Brian and Charles

If themes about the importance of friendship, hope, and love land a bit on the nose, there’s no denying Brian and Charles takes an innovative approach to delivering them, even if — see above — the tack is brazenly metaphorical. Yet its distinctive charms are resonant enough to offset a slender story in what nevertheless amounts to a sweet and earnest, modern-day fable.

Brian and Charles themselves, meanwhile, make for an irresistible two-step in a delightful tale of friendship and loneliness, dramatised and written in beats that make one think of Wallace & Gromit without the clay.

An endlessly charming, funny, and delightfully lo-fi British comedy.

Earl and Hayward developed these characters first as a live stand-up show and then in a short film, and natural chemistry and cheeky rapport make “Brian and Charles” a laugh-out-loud comedy.

In its funny, implausible, and heartwarming depiction of a ramshackle platonic friendship between two oddballs, Brian and Charles creates a complete and immersive world – rainier than, but not that far removed from, Kyle Mooney's equally idiosyncratic and endearing fantasy Brigsby Bear.

Rather like its robotic protagonist, Brian and Charles is bolted together from misshapen parts that don’t constitute an altogether successful whole. But, anchored by a strong but understated performance from Earl, it’s awkward but ultimately endearing.

The original Brian and Charles short focused entirely on its titular characters, and it’s clear that was for the best.

Brian (David Earl) is a part-time handyman, part-time inventor in North Wales. He spends a lot of time creating gadgets that don’t interest people: a leather belt that holds three eggs, a standard leather tote bag with pinecones attached to the exterior, a flying grandfather clock that never gets off the ground, literally or figuratively. One soon suspects that Brian takes on these projects to soften, if not mask, the loneliness and solitude of his daily existence. Building on his past “successes,” Brian decides to build a robot complete with artificial intelligence. But Charles, the result of Brian’s efforts, is hardly the sexy, sleek machine we associate with science fiction films like “Ex Machina.” Charles (Chris Hayward) is made from junk and spare parts. He is seven feet tall. His arms aren’t the same length. His torso is a discarded washing machine. Like so many of Brian’s inventions, he doesn’t work until one fateful dark and rainy night (see what they did there?!) “it’s alive!” Over only a few days, Charles evolves. He reads a dictionary overnight and immediately has a full command of language. (“Bat Boy,” anyone?) He develops a curious fixation with cabbage. He dances in place when he simply can’t contain his excitement about this new world around him. Eventually, his inquisitiveness begins to expand Brian’s self-imposed boundaries. Charles also moves quickly from wide-eyed innocent to rebellious teen, with ear-splitting rock music accompaniment and the capacity to deliver a sense of jaded indifference when answering “whatever” to anything he finds uninteresting. This feature film is the product of a stand-up comedy routine and a 2017 short film written and performed by Earl and Hayward. In lengthening the material to 91 minutes, Earl and Hayward have added some fairly predictable plot elements – a love interest for Brian (an underused Louise Brealey from TV’s “Sherlock”) and a confrontation with the town bully that has potentially dire consequences for Charles. Director Jim Archer, in his feature debut, uses a faux documentary style that offers the viewer a series of jarring close-ups that lend a sense of intimacy to the proceedings accompanied by endearing, into-the-camera observations by Brian as he attempts to explain himself. Like any good film about artificial intelligence, Earl and Hayward use this platform to explore some larger life questions. Charles wonders whether the world ends at the tree at the edge of Brian’s property. When he sees birds flying overhead, he asks why they can apparently do as they wish, while Brian has established rigid rules to buffer Charles from a sometimes unkind world outside. But “Brian and Charles” is not fixated on addressing “big issues.” Instead, the film is clearly comfortable exploring pretty basic themes about the value of human relationships (the pillow fight involving Brian and Charles, with the Turtles’ “Happy Together” playing merrily in the background, is fabulous). The film also suggests, gently, that humans need occasional whimsy in their lives and that blindly irrational optimism is a virtue, not a fault. At the end of the day, those modest aspirations, skillfully fulfilled by “Brian and Charles,” are quite enough.

BRIAN AND CHARLES is a gentle and deeply silly movie that is surprisingly touching when it's all said and done. Coming in at a brisk 79 minutes, the movie-makers knew they had a slight story to tell, and haven't padded it. Tell your quirky story and get out. Yet, in this brief time, it says some pretty touching things about the need for friendship and connection, the impact of finding it, and also, strangely, reminds us that being a home-body who doesn't want to leave the local valley or a wanderer who wants to see the world are both valid and fulfilling choices, if freely chosen. Brian is a middle aged Welshman living in a gorgeous but harsh area of Wales. Rolling hills, sheep herds, quaint villages and a stunning river. But Brian lives alone is his ramshackle home and adjacent workshop. Unkempt and shy, Brian occupies his time mostly with his nusto inventions that never work. For example, he crafts a flying machine made with a bicycle that has a grandfather clock strapped to it so that he can fly over his village and shout out the time to anyone who needs it. It's a failure, of course. But his construction of it shows us how eccentric he is and how much he wants to be of use to his fellow man; the fellow man he struggles to connect with. Other constructs of his are equally unsuccessful, and of dubious need. One day, finds the head of a mannequin, and decides to build himself a robot. And stunningly (and without any explanation whatsoever), the robot works. This is Charles (or as Charles dubs himself "Charles Petrescu", surely the most random name a Welsh robot has ever given himself). A friendship of sorts forms between the two, but it's a bond that grows and evolves in gently surprising ways. And Charles is just the "social lubricant" that Brian needs to engage more in the world around him. Minor dramas ensue, and poor Charles has some unfortunate **** none of it is too taxing. This is not a film to get your heart rate up to much. But it never takes an easy path in telling its story. Charles can be extremely funny at times, but also a frustrating pain in the neck at others. And Brian can be a great "father figure" at times, and a churlish brat at others. It all has the air of a forgotten folk tale, yet there's real heart here. Although devoid of belly laughs (and not trying for any), I found myself smiling throughout almost all the film, chuckling aloud a few times, and as I said, being surprisingly touched by the conclusion of this film. And I must say that the "design" of Charles is remarkable. A mannequin head with hair attached, with a torso made of an old washing machine and wobbly but almost human looking legs, all wrapped in comfortable sweaters and brown tones. He's a sight-gag that never stops being amusing. Yet coupled with the outstanding voice performance of Chris Hayward, Charles Petrescu is a robot for the ages. BRIAN AND CHARLES is destined to be a minor cult movie at best, and probably, realistically, it will mostly be forgotten. That is a shame. This is a tiny, independent robot movie with heart that punches above its weight, and deserves a broader audience.

I enjoyed the quirkiness even if was a little bit one note for me. Charles was great...

Thought it would be better. Saw this actor as Kevin in "After Life". Some funny stuff but it got lazy with the cliche redneck family that just causes problems cause they are mean.

David Earl and Chris Hayward wrote and star in this comedy. Earl plays a lonely, eccentric Welsh inventor who creates a gangly robot (Hayward). This isn't a slick sci-fi model, but a funky mismatched creature made from scraps, including a washing machine torso. You can see quirky written all over the concept. Sadly, their writing didn't extend to funny. There's an attempt at heartwarming emotions that somewhat succeeds, but the overall result is more silly than comic. Besides the absurdity of the whole premise, the fact that the inventor is aware of the camera veers into docudrama category but never explores that angle. Just another attempt at oddity.