Dream house backdrop

Dream house backdrop 

Father came too!, the Scottish variation on the theme of the dream house is a well-produced comedy of the 1960s, a time when British films were clever and refreshing. It relates the perils of refurbishing an old cottage for a newly-wed couple. Unfortunately, as the title suggests, the building activities are more of a backdrop to the power struggle between the husband and his father-in-law )played with a typically larger-than-life attitude by James Robertson Justice). It compares unfavourably to the directer relation between the Blandingses and their new dream home, as well as the new home's catalytic role in personal relationships and situations. Nevertheless, building activities in Father came too! provide more than enough grounds for funny situations, generally focusing on the ineptitude of DIY-beginners and the shiftiness of contractors and worked. It's interesting to see such versions of stereotypes which still exist in British comedy.

The dream house

The dream house 

One of the few architectural  subjects in comedy is the dream house: a pride and joy that turns into trouble. The Blandings family in Mr Blanding builds his dream house suffers from its naive attitude towards the tricky issues and devious people in the real estate and building trade. This does not apply to their architect, who is not coincidentally the only straight character in the film; he is just a helpless in-between. The Blandingses even come close to the brink of collapse but in the end they triumph and live happily ever after. That's sympathetic comedy for you: even if you feel superior to the naive heroes of the film, you want them to succeed and feel glad for them if they manage to do it, yet still have a laugh at their tribulations.

A different kind of sympathy is what they try to elicit from the viewer in comedies like HouseSitter and The frighteners. In both cases, the hero is an architect who started building a dream house for the love of their life: the dream house is not a goal but part of the background, something that gives their architect owners a tragic dimension and makes us wish them well. Especially in The frighteners, the ghostly half-finished dream house is a powerful setting that works well (HouseSitter fails in that respect, as it does in most respects - it feels strange to praise a film with Michael J. Fox and dismiss one by Frank Oz with Steve Martin). In fact, it works on two levels because it also becomes a goal in the end.

What makes the dream house interesting is that it's not just a possession: it's the container of a dream life with a dream companion. As a comedic setting it gives opportunities for physical comedy and provides rich metaphors. But it's the emotional power of a desired state for both the house and its occupants that plays in the sympathy of the viewers. We don't care if the Blandings home may prove a costly affair in maintenance the shoddy way it must have been built; we can share their relief and joy for the present and hope for the best in the future. After all, houses are always causes of trouble - we're used to that.

Architecture in comedy

Architecture in comedy

Architecture is serious business and architects do their best to radiate seriousness. This is probably why architects and architecture are not among the favourite subjects of comedy, together with all other pompous professions - or maybe it's because architects, despite their desire for gentrification, never managed to become real authority figures, so they do not attract (or merit) ridicule as much.

If you ask an architect what their favourite film on architecture is, they'll probably say The Fountainhead or something similarly earnest or artistic. Mine has to be a comedy: Mr Blandings builds his dream house. It has everything: city folks desirous of living in the country; an architect powerless to control clients or builders; a builder who's a bit of a cheat - and all the trimmings of a clever American comedy of the 1940s.

There are two parts that really make me laugh. The first is when Mr Blandings gets advice from various builders as to what to do with the house he has just bought in the country. In a sequence of quick cuts everybody tells him to tear it down - I love it when experts agree. The second is when Mrs Blandings meticulously specifies the colours of the interiors by reference to all kinds of stuff including a specific kind of butter; the builder just nods, accepts samples and when she leaves he turns to his painter and says: "White, green, yellow ...".

The same had happened to me when I was a student and had taken a job with a construction firm that was building a factory for a Japanese company. The Japanese engineers who were supervising the project were quite precise; one day they insisted that some railings should be painted in a particular RAL value. My boss was mystified and asked me to find out what the colour was (and what RAL was). I explained it was a yellow hue, so he summarily decided on the standard yellow colour the firm was using in all projects. The result made the Japanese happy. Proudly they told me that it was thanks to them insisting on using RAL. Standardization helps communication, they said.