Repetition can help clarity. It emphasises significance, and shines a light more directly onto something hidden. It can guide us gently into an area we might have otherwise circumvented, and urge us to stare at something for long enough to see beyond, and transcend previous, long-held opinions. It can also, of course, become very tired very fast and that was, sadly, the case with the third series of John Morton’s BBC mockumentary sitcom. It was, to be honest, struggling to find new things to say as early as series two.
The joke, and there really has only ever been one, is the doublespeak and confusion within a big organisational structure. The interchangeability of “Yes” and “No” in meetings, more often deployed together as a conversational beat rather than as any kind of meaningful reply, is used constantly as a signifier of the lack of plain speaking. However, the fact that so few of its characters existed outside of this conceit means that they have never developed past being funny – but unescapably flat – caricatures.
The acting has been routinely excellent, with Jessica Stevenson’s monstrous PR guru Siobhan Sharpe and Hugh Bonneville’s fantastically flabbergasted head of values Ian Fletcher (pictured left) heading a cast whose sense of comic timing is simply stunning. But the characters were rarely given anything to do outside of driving a very simple and spine-straight storyline.
Throughout this series, we have followed the progress of the “More of Less” initiative, which aimed, “to identify what the BBC does best and find more ways of doing less of it better”. We’ve seen the YouTube inspired “BBC Me” project and the slow decay of chat show concept On Your Bike into an extended selfie slot, before gaining traction and becoming a TV bicycle resolutely not made for two, but with both Amanda Holden and Claudia Winkleman desperate to ride it. This has all been largely played out in rigid, halting meetings with people agreeing, parroting and talking cock without being called out on it. So far, so familiar.
In the final episode, there seemed to be a conscious shift towards a more character-led narrative. Whether it was done in a last-ditch attempt to imbue emotive resonance or just as the easiest way of tying up loose ends is unclear, but the launch of “BBC Me” was clearly WIA’s Office party. However – and it’s a big however – while Hugh Skinner (Will) and Ophelia Lovibond (Izzy, both pictured below with Rufus Jones) are fine actors, their "will-they-won’t-they?" moment lacked the poignant engagement of Wernham Hogg's Tim and Dawn. Similarly, Izzy slapping Jack (Jonathan Bailey) packed much less punch than David Brent telling Chris Finch to “Fuck off”.
If we were expected to relate to the characters on an emotional level, it was too little, too late – in truth we barely know them. Funny is fine – and W1A is certainly funny – but it only takes us so far on its own. Still, it was a pleasant relief to see Ian Fletcher deliver an impromptu speech that made sense and said something broadly meaningful about the BBC which remains a fine, though possibly unwieldly institution and, lest we forget, is still the best value £145 any of us spends in a year.