People Just Do Nothing: Big in Japan
UNIVERSALIt should be reasonably well known that any and all successful television show at some point will inevitably become a feature film. Porridge did it, The Inbetweeners did it – the list goes on and on, and while the sanctimony of the television show is always in conversation with such an evolution, People Just Do Nothing: Big in Japan is a genuinely fantastic next instalment for Kurupt FM crew and a tender reminder of what the viewer is missing on television.
The conventions come thick and fast, with the film taking a generous time jump after the show’s end last year; certain members have moved on while others have stayed, a few unable to dig themselves out of their hole. A call comes through from Japan, and guess what? Yep, the lads are going on tour. Now, the comparisons to The Inbetweeners are going to hit rapidly, and though the narrative and conventions ultimately follow the same thread, People Just Do Nothing: Big in Japan is a far more tender and immersive feature. It comes down to this: viewers around the age of 20-25 grew up watching The Inbetweeners ten years ago, manoeuvring through school with predicaments following the group that feel natural albeit farcical parallel to the life being lived. People Just Do Nothing feels like a natural fit for those same viewers at their age. This is a show that follows fuck-ups and those for whom the boat has settled – but that is surface, the deeper the series progresses, the more apparent it is that People Just Do Nothing is about hope and being fearless, following those feelings in the wake of not having much and maybe never having much.
This is where People Just Do Nothing: Big in Japan comes into its own. This feature film galvanises its audience in wanting the crew to succeed, and watching this feature as it slowly but inevitably falls into farce proves how gentle and warming these characters are in the fact they all begin to understand what they are truly about. Granted, choosing Japan to Croydon clearly has its positives. The culture shock is just one important but entertaining element that strikes fear into the group and showcases their wonderful naivety that warms the viewer. The joke is consistently referential and never nasty or spiteful. It does not judge this set of characters but presents them as such in their authentic and organic selves.
As implied, the depth here is terrifically well managed; when it wants to touch on a few harsher topics, it does so with a level headed fashion and perfectly executes sombre and the emotional overtones in classic brilliant fashion. The comedic overtones are spiralling out of control with a fabulous screenplay. Asim Chaudhry is utter perfection with his character, whose charisma and charm bring an immersive pull. Hugo Chegwin is equally as fantastic and, undoubtedly, the actor who pieces this all together with a genuinely brilliant performance with strong wit and his constant deadpan ignorance.
It is a feature that, quite surprisingly, at a light ninety-seven minutes gives each and every character a volume or arc that gives substantial credence to not only the power of each respective actor but also a character in a form fans might not be able to see again for some time. Credit here to the writers and stars of the show Steve Stamp and Allan Mustafa, who balance this piece terrifically well. At times, it does feel that small elements are thrown in, such as Lily Brazier's Miche and Daniel Sylvester Woolford's Decoy that have little to do – albeit canonically accurate. Nevertheless, the duo add to the chaos and warmth of the feature ten-fold and never feel an excessive inclusion.
Perhaps it is never original, and the viewer can literally read this narrative like a book with dramatic conventions predictable at every corner, but throughout, it feels like the viewer has to care. Just seeing Kurupt again, their travels, and their flirt with destiny is all too engulfing and memorable to concede any or all faults of the piece. Even on a cinematic level, it feels almost faultless, with the documentarian aesthetic never overlong or taking away from proceedings, but surprisingly it is that very production that gleams with freshness and visual invitation.
As George Harrison once said, "All things must pass," and while People Just Do Nothing: Big in Japan does not necessarily rule out another outing, the foreseeable future looks a little drab without plans for the crew to be on any medium any time soon. However, pausing and reflecting here feels not only welcoming but an honourable and correct decision to allow them to soak in a little glory, to bask in some success before they blow it all on skunk and designer gear. Until then, People Just Do Nothing: Big in Japan is a masterstroke of character and entertainment.
