So wrong that it is right in Fawlty plan
WHEN I first heard they were planning to reboot Fawlty Towers, I had a Basil-like reaction to the news. I wanted to find those responsible and give them a “damned good thrashing”.
Because Fawlty Towers is perfection and shouldn’t be touched.
The British show ran only for two series in the 1970s, but now that we’ve endured mostly rubbish sitcoms ever since, we realise just how brilliant it was.
With his mix of physical comedy, wit, desperation and anger, John Cleese remains one of the funniest humans to ever live. Fawlty Towers was his Mona Lisa.
So the thought of a Diet-Cokegluten-free remake was just not on.
But then I found out Cleese himself was behind the idea, and he plans to write and star in the show with his daughter.
That’s different. The reboot could have a chance. As long as Basil is allowed to be Basil.
Because it was only a couple of years ago that the BBC made a giant stuff-up by cancelling an episode from their streaming service.
They said the story with the Germans contained “racial slurs”. And they were right. It did. That’s because Basil Fawlty is racist. That’s the genius of Cleese.
Long before there was talk about political correctness, he was giving us valuable lessons. And not just things like: don’t put rat poison on veal, remember your wedding anniversary and never stand under a newly hung moose head.
He was showing us that being a sexist, xenophobic snob like Basil Fawlty was an appalling and unbearable existence.
And Cleese made it so damn funny that we didn’t notice we were being taught something.
There’s one brilliant scene where Fawlty is visiting wife Sybil in hospital, and he’s greeted by a black man. Basil recoils as though he needs to defend himself from an attack, until he realises the man is a doctor. But he’s still a black doctor, so he gives him a cautious handshake. It’s sad and hilarious, and it’s not the doctor we’re laughing at or pitying, it’s Basil.
So bring on the reboot. But only if we get the full Basil.
I want him shaking his fist at Chinese “weather” balloons, praising Trump and wishing he’d build a wall around Torquay to keep out the “riffraff”, refusing vaccinations and lamenting Prince Harry’s American wife with her fresh orange juice and Waldorf salads.
This world is dying to be made fun of, and Cleese is the man to do it. And, by all means, mention the war.