Films for Breakfast

Even more so than general theatrical comedies, spoof comedies seem to be having a genuine revitalization. Between The Naked Gun earlier this year and Scary Movie 6 set to come out next summer, it feels like Hollywood is happily returning to the well of slapstick – and honestly, I welcome it with open arms. When executed well, the sub-genre is a perfect outlet for both affectionate homage and delightfully juvenile humor.

Admittedly, Fackham Hall spoofs territory I’m far less familiar with than the worlds that The Naked Gun or Scary Movie take on. While it takes aim at a broad spectrum of British romances and historical dramas, its primary target is definitely Downton Abbey. Yet the film wisely operates at such a broad, inviting level that you can enjoy it fully regardless of your familiarity with the original material.

Written by Jimmy Carr and directed by Jim O’Hanlon, the film follows the Davenport family as they attempt to prevent the sale of their estate, untangle a murder, and survive the fallout of their eldest daughter’s wedding. Carr and O’Hanlon have a blast poking at British institutions, classic British literature and media, and the broader culture. As with all spoofs, some jokes are hyper-specific and genuinely clever, while others gleefully plunge into sex and fart gags.

And that’s the pleasure of Fackham Hall – and of the spoof sub-genre in general. The balance between sharp, affectionate parody and proudly low-brow toilet humor is where the magic often lies. There are countless bits built on injury, misunderstandings, falling in and out of frame, farts, and assorted nonsense; and yet… it works. There’s something innately funny about this kind of silliness, especially when set against the pristine backdrop of a British period drama.

The production design and cinematography are genuinely impressive( luxurious, even) which makes the jokes land even harder. The glossy, PBS/BBC-caliber aesthetic highlights the absurdity while also allowing for clever visual gags: background injuries, blink-and-you-miss-it signage, characters tumbling in and out of frame, and even fart sound design that’s comically precise.

The performances also do a lot of heavy lifting, and the ensemble clearly understands the assignment. Damian Lewis is especially fun to watch, playing wildly against his usual dramatic work, and Thomasin McKenzie is a revelation here. She commits fully to the bit, delivering both physical comedy and deadpan line readings with real finesse. She’s the MVP by a long shot.

It’s hard to critique a film like Fackham Hall. As far as modern parodies go, it’s one of the stronger entries. It’s well-made, consistently funny, and executed with genuine affection for its targets. The only thing holding it back from true greatness is that it never quite reaches the delirious highs of the Naked Gun or Airplane era, and I’m not sure it’s one I’ll be revisiting anytime soon. But for what it aims to be, it’s a thoroughly entertaining ride.

Ultimately, Fackham Hall feels like a welcome reminder that these kind of comedies still have plenty of life in them when executed properly. It’s clever without being pretentious, stupid in all the right ways, and crafted with far more care than you’d expect from a movie built on fart jokes and crude humor. If this is the direction the spoof revival is heading, I’m more than happy to see the genre make its return.