Charlie Brooker

Charlie Brooker interview

Never one to mince his words, Charlie Brooker returns with a new instalment of satirical show Weekly Wipe.

Charlie Booker interview

He's the sharp-tongued satirist who has made a living out of lampooning everything from Benefits Street to Katie Hopkins, but Charlie Brooker's viewing habits might surprise his fans.

The festive special of Charlie Brooker's dystopian anthology series is, as you might expect, entirely lacking in goodwill, depicting the holiday season as a period of solitude and emptiness. Which makes it perfect viewing for January, a time when even the faintest memory of the Christmas gorging session is likely to have you reaching for the sick bucket. Jon Hamm and Rafe Spall are two singletons, sharing stories of gadget-enabled love and loss over a Christmas dinner. But something's not quite right with their situation...

Charlie Brooker: Xmas, CB radios & 1 toilet households

The acerbic writer is no Grinch, especially with his former Blue Peter presenter wife making decorations from Fairy Liquid bottles.

Radio Times review

2014 was a gruelling year of violence and confusion. The news was a horror show and our culture was replaced by hashtags. The high point was people dousing themselves in buckets of iced water like penitent monks. Even on television, things got grim. Remember Benefits Street? Remember Tumble?

As is tradition, Charlie Brooker peers deeply into this annus horribilis to make sure no old grievances are forgot. As is tradition, you will find yourself getting worn out around September: a year's worth of vitriol is a lot in one dose. But it's a necessary rite to round off 2014, one last cleansing shower of bile before we do it all again. Roll on 2015.

Charlie Brooker's 2014 Wipe, BBC2, review

Brooker's Wipe might be uncomfortably similar to Russell Brand's YouTube rant 'The Trews' were it not for the top-notch contributors.

Goodbye, cruel 2014: we promise not to miss you

From flooding to Benefits Street, the rise of Ukip to the Apple Watch, the year was filled with huge, grim events. We could all use a lie-down over Christmas.

I didn't have to starve for too long in search of equally gamey broth, in the reliable shape of Charlie Brooker's Black Mirror: White Christmas. Mr Brooker takes few prisoners when it comes to those possessed of pygmy imaginations, which is meet and right for grown-up telly. So within 90 minutes we were introduced to the concept of "blocking" an individual as one would an ex-Facebook friend, but actually doing so in real life (thanks to everyone in the near future having chosen to implant so-called Z-Eyes, hooked up of course to the net: do keep up); the blockee appears only as a greyed-out shadow and may neither call nor approach.

Then to the concept of extracting an "egg" of consciousness, a kind of Mini-Me, purely to toil in a tiny, white, closed cyberjail at the tasks of keeping the real-life Me fed and watered and kept at the right temperature and with the toast done just so: basically, the concept of outsourcing a small twitch of one's own soul, the better to keep body and... body together. Already we'd addressed the issues of slavery, alienation, the speeding up of time (and thus, when there's absolutely nothing to do, the creation of pathological boredom), the inadvisability of taking anyone's advice on dating, and that was within about seven minutes, before we even got on to the concept of Jon Hamm and Rafe Spall stuck in Ice Station Zebra at Christmas, caning the port.

These actors, and this in its entirety, were phenomenal, but there were so many fine ideas, both uplifting and dystopian, that I can't quickly do them justice - other than to offer the obvious thought that it's not the technology: it's us. And to observe that Mr Brooker must be becoming mildly fed up at having his technological imaginings superseded every six months. Google, do be careful what you wish for: when the gods wish to punish us, first they answer our prayers.

I'm not sure how much of a reward the Christmas special of Black Mirror would actually be and I think you'd have to be a rather strange individual to want a rather dark present such as the one Charlie Brooker conjured up. Subtitled White Christmas; the feature-length special of Brooker's dystopian fantasy anthology saw Matt (Jon Hamm) and Sam (Rafe Spall) hauled up in a remote shack in the middle of nowhere. We are told early on that Matt and Sam have barely spoke to each other in the five years they've lived and worked together. As you would expect with Black Mirror, the Christmas element become slightly eerie and from the first time we hear it Wizard's 'I Wish It Could be Christmas Everyday' takes on an ominous tone. Hamm initially plays up to his smoothie persona in the first story in which we learn of Matt's hobby which involves helping losers-in-love get dates. However, as we discover, his most recent client didn't have the best of experiences after he gatecrashed a Christmas party and ended up a reluctant part of a suicide pact. Whilst this first third was suitably shocking the second segment of the programme; in which we saw Matt at work was rather confusing. Although it did go some way to explain the episode's final act I found it to be rather rushed and also felt that it ruined the significant talents of Oona Chaplin. The real emotional core of the episode was provided by Sam as we learnt of his turbulent relationship with girlfriend Beth (Janet Montgomery) which ended when she wanted to abort the baby she was carrying. This story brought with it one of the episode's central ideas; what if we were able to block somebody in real life like we can currently do on Twitter? The answer was incredibly memorable and also provided some really vivid images which stuck with me long after the episode had concluded.

Whilst White Christmas wasn't up there with Black Mirror's best, which I still feel is series two's White Bear, it certainly had its moments. Many of these were provided by Joe's story which I found to be the most profound thanks in no small part to the brilliant performance from Spall. I think that Spall's facial expressions were perfectly utilised as part of a story in which he had to convey emotion by saying very little. The look on his face when Joe was blocked by Beth was particularly powerful as was the expression when he discovered the truth about the daughter she'd given birth to. Black Mirror has always been based around vivid technological ideas and the legal blocking technique felt like a plausible narrative device. On the other hand I'm still not quite sure what the cookie implant story achieved other than giving us one final reveal. Whilst Spall provided the emotional depth that the episode required; Hamm appeared to be having a ball as the sleazy executive who'd overstepped the line in more ways than one. Hamm's performance as the cool Matt was great in the first voyeuristic tale which I thought went a little too far even by Black Mirror's standards. The Christmas theme of the episode wasn't overplayed but was used just enough and I thought Hamm's cooking of the Yuletide dinner was a nice touch. One thing I did find was that Brooker struggled to write a feature-length instalment and, although all the pieces fit together, the middle of the episode really dragged for me. However, I can't say that Brooker didn't provide a powerful piece of Christmas television and it's also fair to say that that no other festive special will have the same tone as Black Mirror. Ultimately I found White Christmas to be a unique special episode but I feel that the Black Mirror series works better in forty-minute episodes rather than in feature-length installments.

From conscious uncoupling to the ice bucket challenge to those grey-haired berks and their cereal cafe, 2014 has been a year more stuffed than most with inanity, which augurs well for Charlie Brooker's seasonal skewering. He'll be joined as ever by delightful dullards Barry Shitpeas and Philomena "What is clocks?" Cunk, while comedian Jake Yapp will be on hand to mercilessly mock one of 2014's other major moments while talking extremely quickly. A new series of Charlie Brooker's Weekly Wipe will air in January.