BLACKADDER: British Comedy at its Absolute Peak

Comedy from the United Kingdom is characterized by a rather specific sense of humor that one must appreciate. But if one does, there are many titles to choose from. For example, ’Allo ’Allo, Fawlty Towers, Monty Python’s Flying Circus, Whatever Happened to the Likely Lads?, A Bit of Fry & Laurie, Mr. Bean, Little Britain, The Young Ones, Black Books, The IT Crowd, The Office, Miranda, The Thick of It, Peep Show, The Mighty Boosh… Some of these were broadcast relatively recently, some are decades old, and some are familiar to anyone even somewhat acquainted with British culture. One well-known comedy is missing from that list: Blackadder.

Rowan Atkinson and Richard Curtis collaborated on the comedy Not The Nine O’Clock News, and it was then that the idea for Blackadder occurred to them. In 1982 they filmed a pilot—though it was never broadcast (a fragment can be seen in the documentary Blackadder Rides Again)—and already a year later the first series appeared. Its writers were Atkinson and Curtis. They were especially keen to avoid comparisons with Fawlty Towers, which had concluded a few years earlier. Ultimately, over the course of sixteen years (1983–1999), four seasons and three special episodes were produced (not counting individual short, two- or three-minute television appearances). The action of each series takes place in a different historical era, and the episodes are “standalone”—they can be watched out of order.

The first series, The Black Adder, is set in the Middle Ages. The central character is Blackadder (Rowan Atkinson), accompanied by Baldrick (Tony Robinson) and Lord Percy Percy (Tim McInnerny). Together they scheme so that Blackadder might seize the throne (King Richard IV is played by Brian Blessed). Here, Blackadder’s character resembles more Mr. Bean (whom Atkinson would not portray until eight years later, in 1990).

The creators later said that at that time they were still testing how far Atkinson’s abilities went and what suited him best, so Blackadder behaved in different ways. He was alternately aggressive and submissive, stupid and cunning, cowardly and brave. Among other things, this lack of balance in the character made the series feel uneven, which in turn affected its viewership. Additionally, the production was quite expensive, because they filmed on location (at Alnwick Castle, where, for example, the Harry Potter films were later shot) and hired many actors. Thus, the then-boss of the BBC, John Howard Davies, decided to cancel the series. However, the creators—rather than giving up—sat down and devised a new, reduced budget that earned them a second chance.

Paradoxically, the series benefited greatly from the budget reduction. They cut the number of actors to an absolute minimum. They filmed in the studio and made the locations more abstract, more intimate, and they remained so to the end. Ben Elton—already known from the then-popular, and now cult, comedy The Young Ones—replaced Atkinson as the episode writer, and this change also proved to be a masterstroke. Similarly excellent was casting Miranda Richardson as Queen Elizabeth I (the Blackadder II action takes place in the sixteenth century). Producer John Lloyd recalled that around forty actresses auditioned, but none of them appealed to him. He was about to give up when Miranda Richardson entered and amazed him with her way of delivering the queen’s lines—fluidly shifting between squeaks, shouts, sadness, boredom, and amusement (often all in one sentence)—and she was immediately hired. Although she appeared regularly only in the second series (she performed in single episodes of the third and fourth series), as the capricious, mercurial, and querulous Elizabeth I, she quickly won the audience’s affection.

Popularity meant that they readily obtained approval to produce another season, Blackadder the Third. In the third series, set at the turn of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, Hugh Laurie joined the regular cast, playing the dim-witted Prince George. Robbie Coltrane also appeared as a guest star, portraying Samuel Johnson, author of the first English dictionary. They referred more frequently than before to historical figures and events; however, this did not make the series hermetic. Additionally, today at least half of the jokes would be deemed politically incorrect and would likely provoke outrage. Blackadder routinely mocked, for example, other nations—especially the French—because to whom else might the British direct their jibes? In one scene Blackadder asks for toast, but the shopkeeper, Mrs. Miggins, responds, We no longer serve toast. My French customers consider it beneath them, to which Blackadder retorts acidly, A people who eat snails and would bed a kitchen sink if it wore a nightgown will not lecture us on decorum.

The final series, Blackadder Goes Forth, is more serious than the previous three. Its action takes place—as is easily guessed—during World War I, although the writers took care not to trivialize the soldiers’ sacrifices or offend the memory of the fallen. They constructed their jokes cautiously, poking fun more at the conditions in the trenches or the absurd plans of commanders to gain advantage over the Germans (If we attack where their defenses are strongest, they will think our intelligence is incompetent. They will feel false security, and in a week we will strike where their lines are weakest). The last episode serves as a kind of tribute to the victims—its ending (which of course I will not reveal) is decidedly sad and poignant, especially for a comedy. It is also worth noting that in this season Stephen Fry officially joined the cast (he had previously appeared as a guest in one episode of the third series), playing General Melchett.

As the seasons progressed, Blackadder became increasingly clever and cunning but ever more poorly situated—beginning as a prince and ending as a military captain. He is a cynical, malicious opportunist who torments his servant Baldrick and seeks every chance to make money with the least effort. He must continually endure the whims of a benighted aristocrat (initially Lord Percy Percy, later Prince/Colonel George). Often he becomes entangled in difficult predicaments from which he must emerge with dignity. Baldrick tries to help him, inventing cunning plans.

In 1999, for the new millennium, they broadcast a special episode, Blackadder: Back & Forth, in which most familiar characters appeared. Colin Firth also made a guest appearance as Shakespeare. However, the script was not among the best, nor did the actors seem particularly overjoyed to return to their old roles. The jokes were theoretically constructed as before, and theoretically everything was in place, but something was missing, and in practice the whole affair felt awkward. This impression was compounded by the fact that it was the only episode filmed without background laughter—and that absence was painfully felt while watching.

Rowan Atkinson became famous for his role as Mr. Bean—an innocent, childish man whose best friend is a brown teddy bear. Watching Blackadder, one realizes that Atkinson’s comedic talents go beyond that. It turns out that although nature endowed him with an exceptionally expressive face, surprisingly he can also restrain it and deliver a long, funny monologue, his lip never curling into a smile. The series is also worth recommending to Hugh Laurie fans—his role here is the exact opposite of Dr. House. Laurie excels as a dim aristocrat who cannot manage to put on his trousers by himself and is so gullible that one can easily convince him that playing cards means losing all one’s money as quickly as possible.

Before the fourth season aired, two special episodes were released—Blackadder: The Cavalier Years and Blackadder’s Christmas Carol—but neither was particularly amusing. Blackadder’s efforts to save King Charles I (played by Stephen Fry) from Oliver Cromwell, nor Ebenezer Blackadder—a peculiar, because kindly and helpful Othello in one—made a memorable impression.

For many years, Blackadder has been regarded as one of the greatest achievements of British comedy. Indeed, all the actors—even those appearing as guests—became recognizable: Rowan Atkinson, Hugh Laurie, Stephen Fry, Miranda Richardson, Robbie Coltrane. Tim McInnerny, Tony Robinson, and the late Rik Mayall are less well known, but they too could not complain of lack of work. As often happens in such situations, rumors of another season have circulated for some time. The entire cast performs excellently and occasionally takes other roles, but they say they would gladly return to their parts (except for McInnerny). I suspect that for the British reviving old productions may work better than for the Americans; nevertheless, I hope this is just rumor. Blackadder is already a classic—it does not need to earn another label as yet another series trying to cash in on its popularity.