Angry Dancing: "Flight of the Conchords" Season Ender Leaves Me Wanting More
Le sigh. Am I the only one already missing Flight of the Conchords' Bret and Jemaine? (Not to mention the series' deliciously absurd supporting characters, Mel and Murray.)
HBO's zany comedy, Flight of the Conchords, wrapped its freshman season on Sunday night and I am already bemoaning the disappearance of the absurd series from my Sunday night viewing lineup.
After all, what other series can boast hilariously tongue-in-cheek music videos about robots taking over the world, Frodo being tempted by that damned ring, or have a spot-on David Bowie (each from a specific decade, no less) visit their series lead in a dream sequence? Or, in the case of the Season One finale, have their other series lead dance a 1980s-style dance to some synth-pop because he's angry?
Answer: just one and that's the pure magic and joy of Flight of the Conchords, which I will definitely miss until the series returns in 2008. (For those of you who simply can't wait that long, the Season One DVD will be released on November 6th!)
On this week's season ender ("The Third Conchord"), the boys from New Zealand found themselves contending with a new member to their two-man folk parody group in the form of a bongo-playing maniac named Todd, who wanted them to ditch their subtle and hilarious ditties in favor of a song whose chorus consisted of "Arf, Arf." (Yes, this must be seen to be believed.) What happens next is classic Conchords: Bret and Jemaine split and form their own bands, with Bret forming the Original Flight of the Conchords with keytar player Demetri Martin (yes, that Demetri Martin) and Jemaine and Todd forming something that's either Flight of the Conchords or Crazy Dogggz (yes, with three g's and a z), depending on whom you speak to.
Of course, the boys are eventually forced out, Crazy Doggz has a huge hit with their inane doggy song (featuring a music video of women in dog ears), Mel's stalker interest moves onto their competitors, and even Murray--who reluctantly manages both the Conchords and Crazy Doggz--strikes it rich and turns up at the very end, living out his materialistic, yuppie dreams. Cue 1980s synth pop as the reunited Flight of the Conchords dances angrily into the sunset.
It was a fitting and touching end for a series that has continually managed to surprise, dazzle, and make me roar with laughter at every turn. As far as I am concerned, the sophomore season of Flight of the Conchords can't come quickly enough. Or, as Jemaine might say, yis.
HBO's zany comedy, Flight of the Conchords, wrapped its freshman season on Sunday night and I am already bemoaning the disappearance of the absurd series from my Sunday night viewing lineup.
After all, what other series can boast hilariously tongue-in-cheek music videos about robots taking over the world, Frodo being tempted by that damned ring, or have a spot-on David Bowie (each from a specific decade, no less) visit their series lead in a dream sequence? Or, in the case of the Season One finale, have their other series lead dance a 1980s-style dance to some synth-pop because he's angry?
Answer: just one and that's the pure magic and joy of Flight of the Conchords, which I will definitely miss until the series returns in 2008. (For those of you who simply can't wait that long, the Season One DVD will be released on November 6th!)
On this week's season ender ("The Third Conchord"), the boys from New Zealand found themselves contending with a new member to their two-man folk parody group in the form of a bongo-playing maniac named Todd, who wanted them to ditch their subtle and hilarious ditties in favor of a song whose chorus consisted of "Arf, Arf." (Yes, this must be seen to be believed.) What happens next is classic Conchords: Bret and Jemaine split and form their own bands, with Bret forming the Original Flight of the Conchords with keytar player Demetri Martin (yes, that Demetri Martin) and Jemaine and Todd forming something that's either Flight of the Conchords or Crazy Dogggz (yes, with three g's and a z), depending on whom you speak to.
Of course, the boys are eventually forced out, Crazy Doggz has a huge hit with their inane doggy song (featuring a music video of women in dog ears), Mel's stalker interest moves onto their competitors, and even Murray--who reluctantly manages both the Conchords and Crazy Doggz--strikes it rich and turns up at the very end, living out his materialistic, yuppie dreams. Cue 1980s synth pop as the reunited Flight of the Conchords dances angrily into the sunset.
It was a fitting and touching end for a series that has continually managed to surprise, dazzle, and make me roar with laughter at every turn. As far as I am concerned, the sophomore season of Flight of the Conchords can't come quickly enough. Or, as Jemaine might say, yis.