I can't remember life without Absolutely Fabulous. The BBC series has taught me vital lessons. For example: the only French you need to survive is "La Croix"; always refer to Eddie when checking if a sentence ends "sweetie", "darling" or "sweetie darling"; and, if you're a has-been in real life, it's okay if you play a has-been on Ab Fab (see Lulu, Minnie Driver, etc). My appreciation of it has matured since I was a young'un but it remains a point-and-laugh at Eddie and Patsy affair. "Look at those outfits...Isn't that Bubble odd...Oh Saffron, so dull but...HAHAHA". I have so much love for Ab Fab that Edina merely has to say the word "Titicaca" and I'm snorting cava.
Imagine then my response upon reading that Jennifer Saunders is not only finishing work on three new episodes, she is writing Absolutely Fabulous: The Movie. Crack open the Veuve? Finish installing the jacuzzi? Start chain-smoking so furiously there'll be steam coming out of every orifice? No! I was as exasperated as Patsy in series two recalling her reaction to Eddie's pregnancy. "Abort, abort! Bring me...A KNITTING NEEDLE," I shriek.
I've often wished there were Ab Fab scenes I'd never seen before. I've similarly often prayed for more than 12 Fawlty Towers episodes, extra Blackadder, or repeats of Birds Of A Feather on terrestrial TV. But the beauty of such fantasies lies in their impossible nature. I don't really want more. I was thinking out loud when I set up those Bring Back Ab Fab Facebook groups. Honest. I'm biased towards Eddie and Pats; I treat them as members of my family. I know they should be far funnier than they are. There aren't colonics thorough enough to eradicate the potential disastrous truth a cinematic outing may uncover.
Jennifer's appearance on Graham Norton last Friday has since escalated matters to Def-Con 4: The Clip, previewing the Christmas episodes making me anxious for the film script that lies ahead. I do what any normal fan would do; I try to contact Jennifer Saunders. I fire off an email to firstname.lastname@example.org to no avail. Now I resort to the power of Huffington. Fellow sweetie darlings, I ask for your help...
Dear Jennifer sweetie darling/darling sweetie,
Hope this finds you well. Let me start by saying, Hi sweetheart. Evie loves you.
So darling, I hear you're writing an Ab Fab movie. GREAT! Let me flow with you for a moment. Let's bounce some ideas around. Obviously we want it to be funny, eh sweetie?
Let's imagine the point of this movie now, darling. The angle. Consider this, sweetheart: It's the recession. That awful thing making us more guilty when we spend spend spend. Eddie and Patsy are in a bad place because Eddie doesn't understand money. She knows how it works to buy Missoni scarves for wrapping around the luggage on the trip to France, but she doesn't understand the economy darling. Saffy tried to explain it on the afternoon that Eddie was salvaging the cocaine she hid in the salt cellar.
Anyway sweetie, Eddie and Patsy love the recession at first because everything is so reduced, the sales are permanently on at Harvey Nics...But then Eddie loses the magazine, she's made Bubble redundant (Bubble hasn't learned that word yet so she's still hanging around), Saffy makes Eddie and Patsy sell their things and bans Eddie's Buddhist Dreams Interpreter so they can afford to live in Holland Park.
Think about it darling; Eddie and Patsy getting a crash navigation course around Primark without a personal shopper! And here's the brilliant part...While sorting through the old items they have to sell, the girls remember everything that's happened over the years. Yes, despite the damage through excessive drug use they still have memories, darling. Which means, you can write all the best scenes of previous episodes into the movie. It can be a series of fabulous flashbacks; a montage, sweetie! You don't need to write many new bits because we're going to use all the old bits. It's vintage, darling. VINTAGE!!!
I don't want to give too much away now, Jenny sweetie. Let me know what you think...
Mwah mwah sweetheart, mwah mwah
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