Whilst a niche title to give to a series, The Trip is genuinely the premier example of geniuses at work. With Steve Coogan the mastermind behind the whole premise, Rob Brydon's exceptional chemistry and amicability allows the improvisational script to flow effortlessly. Coogan's subdued, biting and critical input grates against Brydon's endless optimism, providing the recipe for the perfect comedy dialogue as they move from restaurant to restaurant. The entire plot takes a backseat for most of the episodes, with life's trivialities becoming distant to the two of them; yet, this beauty of this show is its ability to bring you straight back to the present, using small interactions (like phone calls) to provide each character greater depth.
The genius of the show, however, comes from the blurring of the lines between fiction and fact, and how the viewer can decide for themselves where that line is. Coogan seems intent on presenting himself as the downtrodden, past-his-time actor/comic, bored of his bachelor life but intent to power through with it. This plays perfectly off of Brydon, who has the polar opposite life, settled down with a wife and daughter. Even if you believe their self-presentations, the interactions with staff, co-workers and family members, as well as their awareness of their own ageing, allows you to empathise with them more, becoming the main point of the show (rather than the loose premise of food reviews).
However, the crown jewel of the show is the straight dialogue between the two. As they trade veiled insults and brilliant impressions of past and present actors, they show their vulnerabilities both to age and to never reaching the peaks of their idols and stars. This manifests further throughout the second season, culminating with a tragically beautiful scene on the coast of Italy, as they come to terms with their heroes beginning to fade.
Whilst no episode is a dramatic piece on its own, when combined they paint a detailed picture of both characters and their lives, as well as their images of themselves. Food reviews? Less so.
The genius of the show, however, comes from the blurring of the lines between fiction and fact, and how the viewer can decide for themselves where that line is. Coogan seems intent on presenting himself as the downtrodden, past-his-time actor/comic, bored of his bachelor life but intent to power through with it. This plays perfectly off of Brydon, who has the polar opposite life, settled down with a wife and daughter. Even if you believe their self-presentations, the interactions with staff, co-workers and family members, as well as their awareness of their own ageing, allows you to empathise with them more, becoming the main point of the show (rather than the loose premise of food reviews).
However, the crown jewel of the show is the straight dialogue between the two. As they trade veiled insults and brilliant impressions of past and present actors, they show their vulnerabilities both to age and to never reaching the peaks of their idols and stars. This manifests further throughout the second season, culminating with a tragically beautiful scene on the coast of Italy, as they come to terms with their heroes beginning to fade.
Whilst no episode is a dramatic piece on its own, when combined they paint a detailed picture of both characters and their lives, as well as their images of themselves. Food reviews? Less so.