Jam

Jam has been described as being the televisual version of the state of mind you're in when you've been awake for 3 days or sedated on strange mind-drugs. I'd go along with that. It also happens to be the best thing seen on TV for a long, long time. Visually, it is simply stunning. One sketch will be shot a grainy security camera, the next on high quality widescreen film, one might be in negative, while another would use stop-motion photography. The content is incredibly dark, in Chris Morris' bizarre other world where every seems right on the outside, but not far beneath the surface lurks something altogether wrong and loony. A demented mother asks a plumber to fix her dead baby, a man commits suicide by jumping off a first floor window 40 times in case he'd change his mind. Morris' script and the superb cast's acting makes you laugh all the way through, and that's the really scary bit.

With Channel 4 bleak satire/comedy Jam, Chris Morris welds the Beckett-nihilism with the ability to capture in visuals a dreamlike quality of Bunuel or Lynch. Oh, and Burroughs' cut-up lyricism. The acting is never less than well-judged and occasionally downright superb, with David Cann creating many very engaging characterisations- his clinically sedate and perverted Doctor is so well done. Cann features in a sublime scene where a happy, middle-aged man wishes to be literally buried in his prime. The image of him jazzing in joy to Jackie Wilson's "The Sweetest Thing" while sitting in his coffin is priceless.

The "Mr Lizard" and "40-times from the first floor" sketches are perhaps my other two favourites. Morris himself makes an appearance at the start of each episode in the deranged intros- intoning dark tone poems over disturbed, frenzied visuals- and makes three effective appearances in sketches. Episode 4's intro was particularly brilliant. The music is brilliantly selected, with excellent use of Brian Eno's "Apollo" record, Beta Band and a striking use of Minnie Riperton's "Loving You" in the opening episode. The satire of Jam is perhaps an attempt to cope with painful subject matter by treating them as absurd. The emphasis on abortion and children is quite large. In a sense, Morris's comedy is a continuation of the great British absurdist tradition of Milligan, Sellers, Peter Cook (check out Morris' hilarious work with him from 1994, "Why Bother?") and Monty Python, only more dangerous and bleak. Jam's the sort of programme that can inspire endless interpretations, and even if you don't like it, it is undoubtedly thought-provoking about many aspects of life. It's a rare slice of intelligent TV in an age of largely formulaic, bland television. Not as immediate, hilarious as "The Day Today" or "BrassEye", but more entrancing. Morris's rare gift for language use is again on display, especially in the intros; he's light years ahead of the competition in the comedy field and also, perhaps tellingly, the "serious high-brow TV" category. It's loneliness in the modern world, dreams of the ill in a vacuum: welcome in Jam.

I have a unique relationship with Jam, as I'm sure many other viewers do too.

Never before Jam have I watched a comedy show which remains completely compelling even though I found that a good 70% of the sketches weren't conventionally "funny".

That's not to say the series isn't amusing: it is, frequently. A few sketches did have me laughing out loud. But more often than not it produces hushed, disquieted laughs that you almost feel ashamed for producing.

This is to the show's credit, since it deliberately possesses a uniquely weird and disturbing atmosphere. Sketches frequently take familiar situations or concepts and bury them under an insane haze that seems equal parts bad drug trip and delirious nightmare. The visuals and sound frequently distort, rendering even "simple" sketch setups creepy or unusual.

There is almost always an intelligent thought or meaning behind the bleak tone and disorientating effects. One of my favourite sketches features a well-to-do man narrating a story regarding a man's absurd suicide attempt and provides a surprisingly poignant satire of lacklustre mental health care and bystander apathy in society.

The cast is great - Mark Heap is one of my favourite actors/comics, and gives another splendid performance in his varied roles here. Morris' writing and performance is top notch, as is David Cann's and...well, pretty much everyone, really.

The intro clips also bear mention: each episode is opened with Morris performing a very dark and disjointed poetic monologue linking the (usually horrific) fates of several characters. The intros are universally fantastic and really show off the talent of Morris at his best.

The show does have disadvantages: chiefly, the sketch content sometimes goes over borders many viewers will be uncomfortable with. Indeed, sketches featuring disabled people and child abuse/death are quite common, and are universally shocking.

However, if you think you can stomach taboo humour and have a mind open to such an unusual programme, I highly recommend it. It's likely that in between the guilty laughs and shocked silences, you'll find you take away an appreciation for the atmosphere and some of the questions the pitch black humour poses.

Obscene, offensive, disturbing, nihilistic, crude - rarely can be these words said together while describing a comedy series. 'Jam' is one beautiful gem among the whole ocean of fart jokes and mildly humorous and warm sitcoms. I don't say that there aren't any 'fart jokes' is 'Jam', there are some, but they are presente in such a disturbing way in very inappropriate situations. Mentioning inappropriate situations, then the whole show is built up on very nasty and surreal situations. All the skits are sent by very moody and ambient electronic music that adds more to the unnerving feel, and even some horror film like atmoshpere.

Herewriter simply doesn't have much ability to describe 'Jam', but perhaps the easiest way would be - if Monty Python woul have been directed by David Lynch. Chris Morris is genius!

Brilliant, offencive, innovative, hilarious. Just four of the words I would use to describe a programme more surreal than Monty Python and The Mighty Boosh combined. Jam goes beyond the conventional thinking outside the box; it ambitiously and successfully thinks outside the storage depot. You'll find yourself whirling in a pool of confusion, not knowing whether to laugh or maintain the uncomfortable silence that the intro produces. The music score creates a ambiance that either reflects the scene perfectly, or creates a relaxing contrast to an awkward situation. If you're offended easily by taboo topics, then Jam isn't for you. If, however, your evening meal comprises of going to an Indian restaurant and attacking your friend because he broke the popodoms, then welcome in Jam.