"Why Is This Funny?" - Basil Fawlty Gives His Car a Damn Good Thrashing

Okay, I’ve been too filled with catholic guilt to charge people for reading my random reflections on test cricket, saxophone solos, and deep cuts by The Replacements. But after the last piece on Brian Munich and Friends got such a good response, I’ve decided to write more about comedy, specifically how to write it.

So I’m going to write a semi-regular-ish thing called “Why is this Funny?” where I’ll take one scene from a show/film/stand-up special and add a bunch of writing lessons (or “learnings” which seems to be the current hip way of saying lessons).

The first one is the scene where John Cleese, as Basil Fawlty, tries to destroy his own car. I won’t charge for this, and hope it gets everyone hooked and end up begging to subscribe for $8. But if you sign up for a founding member thing, I’ll do a video call, or something which might help your comedy writing. For now, I’ll keep the other posts/childhood anecdotes free.

I have written and directed comedy for nearly 25 years, for shows like Rove1, Ronny Chieng: International Student and even Russell Crowe (and some other people that don’t begin with R)2. I’ve won a couple of AWG awards, which are the second most dangerously shaped award after an ARIA. I’ve taught comedy writing workshops at high schools3, universities and local libraries (which are often quite poorly attended, so the poor librarian has to gather random old people who are hanging around the library and coax/cajole/bribe them into the comedy writing workshops). And I’ve worked on two different segments that ended up with someone from the ABC in front of a senate estimates enquiry, so if you’d like to trigger you’re own senate estimates enquiry, please click this orange “Subscribe Button”

So in the words of Basil Fawlty: “3, 2, 1… Right that’s it…”

Basil Fawlty has put on a gourmet night at his two star hotel, but the chef gets drunk, so Basil has to pick up a gourmet duck for his starving guests. But on the way, his car breaks down and he gives us one of the funniest scenes in the whole series…

Here’s why it’s funny…

The whole scene lasts 65 second and it’s a masterclass. The whole thing of any show/scene is four questions questions…

• What does a character want?

• What’s stopping them?

• How far will they go to get it?

• What will they do if they do/don’t get it?

Basil wants a gourmet duck. He’s been stopped by his own piece of shit car. And when he doesn’t get it he decides to beat the shit out of his own car. Okay, that’s the end of the lesson. Thanks for your 8 bucks. Seeya next month.

Wait, what’s that? You want a bit more bang for your 8 bucks? Okay here ya go…

Basil Fawlty is good at one thing: getting insanely angry, very quickly. Unlike his piece of shit car, he goes from zero to one hundred in nano-seconds. So you just sit back and wait for the inevitable car crash.

When his car breaks down, it only takes a few seconds before he starts verbally abusing it: “Start… you vicious bastard!” Then, “I’m warning you, if you don’t start… I’ll count to three… One, two, three!” When the car doesn’t respond to his threat, he snaps, “Don’t say I haven’t warned you… I’m going to give you a damn good thrashing!” Basil then runs out of shot and returns wielding a limp, tree branch, which does not deliver a damn good thrashing, but rather, a flaccid, flailing, thwacking.

* The Tag is the joke at the end of the scene. Some Americans call it “the button”. Some people call it “the out”. I’m gonna go with Tag. (Apologies to people who know this already. I award you one little smug knowing nod)

There’s a great YouTube clip of John Cleese discussing finding the right branch in a clip for the BBC . He started with a really thick branch, but that didn’t work, because he looked like too much like a psycho. Then he tried a really thin branch and that didn’t work because it was too lame. Finally he found a larger branch that was still quite limp, which turned out to be perfect.4

Fawlty is an agitated, frustrated, repressed Englishman, who’s perpetually annoyed at his lot in life, but he’s not a psychopath. The thin branch he uses, sums up everything about him: his incompetence, impotence, the constant falling short, in that he can’t even damage his own car.

Basil is also a massive tight arse, and it’s like sub-conciously his brain has calculated that he can’t afford to destroy his own car, so he’s settled for a branch that will do the least amount of damage.

I remember getting script notes from an executive producer5 who just kept writing “Funnier Tag?” at the end of every scene. Now putting aside whether my tags were funny enough, this note is not helpful. It’s not always about finding a “funnier tag”, it’s about finding the right tag that pays off the scene, and rings true for the character. And which is hopefully, funny.

Years ago I read an interview with a jazz musician who said, you should always aim for a climax which makes the audience feel a sense of Startled Recognition. Something that when you hear it, is totally unexpected, but then makes perfect sense. The same is true of comedy. If Basil came back and beat the shit out of his car with a thick log, then he’s just doing what he said he was going to do, and that’s not surprising. Instead he subverts our expectations with a really lame branch, which is surprising, funny, and makes absolute sense for the character.6

For Basil, the car breaking down is not a random accident or a minor inconvenience. It’s another massive kick in the nuts from a life that has not worked out at all like he wanted it to. He doesn’t want to be driving that shitty car, or picking up a duck and taking it back to his two star bed and breakfast in Torquay. He wants a shiny sports car parked out the front of his five star hotel filled with members of the British aristocracy, while someone delivers him the finest ducks for his perusal.

Everything for Basil is about status. Craving it, desperately doing anything to get it, and the inevitable explosion when he doesn’t get it. That agitation fizzes through him in every single frame of Fawlty Towers. And that’s what makes this scene so real, and so funny. With all his status removed, the one thing he has left to feel superior over is his car, and he can’t even hurt that.

Be very wary of thinking of a funny gag/scene/set-piece and then reverse engineering your character to get to the gag. You might get a laugh, but if it’s not truthful, it can corrode the audience’s connection to the character.

This scene works because the scenario is so familiar, but Basil’s insane reaction is what elevates to comic brilliance. The familir is we’ve all had a car break down at the worst possible moment. But the peculiar is, Basil Fawlty threatening and attempting (and failing) to beat the shit out of his own car in broad daylight.

Edit: I forgot to mention this when i posted, so I’m adding it in.

As Pointed out by my friend Tony Wilson one of the moments is Basil running out of shot. To quote Tony, “The car for that incredible moment is alone, pensive, maybe even remorseful, as it waits for its due.” This is such a brilliant way to put it.

Also Basil leaving shot, is a great way to build the tension, as the audience wonders, “Where has he gone?”, “What is he going to come back with?” or has Basil finally snapped and he’s just going to run awayb from everything.

These days they would have three different angles, and a drone shot overhead, but it wouldn’t add to the scene. That beat, the silent breath before he comes back means, Basil’s return is even more hilarious. These days, so many shows would cut that beat out out, terrified of the silence, the dead air, or losing viewers.7

Cleese is one of the all time great physical comedians. He’s slapstick on steroids. He’s the human version of one of those inflatable blow up things outside a car wash. He gets the Gold Medal for funniest legs in the history of of Comedy

The whole scene resonates with me deeply because in my late teens, I had a VW Beetle which routinely broke down at the worst possible moments. Like the time it conked out in the middle of an intersection, while I was on a date, and the girl had to help me push.8 Just like Basil I spent many moments berating it, threatening it, although I never gave it a damn good thrashing (but maybe I should have). I didn’t get it serviced, and it eventually burst into flames at the corner of Wellington Street and Alexandra Parade, requiring three firetrucks and a Commodore full of very helpful young greek kids to put it out.9

Fawlty Towers was originally rejected by the BBC, with Cleese and his co-writer (and wife) Connie Booth getting this rejection letter from the BBC script editor, who from the tone of this correspondence, also deserved a good damn thrashing.

The definitive ranking of the Five Best Scenes where characters destroy their own car (that I thought of while writing this)

1. Fawlty Towers - A Damn Good Thrashing

2. Rat Race - Hitler’s Car - A brilliant scene from a just okay movie

3. The Simpsons - Homer 1 - New York 0

4. The Blues Brothers - Bluesmobile completely falling apart at the end (Dan Ackroyd putting his hat on his heart in solemn tribute is wonderful)

5. Tommy Boy - The Deer

(AKA Other Funny Scenes that popped into my brain while writing this)

If you’ve made it this far, here’s the awkward bit where i ask you to subscribe, which will then ask you for money. At the moment I’ll only paywall these “Why is this funny?” posts. So if you don’t subscribe, I’ll take it as a personal attack on this post, and my entire character.