Spaced

Have I really never blogged about Spaced? Put it this way: it’s one of the top five funniest shows there has ever been on television.

The Wikipedia blurb: Spaced is a British television situation comedy written by and starring Simon Pegg and Jessica Hynes, and directed by Edgar Wright. It is noted for its rapid-fire editing, frequent pop culture references and jokes, eclectic music, and occasional displays of surrealism and non-sequitur humour. Two series of seven episodes each were broadcast in 1999 and 2001 on Channel 4, and were reaired in the fourth quarter of 2009 on Dave. Both series can currently be viewed in the United Kingdom on 4oD and in the United States on Hulu.

It’s basically what Friends would be like if Friends actually reflected the real experiences of being a house-sharer in the capital city – i.e. fewer witty, sophisticated conversations in cafes and more drunken slurring in your living room watching Star Wars after a night clubbing to indistinguishable bleeps. The constant sci-fi and comic book references just reflect the ordinary conversations you have at that age.

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Some of my favourite quotes:

[Tim is being dumped by girlfriend Sarah]
Tim: Just… give me a reason. You think I’m unemotional, don’t you? I can be emotional. Jesus, I cried like a child at the end of Terminator 2.

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Brian: What are you playing?
Tim: Tomb Raider 3.
Brian: She’s drowning.
Tim: Yeah.
Brian: Is that the point of the game?
Tim: It depends what mood you’re in really.
Brian: What sort of mood are you in then?
Tim: Well, I got a letter from my girlfriend this morning three months too late explaining why she dumped me. It was full of “you’ll always be special” and “I’ll always love you” platitudes designed to make me feel better while simultaneously appeasing her deep-seated sense of guilt for running off with a slimy little city boy named Duane and destroying my faith in everything in the world that is good and pure.
Brian: So it didn’t really work then.
Tim: No, it made me want to drown things!

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[Brian is literally wearing a painting]
Tim: You’ve got some paint on you.
Brian: It’s a literal tribute to the self-reflexivity of Rembrandt.
Tim: Did he like it?
Brian: He’s dead.
Tim: Bloody hell, that really backfired.

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Mike: Wanna go into your party?
Tim: But they were playing The Timewarp! I hate The Timewarp.
Mike: Daisy likes it.
Tim: So what? I hate it. It’s boil-in-the-bag perversion for sexually repressed accountants and first-year drama students with too many posters of Betty Blue, The Blues Brothers, Big Blue and Blue Velvet on their blue bloody walls.

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Bilbo Bagshot: I was like you once. Blond hair. Scraggly little beard. Childlike ears. Full of beans and spunk. I let my principles get in the way sometimes. I punched a bloke in the face once for saying Hawk the Slayer was rubbish.
Tim Bisley: Good for you.
Bilbo Bagshot: Yeah, thanks. But that’s not the point, Tim. The point is I was defending the fantasy genre with terminal intensity, when what I should have said is “Dad, you’re right, but let’s give Krull a try and we’ll discuss it later.”

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