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- 44
I've just finished the first two series of It Ain't Half Hot Mum.
I hadn't even thought of throwing it into my future watches, but your comments have moved it onto my radar.
It's taken the best part of three years, but it's finally happening. As of last night I'm two episodes in.
I have a feeling this is going to be a grower for me. I haven't yet warmed to the characters. Though that's possibly because I'm still trying work out who is who, as is often the way with ensembles. Particularly an all male one.
The sweaty men and Ranji's hacking and spitting are taking a little adjustment also and risk making my evening snack a bit of a challenge. Last night I struggled with my muesli.
But with only two episodes down and fifty four still to watch, I'm feeling confident it will click with me soon. Episode Two's bad ventriloquism gave me a few little titters, so that's a good sign.
The jewel in its crown is also the reason it's been more or less airbrushed (unfairly, in my opinon) from British sitcom history: Michael Bates' exquisitely judged, affectionate (and yes, cocoaed-up) performance as bearer Ranji Rahm.
Affectionate is a good word, I think. It comes across that Bates is playing what he knows, drawing from his own experiences. It's homage rather than ridicule.
He'd be happy to ship them all up the jungle except that he believes one of the party (the stupidest one of the bunch) to be his illegimate son. The genius bit is that the lad isn't his son and everybody knows it but him. So it's slightly tragic as well as broadly humourous.
That aspect of the series, and the hint of pathos that it brings, feels like a Croft/Perry trademark.