Pranksters' ball

"We once spent two hours in Finland saying nothing but ‘begerk’,” says Simon Pegg.

“It became like a masterly game of chess,” adds Nick Frost. “He’d say ‘begerk’, then I’d think about it and eventually say ‘begerk’ back.”
“Yeah, our respective partners never know what the hell is going on,” explains Pegg. “They’ll ask what we were talking about on the phone and we’ll just have talked rubbish for hours.”
Oh well. There does appear to be treasure in their particular landfill. Since they first graced our screens in the cult comedy Spaced, Messrs. Pegg and Frost have raised the art of saying nothing at all really to a level barely anticipated by Lewis Carroll’s nonsense poetry. A pleasing gallimaufry of pastiche, stoner speech rhythms and pet obsessions, Spaced would act as a voice in the wilderness for the splendid 2004 post-Romero horror-comedy Shaun Of The Dead.
“People just seemed to get it,” says Simon. “We live in a very pop-literate universe now. Everybody sits around talking nostalgically and surreally about TV shows and movies and music. Everybody reenacts little bits for their mates and expands on them. We never explained things in Shaun or Spaced. We just assumed that most people would know what we were talking about. Because it’s not even like we know really.”
Even working from the assumption that we all live in a comfy postmodern twilight, most were surprised and delighted by the staggering success of Shaun Of The Dead. By relocating zombie movie conventions to a London setting, Shaun would go down a storm in Britain and reach number five at the US box office. Tarantino was vocal champion. So too Robert Rodríguez. Even George Romero was blown away. The veteran director would later cast Simon as a snarling wraith in Land Of The Dead. A role in Mission Impossible 3 would follow. Who knew it could be so easy to crack the US market?
“I think Americans probably liked Shaun because it was so English,” says Simon. “I mean we deliberately didn’t have shots of the London Eye or double decker buses. We didn’t want really obvious signifiers. It was just a bunch of tossers who hang around the pub. People relate to tossers and pubs.”
Hot Fuzz, which does for the Michael Bay oeuvre what Shaun did for the Living Dead trilogy (as was) looks set to repeat the trick. Where Shaun was a simple pleasure, however, Hot Fuzz is rather more ambitiously intertextual. Taking cues from such seemingly incongruous films as The Wicker Man and A Better Tomorrow 2, the screenplay, once again penned by star Simon and director Edgar Wright, forms a riotous celebration of on screen lawmen.
“It’s all about cops,” explains Simon. “If you watch out for them even the place names are different cop references. And if you couldn’t be bothered that’s fine too.” Happily, even the lazy-minded can enjoy the plot. Simon plays Sergeant Nicholas Angel, a London supercop who is transferred to a creepy small town at the behest of jealous superiors. When he’s paired with a dimwit partner (Frost, Pegg’s longtime best mate and Shaun co-star) they soon form a Woo-ian homoerotic bond and, drawing inspiration from such trash classics as Bad Boys 2 and Point Break, they set about solving a series of bizarre murders in mock-heroic fashion. Striking a similar tone to Team America: World Police, the film indicates both a sincere and insincere appreciation of the pioneering work of Simpson and Bruckhiemer and the like.
“Oh yeah,” nods Simon.”You have to love that really excessive, absurd Michael Bay school of filmmaking. And Point Break is even more interesting because it’s directed by a woman (Kathryn Bigelow). That moment when Keanu Reeves can’t shoot Patrick Swayze. Classic.”
That and many other gayly coded moments find new comic expression in Hot Fuzz. Are long time collaborators Simon and Nick trying to work something out?
“Yeah,” says Simon. “It’s hard for straight men to love other men.”
“That’s right,” continues Nick. “It’s much easier for girls to put spend an evening together with their hair in curlers painting each others’ toenails than it is for us.”
To prevent the enterprise becoming too muliebrious, the new film works in plenty of boy’s own action. Cars turn upside down in mid-air. Montages pass by at a speed usually reserved for industrial metal videos. Most excitingly, in a village full of such ridiculously evil characters as Timothy Dalton’s supermarket owner, a huge arsenal of Rambo-approved weaponry is soon called for and a mighty Mexican stand off ensues before the final credits roll.
“That was brilliant,” recalls Simon. “I mean, when I was writing it I was only thinking about what might be cool or funny. I wasn’t playing the character. That was for the future me to do. Then you get to shooting and you realise you’re an action hero.”
Still, not too many action heroes take breaks for Cornettos. Away from the high-octane antics much of the film’s charm, as with Shaun, is found in the juxtaposition between Hollywood mores and English ordinariness. In Sandford, the fictionalised West Country village where Hot Fuzz is set, it really is always murder at the vicarage. Or at the am-dram society. Or during tidy towns committee meetings.
“Edgar and I are from Gloucester,” says Simon.”It’s only a city because it has a cathedral. So we’re used to small towns. From there it’s a matter of working out what Will Smith would do on the beat there.”
“It’s a joyous romp,” adds Nick.
“It’s the greatest story ever told,” says Simon.
“If you enjoy watching it half as much as we enjoyed making it...”
And they’re off again...
Hot Fuzz is released February 16.