SPACED: The Complete Series

Jerry Harrison once said the greatest thing about being in the band Talking Heads was feeling that anyone who was a fan would be someone he’d want to know. There are certain pieces of art that – if they speak to you – make you of a sort. And anyone who loves Spaced is one of us.

What is “us?” Well, it’s not just fans of Edgar Wright, Simon Pegg, Jessica Hynes nee Stevenson, or Nick Frost (not to mention Mark Heap, Julia Deakin, Katy Carmichael, or Aida the dog), no, though they are definitely a part of it. And they are pretty fucking great and talented bunch. No, it’s – for better or worse – people who have gone through something very similar to what the show is about. The curious conundrum modern artists face is that pop culture is so prevalent in non-third world nations, such a unavoidable aspect of people’s lives, that to represent the truth of our generation one must acknowledge all of those influences. If you are of a certain age, seeing Star Wars was a rite of passage, and it’s likely that you’d have seen the original trilogy enough to make offhanded references to power converters. That you had taped the OT off of cable or TV (maybe trying to do your own personal, commercial-free edit by standing patiently with your finger near the pause button, knowing the rhythms of your VCR enough to know how much time it would take for it to get up to speed, and perhaps guestimating rightly or wrongly about when the commercial break would end, sometimes leaving quick blips of the beginning or ends of commercials as the fade in or out was breaking… and perhaps fighting with yourself about which speed to record the films in: SP, LP or ELP, knowing you might lose more than just the credits). It doesn’t matter if you had exactly the same experience (some people taped them off of cable), but among people birthed from the baby boomer generation, there is a shorthand that pop-culture provides, and it is intrinsic to our lives.

Spaced is a masterpiece (said it, sorry, it’s true) for how it weaves its pop-cultural references into the texture of the show on all levels of production in such a way that it never takes you out of the narrative. That’s always the problem with pop-cultural references, in that it can often be a fourth wall-breaker, but here, it is so much a part of the characters that how it springs out becomes natural. It’s how you tell the story, and it never distracts or overwhelms, because these characters see themselves in those terms. I can think of few pieces of art that capture that as perfectly.

Simon Pegg is Tim Bisley. The show starts with him breaking up with his girlfriend when he finds out that she cheated on him with good friend/douchebag Duane (Peter Serafinowicz). Jessica Hynes is Daisy Steiner. Her situation is much less dire: she lives with some flatmates that she doesn’t really care for. The two meet in a café and commiserate and eventually look for apartments. They run across the perfect one, but there’s a small catch: It’s a couples-only flat. To get in, they pretend to be in a relationship for landlord Marsha (is Julia Deakin), and their illusion proves successful. They also meet the other tenant, the oft-naked Brian (is Mark Heap), an artist who is decidedly off. Tim and Daisy have their respective best friends in Mike Watt (Nick Frost, is) and Twist (Katy “is” Carmichael). The former would have loved to be in the military, so instead is just kinda gun-nutty, while Twist is the overly fashionable type who can’t help but drip contempt for everyone around her.

The hook, is - of course - the (I don’t want to say least, but) most marginally dwelt-upon hook aspect to which the story begins. It also makes sense because Hynes and Pegg come across in the show as meant for each other. And, like a number of shows that traffic in the unrequited, the sexual tension between them is the sinew that holds the show together. But how the show deals with that is always interesting. The two have their moments, but Tim spends much of season one in a situation where he’s not ready to deal with anything new, and in season two he meets a girl he likes, and she’s great. That’s another brilliant decision by the Spaced team: at no point is Sophie (Lucy Akhurst), Tim’s new girlfriend, ever a monster or vilified. She’s actually pretty awesome, and you never question why Tim’s with her. You just hate that he can’t move on to Daisy, though there’s also a sense that stability has been reached and that Tim may want to, he’d rather not fuck up what he has (Daisy would really have to be the one to jump him).

Shit, I’m coming up with conclusions about how this would go down. Why? Well, because this show is personal to me. Rarely can you say that a piece of art is a “you” surrogate (though perhaps cleverer than you’d ever be), but the ultimate power of the show (for me at least) is how much I relate. I know these people, I’ve been aspects of both Tim and Daisy, and I understand them on a level that feels intimate.

I first heard of Edgar and Simon in 2004 when the Shaun of the Dead buzz started, and when I came to Los Angeles for a trial run (to see if I could live there). I met Drew “Moriarty” McWeeny for the first time a couple of hours after he had seen Shaun as we were waiting to see Kill Bill Volume 2. And Drew couldn’t stop raving. I was skeptical, but when I saw the film, I got it. Such led me to getting the Region 2 original DVD release of Spaced, which had the commentaries and the majority of the extras included herein, but not the third disc. After seeing Shaun, I had to show both Shaun (I got the R2 as soon as I could) and Spaced to anyone I could have over, and dragged an armful of friends to the opening of Shaun, partly in loyalty to Spaced. My Disc Two of Spaced was scratched, and I ran to the nearest electronics store to find anything that might repair the disc just to finish what I had started (sadly, it was on S2, E5 that the disc went wonky). Thankfully, I was able to heal the disc, but at that moment I had some violence in me. One of my buddies was set to interview Frost, Pegg, and Wright for the SofD release, and I told him that he had to come over and at least see the opening of Season 2, Episode 1 before talking to the gents (whilst also showing S1 E3, as it was considered the impetus for the film). But as I was preaching the merits of Spaced, I was also preparing to leave my hometown for LA. And as I voraciously consumed it, it couldn’t help but key into the emotions I was going through. I spent two weekends watching it with my closest friends (one season each Sunday), and when I was looking for apartments in LA, I showed a number of episodes to another friend. Like all art you fall for, I often had a copy around to proselytize. But Spaced was part of that transition. It became a part of me.

I should mention that S1, E3 (“Art”) has Vulva (David Walliams), whose performance art piece, and various bits after are hilarious regardless of context (“pud-ding”), and that there’s no denying the brilliance of Michael Smiley’s performance as the E’d out Tyres. Jesus, finger guns in S2 E5 is the single greatest stand-alone episode of the run. Wait, what about the RotJ gag in S2, E1? Wait, what about the way Tim gets fired (both times) in S2, E2?

Here’s my problem, I find that the show works as one long movie, a six hour ride with these characters over fourteen episodes that tie together seamlessly. And as much as I like one episode over others, as much as I can cringe at certain moments for their fanboyishness that I relate to way too much (which the creators do in a post-Matrix Reloaded universe), it’s the whole that makes it so memorable. And when Spaced begins its final montage, the shot Brian with his portrait has yet to not resonate so strongly through me that I can’t not respond. In fourteen episodes, you grow to love these characters, and you want the best for them.

Wright notes that there is a strong difference between the look and feel of seasons one and two, and he’s got a point. The first season is a little bit more intimate (perhaps because Pegg – as he explicates– made Tim’s character a surrogate for his own feelings about a recent break-up) while the second season is more outlandish in terms of homage, and the it is less intimate in terms of the emotional content (Tim is less of a loser two years later). But none of this makes either season lesser because the characters and performances are still there. And I love how – as Wright notes – often one or both of these characters will start a day hung over. It’s not something that ever comes up, it’s just one will be sullen, or less mobile in the morning because they got trashed. It’s not anything more than what it is.

In 2008 Spaced (which ran in 1999 and 2001 on Channel 4) will finally hit DVD stateside. Watching the show now, Daisy – qua writer – uses a typewriter, and no one is ever shown at a computer. In a measly seven years Spaced has become a period piece as few characters have cell phones, and computers are not a prominent part of anyone’s lives (even if Tim is the sort who might spend his break-time surfing AICN, etc.) . People still use video cassettes, and no one texts (unimaginable in the world we live in today). As such, the show is the final statement on a culture that still exists, but not as it does now. This is the analog version of our current situation, and it’s still relevant, but Spaced exists as a time capsule, the last statement of a generation that didn’t have phones that had internet access, so having that pop-culture instant-recall was just who we were. Because to find Spaced you had to know, and even with the Region 1 DVD release, you have to know, so it’s still a signifier. Because if you’re into this show it speaks to you. And if it does, if it feels all too close to home, then you’re one of us. You might have an Evil Dead 2 poster, but you’re going to class it up by framing it. Cause that’s who you are. I once had to pick a favorite episode, and I picked the last, not just because the final montage always makes me cry (sadly it does), but because the whole thing works as a piece. And though I love me some Wire, if I had to pick a favorite TV show, this would be it.

Who the fuck did this new artwork? It’s similar to the British three disc, but I feel bad for Mark “Motherfuckin’” Heap (of Green Wing and Stardust acclaim), as the artwork does him no favors. He looks like a Kenner version of Han Solo, where you look at the face, and have to say “yeah… no.” It’s got the feel of a Struzan, but it’s too bad they didn’t get the Struzan.

Having owned this title three times now, this is easily the best version of it, and there’s no reason to hold on to your region-free version at all (except for nostalgia). The show is presented in anamorphic widescreen (1.78:1) and in 2.0 stereo. I am writing the specs now, and to do so, I restarted disc one, and found myself sucked in. Jesus. Such a mark. The series comes with the original commentaries by Wright, Pegg, Hynes, Frost, Mark Heap, Julia Deakin and producer Nira Park, while new and exclusive to this set are commentaries with Wright, Pegg and Hynes with Kevin Smith (for 3 episodes), Diablo Cody, Matt Stone, and and Quentin Tarantino (all get 2 eps), while Wright goes it alone with Patton Oswalt (3 eps) and Bill Hader (2 eps). Only sometimes do these commentaries talk about the episode at hand, while much is spent riffing with each other about geek stuff. One of the best bits is when Tarantino full on disses Revenge of the Sith as a terrible movie. While Bill Hader and Wright talk about a twenty minute deleted scene where a minor character talks to a dog about Joseph Kahn’s Torque - which they recognize as one of the greatest moments in the history of cinema. You get Oswalt verbally stalking Hynes, and Stone talking about how much he loves the drug use shown in the series. Everyone brings out different things, and it’s a lot of fun. You can tell that most of these people are friends, and the banter is excellent, and no one turns it into a dick-sucking contest.

All three discs feature biographies of the cast, crew and characters, and all epsidoes come with a homage-o-meter, which will help those who don’t know what a “Joey” is. Only the info on the third disc has been updated, so this is the same exact content as from the original release (no mentions of Hot Fuzz until Disc three). Disc one features seven teasers for the show (5 min.), and outtakes (9 min.). My favorite moment in S1 currently is Nick Frost leading a bunch of Ravers in miming blowing their brains out. That always makes me die. Disc two feature seven trailers (5 min.), outtakes (13 min.), bios (for the characters, and Edgar and Nira Park, and “Daisy Does Elvis” (1 min.) which is pretty self-explanatory, while there’s also a photo gallery featuring the cast fucking off, and a number of pictures of half-naked men (though there’s no fucking off in those photos).

Disc three offers the majority of the supplements. How crazy is that? In the section “Spaced Season 1 Extras” is “Raw Footage” (7 min.), thirteen deleted scenes (15 min.) with commentary by Wright and Pegg, and then “More Outtakes” (5 min.). In the section “Spaced Season 2 Extras” are eighteen deleted scenes (18 min.) with optional commentary by Wright and Pegg (including an alternate ending), and “Raw Footage” (7 min.). The great gem here is “Skip to the End” (81 min.), which really understands how a number of great creative forces came together to make this. It’s really a great retrospective piece, and the ending is a must-see. There’s also a music video for “Spaced Jam” by Osymyso, and finally cast and crew bios that are modestly current. To round out the set is a Spaced Q&A (58 min.) with Hynes (in cameo), Wright and Pegg talk about making the show, and then are joined by Deakins, Heap, and Carmichael. There are a number of good questions, along with Pegg’s thoughts on what would have happened in the third season. I’ve also heard tell of some Easter Eggs.