A trip down a familiar lane
EARLY IN The Trip to Greece, Rob Brydon fittingly quotes Aristotle on the virtues of imitation. Although the birthplace of classical Western narratives might be a perfect setting for such quotes, it also serves to shield this film against critical flak for doing just that; imitating itself.
The critics have a point; The Trip to Greece is fairly much identical to the previous three outings (set in England, Italy, and Spain). But for good reason. The formula works.
A travelogue of sorts, Rob Brydon and Steve Coogan (who play fictionalised versions of themselves) saunter from tourist site to restaurant, back to tourist site, while comically casting out quick witticisms and well-read eloquent prose about their surroundings. It’s all rather idyllic and you do wonder at times if it is going anywhere beyond their observations.
The plot, such as it is, is fairly scant and the thinnest of the four Trip movies. But you don’t go to see a movie like this for the plot.
The self-aware Brydon and Coogan know how to laugh at themselves and tease each other about their skewed level of success, occasionally flirting with serious topics such as their own mortality. The result is an insightfully funny and sometimes thoughtprovoking look at their lives.
However, if you’ve seen any of the previous Trip films and found their impersonations and pedantic squabbling to be annoying, this movie won’t convert you.
Michael Winterbottom, who has directed all four Trip movies, injects very little directorial flavour and settles, once again, on an observational approach, letting his two muses verbally run amok with what appears to be a loose script and plenty of ad-libbing.
A surprisingly melancholic score occasionally threatens to steer the film into more serious territory and Coogan looks to be the man to do it. But no. Brydon, Coogan, and Winterbottom appear to know on what side their toast is buttered. Imitation is strangely comforting.