Ten Favorite Moments from The Trip (2010 -2017)

I recently wrapped up a rewatch of the Trip trilogy and wanted to commemorate the occasion with a few words. What a great show. If you've never seen it, the premise is simple: Rob Brydon and Steve Coogan, playing themselves, are sent by the Observer magazine on a restaurant tour in the north of England (The Trip, 2010), Italy (The Trip to Italy, 2014), and Spain (The Trip to Spain, 2017.) I say playing themselves, but highly stylized versions of themselves, molded to great purpose in what has the surface appearance of an improvisational narrative but is in actuality a wonderful meditation on - broad strokes alert - modern times, with all the angst, longing, and pop culture effluvium that come with it.


Here are 10 favorite moments. 

10.
Michael Caine 

aka "You Were Only Supposed to Blow the Bloody Doors Off!"

 

Chances are you've seen this link somewhere in your internet travels. It's probably the most famous scene from any of the series. And deservedly so. I only include it so low, here, because I OD'd on it back in 2010. It was/is so perfect. I love Rob's exasperation (in Older Michael Caine's voice) about being interrupted and Steve's broken-voice part. The Trip is loaded with great impersonations from its leads, and the genius of most of them is even if you don't know what the originals sound like (which was the case for Chicago-based me, unfamiliar with some BBC personalities) you can still recognize the quality of them based on the other's reaction.

9.

Steve Meets the ISIS Invasion

Originally this ending of s3 (with Steve's car breaking down, his dream and subsequent seeing the potential ISIS fighters on the horizon) wasn't on my list. But it really stuck with me after I finished watching. Excellent use of "Windmills of Your Mind" and a wonderfully appropriate and thoughtful end to both The Trip to Spain and the trilogy in general.

8.

"We Didn't Get On." 

aka Small Man in a Box at Vesuvius

Rob Brydon's Small Man in a Box routine annoys Steve, for reasons we'll get into momentarily. In the visit to Pompeii in The Trip to Italy, Steve is taken by one of the preserved corpses, and Rob punctures the moment by breaking into the routine. 

"The thing is he was real. This is a real man who died. I wonder if anyone cried for him. I wonder if anyone who escaped loved him and cried about him."

"We didn't get on."

(Steve, exasperated, wanders off, and Rob continues the bit with the two-thousand-year-old Pompeiian, supplying both voices.)

'It seems like he's a little oversensitive to me.'
" I agree."

'Are you knocking about with him?' 

"Yeah, we're just traveling round Italy."
'Oh, my God, it must be a nightmare for you.'
"It really is. In many ways, I envy you. You're inside the box. I mean, at least for you, it's muffled.

'Yeah, I'm just picking up the odd word, to be honest with you, but, you know, in all honestly, I'm kind of glad I died when I did and I never got the chance to meet the guy.'
"I know, I know. If I could climb in there with you, I would." "

At this point, Steve re-enters the scene to find him still doing it.

Anyway, it's been really good to talk."
'Yeah, you too, fella.'

I love that "you too, fella" bit. Anyway, the whole exchange and staging characterize Rob and Steve quite well. Immediately after this scene there's a surprisingly effective montage of scenes from Pompeii accompanied by the theme from s2, which is this lovely theme from Strauss's Four Last Songs. It's a wonderful, moody sequence, all the moreso because of the Small Man in a Box bit that preceded it.

7.

"I'm a small man in a box."

There's a wonderful scene of Steve trying to do the routine at the end of an episode in season 1. He can't quite get it, and he knows it. The vulnerability of the scene could be considered over the top or too on-the-nose, but the music - the same theme that ends each episode in s1 -  adds the vitally sad dimension to the scene. Again, these aren't the performers themselves opening their raincoats to the world (so to speak); these are actors lending their image to and bringing to life a very well-considered meditation on celebrity and all the aforementioned.

That theme is so great.

6. 

"Michael Buble."

Nothing much to this one, just the whole "Michael Boo-blay" exchange between them is wonderful. I don't know the talk show host they're referring to, but I trust it's as awesome as all the other impressions.

 5.

"Gentlemen, to bed..."

 

I guess I'll keep up with the links, though I hate making posts too link-heavy. The fickle future of You Tube availability always gives me pause. Here's the sequence, currently available here. I love it. I always crack up loudly when Rob says "Leave my sister out of it" and miss the next few lines. 

While we're here, I kept trying to screencap Coogan's watch to figure out what it was. The internet was way ahead of me here, and here's the link. A Blancpain Aqualung Grande Date. Great work, internet. 

4. 
Romantic Entanglements and Hugh Grant

The romantic travails of the two are an ongoing subplot of the series, occasionally taking over the A-plots. For each of the series, the Observer hires this Spanish photographer (Marta Barrio) to cover things, and each time she and Steve have a fling (and she leaves before he wakes up in the morning). He doesn't remember her the first time, although they met and had a fling years before. Ah, celebrity life.

The trilogy is bookended by Steve's chasing after Mischa, his American girlfriend (Margo Stilley.)

Rob, on the other hand, is seen as a doting husband and family man in series one, only to undermine that by putting the moves on Steve's assistant. 

Played by Claire Keelan.

At the end of the episodes, he phones his wife and lapses into his Hugh Grant persona, each time prompting his wife to say it doesn't do much for him. The viewer quickly learns this his prelude-to-romance voice. When it actually works in s2, he ends up marrying her (as we learn at the end of s3 when he returns home. (EDIT: See comments for mea culpa.) Actually, other viewers might have picked up on that before me. Either way, it's the intersection of these characters' professional talents with the indulgences of being famous and recognizable with their inner worlds and insecurities that informs all the above.   

3.

"You should have paid more attention to your chef..."

Like the dueling Michael Caines, Steve's superior Roger Moore impersonation brings out Rob's competitive instinct, particularly when there are ladies present. This culminates quite naturally - and somewhat uncomfortably - in the last dinner scene, where Rob simply can't let it go. As Steve prattles on about the history of Spain and the Moors - his own defense mechanism - Rob undermines him with a fictional history of Roger "Moore's" Spain. It's all very entertaining, but - like Steve's imagined meeting with the new Moor invasion at episode/series' end - it's a fitting end to their relationship for the viewer.


The best of them probably occurs in this scene from s3. 

2.

"Can I ask you a question?" 

"Yes, of course, absolutely."
"Is it true, what I read about you?" 

"And what do you read about me?" 

"That you're a bit of a cunt."
"Well, where did you read that?" 

"Well, it's in today's newspaper. Here, look."

"Well, whoever said that doesn't know me very well."
"Are you sure?"

...

And finally:

1.

"You turn your back on me, man, goddamn your eyes!"

Not a mix from all the series (there's also this one from s1, which is great, particularly Steve's early-morning cringing), but this one on the boat - where they're both a bit liquored up after their beachside lunch - is my favorite. 

One of my favorite moments in all television history, really - I just find this absolutely delightful. The kinetic energy of Rob's Hopkins impression in general is the one that possibly bests Steve, and as a result, bothers Steve immensely.

~

And there we have it. What a great show. Here are some leftover screencaps.

The Shining (Opera)

"Jack Torrance thought: Officious little prick."

 - first words of King's The Shining.

"Hi, I've got an appointment with Mr. Ullman. My name is Jack Torrance." 

- first words of Kubrick's The Shining.

"You've got to watch her. She creeps." *

- first words of King's script for The Shining miniseries.

"Did you remember the parking brake?" *

- first words of The Shining, the opera.

* More or less.

This one will be somewhat tough to discuss, as there's no CD, no DVD, and a paucity of YouTube links to the production. A shame - and a bit of a mystery. Why no official recording? Why no film of the performance? Why have no other performances opened anywhere after the initial run? No opera company anywhere in the world wants to put on The Shining? Are the rental fees too high? The run in St. Paul sold out each night. Multiply that by any opera market that knows King's work (a lot) and you'd figure there'd be mutual profit and interest. None of these things add up to me. What is the rationale for keeping this off the market? 

I'll try my best, though. First things first: this is terrific stuff. When it comes to contemporary opera, I know virtually nothing. Through supplemental reading, repeat listening, and strategic use of Robert Greenberg's How To Listen To and Understand Opera, I've learned a bit about opera over the past year, but it's been 99% traditional repertoire stuff. I had not, for example, heard of either the composer (again, Paul Moravec) or the librettist (Mark Campbell).

Above, with director Simonson and conductor Michael Christie.

A few seconds googling revealed oh hey, these guys are not just very well-known but highly accomplished, top-of-their-field personalities. Very much an honor to have these guys bring your work to the stage. It's a bit like King getting adapted by... well, Kubrick, I guess. (Except - as is mentioned in each and every press release I could find on the Shining opera - part of securing the rights to the book included making it clear that it was adapting the novel and not the movie. King's never going to let that one go. Of all the hills to die on, Kubrick's The Shining is King's Dien Bien Phu.)

Anyway, I very much look forward to checking out more of the creators' work. That also goes for the leads: Brian Mulligan as Jack Torrance and Kelly Kaduce as Wendy Torrance. 

Both carry the opera more or less on their shoulders. The real treat of the opera if you're a fan of either the novel (or the film, or even the miniseries... I guess) is seeing these characters brought to life with such intensity from the leads. Opera fits the novel well. The composer and librettist both seize upon this to great effect, which allows the leads to bring the characters - familiar to so many of us - to new life while still being recognizable. 

British critic Michael Eaton listed the three rules of effective adapation as (1) the geography can be jettisoned if the sociological ground base is preserved, (2) it is not the significance of the characters as written but the structural relationships between them that should remain fixed, and (3) thematic coherence is the essential springboard. Quibble with them if you like (myself, I think point two is too slippery-slope-y) but by his or any standard of adaptation, everyone involved here did a remarkable job of it. But special credit to Mark Campbell; I don't think it's overstating it to say of the three attempts to translate the book into another medium (one of them by King himself) he might have done the book the most justice.

(The polar opposite of this sort of understanding is something the Wall Street Journal wrote in its review: "(The opera) elevates the story from a horror to a human drama." Clearly written by someone who has never read the novel.) 

Anyway, Kalduce and Mulligan are both fantastic. The cast is rounded out (among others) by Arthur Woodley as Dick Hallorhan, David Walton as Delbert Grady, and Mark Walters as Mark Torrance. They each get time in the spotlight and knock it out of the park. I wish I could cue up particular moments from their songs, but alas. Grady in particular brings some comic menace to his scenes. And the Don Giovanni-like appearance of Mark Torrance is a highlight of the whole show.

Sorry no screencap, but here's Doc (Alejandro Vega) and Woodley's Hallorhan.

One last word on the adaption before moving on to the music itself: Jack's struggle with learning that it's his son that the Overlook is really after and that he's just being manipulated to maneuver Danny into place is fleshed out better here than in any other place. Perhaps not the novel, but that's to be expected. Of course, the novel didn't have aria, duet, and chorus to work with either. Especially with this score.

If you just listened to the music, you might be forgiven for thinking Danny (and Toby's) presence was too drastically reduced. But on the contrary, Danny is the pivotal on-stage role: it's just that as a child he can't carry the musical score so he has to be used strategically. And he is - to great effect. But visually and stage-wise, as far as how his presence ends or moves scenes along, he is the key piece on the chessboard, just as in the novel.

Okay, so let's get to the music. It was described as "a haunting score by Paul Moravec, sparing in its use of melody in its quest for mounting tension and suspense" by Alan Kopischke for USA Today. And it is certainly that. This is operatic score in the constant-musical-momentum mode, and not quite the Verdi or Wagner mode, with orchestral flourishes that call attention to themselves and/or standalone songs you might be whistling on your way out of the opera house.

After 3 listens - and boy, it'd be nice to crank the CD or blu-ray from their respective delivery mechanisms but hey! - I think my initial impression (this is great music) stands. Is considerably deepened, in fact. Listen to this. You can see some of the production at that link, too. Once you get a sense of the score, listen to this rehearsal with only piano.

The voices blend better with the orchestra, but that's why it's an opera. I pick out a lot more about what the music is doing hearing it only on piano. Very modern sense of harmony (modern as in Stravinsky/Schoenberg) but mainly: just spooky, disorienting music. It's such an interesting way of enveloping the Overlook and this family drama. Lush but sinister, and wonderful - regal when it has to be, a cauldron of tension otherwise. 

I loved every number where the Overlook ghosts appear, and Jack and Wendy have some nice duets. Robert Greenberg has described the opera composer as an architect who gathers his materials based on the direction he's given from the subject matter, not someone who sits down, magically inspired, and develops an opera in a coherent fashion. He chooses his materials - so many arias, a duet here, a chorus there - by what he needs to accomplish. Such is the case here, it seems to me; Moravec and Campbell chose wisely. I'd love to read along with the libretto for a better report, but see above.

The stage and costume design (by Erhard Rom and Karin Kopischke respectively) looked pretty good from the glimpses I've seen.

A few words on the early days of trying to get King to sign off on permission to do the opera: 

"Johnson got to King’s lawyer almost immediately but negotiations stalled until Paul Moravec revealed that he was buddies with Peter Straub. Maybe he could make a call? The call hit paydirt (it didn’t hurt that Straub, unlike King, is an opera buff) and King signed off on the project with a few provisos: (1) Minnesota Opera could make a CD of the The Shining but not a DVD, (2) King maintained approval of the libretto, and (3) The opera had to be based on King’s book, not the Stanley Kubrick film. Done, said Johnson."

Did he show up during its opening and so far only run? Has he ever mentioned it in interviews? I found no answers to these questions.

And fair enough - should King pretend he's an opera fan? It might be as simple as that - he feels uncomfortable commenting on it. Again, fair enough - his permission to do it and relatively mild stipulations to do so is comment enough. I do, though, feel that some of the adaptations he has endorsed and promoted are done with far less panache and affection than this opera, so it's unfortunate, if only out of respect to such a respectful production, that he hasn't. Someone in the King camp should do something about this. If they haven't already - what do I know about what kind of emails and gift baskets and polar bear expeditions to Greenland have or haven't been organized behind the scenes?

And opera houses across the country should put it on! It's absurd something this good - and popular - can sit unused.

James Hughes, Slate - "After this brief run, the company’s hope is that the opera will travel to other cities, other shores. The sets and simulacrums of natural beauty that fit so well in St. Paul will soon be broken down and cataloged, ready to be transferred to the next caretaker. "

Let's hope so. 

~

The Shining was composed by Paul Moravec with libretto by Mark Campbell, as performed by the Minnesota Opera as part of its New Works Initiative, premiering in May 2016. Directed by Eric Simonson.