For over a decade, British comedian David Earl has played Brian Gittings, a hairy, unfiltered eccentric character whose prickly perspective stimulates pity and anxiety. Jim Archer’s non-uniform sentimental heart tagger, the pseudo-documentary “Brian and Charles,” is about Brian in a corner of the Wales countryside, despite the implicit presence of a documentary speaking directly to the camera. I find myself feeling depressed and lonely. There is no obvious reason for the mockumentary element, but it gives Earl the opportunity to mug for the lens.
To correct his low loneliness, Brian builds a robot. Follow the sophisticated future of frictionless rectangles and orbs in Silicon Valley. Brian’s work, Charles, is a towering homemade chambre with gray hair and an aloof shuffle that gives the impression of a retired shepherd. Chris Hayward, who wrote the movie with Earl, played a bot and radiated great voice and physical energy from inside a costume that looked like it was constructed from a cardboard box covered with a cardigan, Paul’s mannequin. The head is sticking out from above. He tests the audience’s ability to invest in ridiculous and ridiculous formulations. And he succeeds better than the human caricatures that make up the rest of the ensemble, from Stock Brute (Jamie Mitchie) to Potential Love Interests (Louis Brealey). While the robot was teaching Brian’s social skills, he patiently got stuck with a smile.
When Brian and Charles adapt to each other, the story seems to be about Brian of Crank, who realized he was the cause of his own isolation. (Charles helps in some scenes by blurring “You’re bored!”) But soon, this intriguing psychological study relies on pressing the simplest emotional button. It turns into a programmatic nerd vs. bullying story.
Brian and Charles
Rated PG. Execution time: 1 hour 30 minutes. At the theater.
