whilst insisting to go on holiday to “Hola-loop-loo”. The various escapades of the titular pair not only serve as a humorous montage sequence, but also reinvigorate your sense of hopefulness and joy; even if we only see a sliver of their lives through the beautiful backdrop of village-life.

Much of the film’s comedy stems from Charles, and his clunky, awkward movements. As he is ostensibly a man in a suit, his movements still have a recognisably human charm to them; as much as Brian sees Charles as his new humanised companion in his lonely cottage, the audience too sees the humanity and magic to Charles’ otherwise more robotic movements. Where some films might fall into the uncanny valley by attempting to combine such elements, Brian and Charles deftly weaves them together into the otherwise-comedic figure of Charles Petrescu. Indeed, even the clothing worn by Charles is used as a further opportunity to illicit laughs from the audience; I both wanted to laugh and cry when the film hard-cut to a shot of Charles sat on the end of his bed dressed head-to-foot in matching pyjamas, complete with a sleeping cap on top of his slightly-scuffed head. The film always remains aware of every opportunity for physical comedy and makes sure to never miss a single beat.

Indeed, Charles’ comedy would not be complete without the excellent characterisation of Brian, who, alongside his relationship with his robotic companion, also forms a connection to Hazel (Louise Brealey). Though the film’s premise put it into dangerous waters of being ‘overly-quirky’ to the point of being annoying (some of Wes Anderson’s more recent live-action films come to mind), director Jim Archer and his cast never fall into that territory by keeping everything fun, light, and, above all else, based in some semblance of reality. Originally based on a short-film, this feature length adaptation of Brian and Charles injects a sense of conflict and peril into proceedings through the menacing figure of Eddie (Jamie Michie), the local-village bully. However, things never veer too far from the well-trodden whimsical path; after the film finished, I most certainly still had a spring in my step.

Indeed, something that I have not seen praised enough in reviews of Brian and Charles is the excellent music, composed by Daniel Pemberton. There is a strong inflection of the beautiful, wandering Minecraft soundtrack by C418 throughout, and every shot of sheep peaceful in a field, or the everyday happenings of village life, is punctuated by a brief musical interlude of theremin-esque synth vibrations. The soundtrack of Brian and Charles is almost a character in its own right; always surrounding the film with a sense of warmth and wholesomeness that adds to the wonderfully optimistic plot. However, this is not to say that it is ever overbearing, or makes itself the centre of attention; instead, it beautifully compliments the film, and works in tandem with the moments of direct comedy to still surround the audience in a wholesome and life-affirming warmth. To quote Peep Show - this film is best described as a “warm hug in a mug”. In these current times of turbulent politics and social unrest, perhaps what we all need is to spend an hour and a half in the company of a Welsh inventor and a robot who dreams of travelling the world.