The Vicar of Dibley

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The Vicar of Dibley
5 / 5

Series: 3 with specials
Aired: 1994 - 2007
Channel: BBC One
Writer: Richard Curtis, Paul Mayhew-Archer and Kit Hesketh-Harvey
Cast: Dawn French, Trevor Peacock, Emma Chambers, Gary Waldhorn, James Fleet, Richard Armitage et al

I had a hankering for something I knew I loved so I turned to The Vicar of Dibley. I've seen every single episode, know all the characters through and through and can probably dictate some choice scenes to you if asked (jumping in the puddle twice). But when I settled down and watched the first series I was supremely disappointed: it wasn't as funny as I remember it. In fact, I didn't remember the first series at all, except the opening scenes where they're horrified at the prospect of a female vicar (as most people were back then: that's the point).

What had happened? Had I completely changed as a person that not even Dawn French stuffing her face with chocolate could wrack me out of such a dire hole of despair? Was I just too young to realise that it wasn't actually a good comedy programme, or possibly just blinded by my awe of Dawn French and sheer joy at how utterly daft Emma Chambers' character Alice was?

Actually, no. It's just the first series just wasn't that funny. It's good: it has a good plot, great if sometimes over-the-top characters and setting to die for (and one which I am quite familiar with). There were laughs but they were tame, almost as if having a female vicar was enough, as if they wanted to make sure the BBC commissioner didn't have another heart attack.

But then we rolled in to the second series, because once you start a binge watch you cannae stop a binge watch, and lo and behold (bringing that phrase back btw) the funnies came and I was totally in love once more. It is so utterly clever I think I missed that in the first series: I was looking for the laughs instead of just enjoying the comedy. I was blindly remembering the big laughs instead of appreciating the characters, the conversation and the communication between them. When they sit around that table they don't listen to each other at all: it's one big seflish ego fest and it's wonderful, but then Geraldine turns up and all of a sudden they are listening to each other, and it's still wonderful because you can see the cogs turning and you can actually see them thinking and working it out: finding out that you can have your own opinions whilst also listening to other people's, too.

You don't need to be religious to enjoy it, either. Or a Feminist, or particularly adept at recognising good comedy from bad. It is, obviously, fervently etched with religion but that's just the backdrop: a clever one, because religious communities are by definition very close-knit, and often closed in, and their interactions are iron cast in such an exposed yet isolated location. We rarely hear of the characters religious tendencies, and even Geraldine's is so full of humour as she hangs a picture of Sean Bean besides Jesus on her walls it's almost a moot point.

I didn't get through the specials, mostly because I don't own them, but also because Geraldine marrying Richard Armitage's character Harry and the Church Scene is still so wildly etched on to my brain I don't need to watch it: it's there and it will be there forever. It is silly but in a very real way and whilst the constant jokes about Geraldine eating a lot of chocolate because she's fat is something I dislike in comedy as a whole tinged it in the remotest sense possible, it's still so utterly divine. It's also very English and I can't quite believe there were only 3 series, albeit with very long episodes and added-on specials. It's also something I long to go back to still, not for the comedy per sé, but for the camaraderie that was born of what was ultimately sexism.