Lunch Monkeys

BBC3 must sometimes feel very strange to its target audience – reflecting back a gallery of skunk-addled obese teenage single-mums not far removed from the nightmares of a Daily Mail reader. There’s no doubting the fruits of its comedy department however, and the likes of Man Stroke Woman, Monkey Dust, The Mighty Boosh, Gavin and Stacey and Being Human are shows that any averagely well-adjusted 16-34-year-old might actually enjoy. The sparky new student sitcom Off the Hook looks set to join that list. But Lunch Monkeys? Sadly, nah.

David Isaac's sitcom, piloted last year as Admin, is the sort of The Office clone that probably shouldn’t have survived beyond the test tube, and not much has changed since 2008 except its title. For while the administrative department of the show’s no-win, no-fee legal firm may exist spiritually in the same basement as The IT Crowd – in terms of comedic artistry it’s in a completely different office block (the prefab variety, on this evidence, and really only fit for demolition).

The young cast are not to blame, forced as they are to inhabit stereotypes – the thicko, the virgin, the weirdo, the new girl, the over-sexed office administrator, etc.  The only hope for Lunch Monkeys is if the actors should superimpose their own lively personalities on their one-dimensional characters and then, should he be granted a second series, Isaac has the wit then to write them as presented back to him.

That still might be too big an ask for Abdullah Afzal, who is lumbered with the ludicrously stupid Asif, and, to a lesser degree, for ex-Coronation Street actor Chris Hannon as Darrel, the office nerd who talks to the shredding machine and asks new girl Shelley “do you like photocopying?” (actually one of the defter lines in last night’s opener).  Jessica Hall’s pregnant and not-so-dumb blonde Tania, has potential, as does Steve John Shepherd’s priapic  public school solicitor Charlie, although this unbridled comic creation seemed to have stepped in from an altogether different sitcom.

Nigel Havers, as the law firm’s senior partner Mike, is the star name here – and this casting of an established male thespian as a sort of legitimising father-figure seems to be becoming something of a trope in otherwise brashly unashamed "yoof" comedies and dramas. Tony Head in Buffy arguably started it all, since when we’ve had Jonathan Pryce in another (to guess at the eventual fate of Lunch Monkeys) failed BBC3 comedy, Clone, and Charles Dance in ITV2’s upcoming teen soap-cum-thriller Trinity. Anyway, Mike was a pretty thankless straight-man role for Havers – stuck literally and metaphorically behind a desk.

Ultimately, the young cast apart, the freshest aspects of Lunch Monkeys were the graphics and the jaunty incidental music – not altogether a promising state of affairs. But those involved shouldn’t be too downhearted – after all Two Pints of Lager and a Packet of Crisps has managed to last for seven (soon to be eight) series.