Rob Brydon and Steve Coogan: Were not the big buddies people think we are | Culture | The Guardian

The waiter brings the wine and pours a little for Coogan to taste. “Yeah, that’s lovely,” he says. “What are you doing with the wine-tasting?” hisses Brydon after the waiter has departed. “When you taste wine you’re not saying whether you like it, you’re saying if it’s not corked.” He illustrates his point, showing how to sip and then curtly nod. Coogan looks at him with some detachment. “Can you do that and not be camp?” he wonders. There is an awkward silence, the pair discuss their starters of scallops and tomato soup, the constitution of fishcakes, and Brydon idly sings He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother. It’s the casual conversation of people who know one another well, charged with the certain frisson of two men who have lately spent more time in one another’s company than they would normally wish.

This adequately sums up The Trip – the latest Winterbottom/Coogan (and now /Brydon) film. The faux-reality they’ve been cultivating since 24hourpartypeople wore a little thin on this one. Being locked in a car with Brydon and Coogan for any length of time is somewhat torturous. Still a decent way to spent 2 hours, but not one for the DVD library.

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