He is a tall man, but also good-humoured. “I can’t swear because it’s The One Show,” he said, looking round the low-roofed camper. He went on The One Show on Monday evening to launch this, but was, instead, locked into the campervan, live on air. James was due, he thought, to present his show from various UK tourist resorts as part of a week-long Radio 1 “Summer Break” event. (No, it didn’t open the door – it led to another clue.) There were so many of them! And at least seven seemed to give the same answer: BLAKE. To say the clues were confusing would be to undersell the convolution. (Like a 1970s summer holiday planned by your dad.) All the places formed part of the puzzle, along with various pieces of music, past breakfast shows and the personal taste of fellow Radio 1 presenter Jordan North. It also meant that he could be driven to various places – wherever the clues seemed to lead: Blackpool Pleasure Beach, Chester zoo, Burnley FC’s Turf Moor ground. This time round he was locked in a campervan – a little less padded cell than previous occasions, but very sweaty, as James confirmed. It’s an escape room: a code will open the door, the listeners have to help him crack it. Each time, he has found himself in a small room where the door is locked. In February 2020, after the Brit awards, he was blindfolded and bundled into a car a year before that, he was asked politely if he wouldn’t mind putting on the blindfold. This happens fairly regularly to the genial host of the Radio 1 Breakfast Show. It’s especially brilliant - and millennial - to have that conversation not be within a group of slacker friends, but instead in the constantly commodifiable sphere of overexposed celebrity.Greg James has been kidnapped. It makes for a surprisingly relatable dynamic: A group of fractious friends, squabbling over whose version of cool is the most cool. The second expands the focus to his entourage, who are all over Diplo’s nonsense in their own unique ways. The two episodes released to critics, “The Beef” and “Ur Game Ain’t Shit,” offer glimpses into the ridiculous “problems” that Diplo faces: One is about his social media spat with Calvin Harris (not the real one - played by actor Tom Stourton) the other focuses on Diplo’s escalating delusions of grandeur in a baseball game in Santo Domingo, or as his hanger-on Jasper (Dillon Francis) refers to it, “the Dominic Republic.” In the premiere, “What Would Diplo Do?” focuses on getting to know Van Der Beek’s Diplo. Diplo, at least in Van Der Beek’s interpretation, is kind of an idiot - but a mostly well-intentioned one, with backsliding attempts at self-improvement that are largely stymied by ridiculously serious conversations about which emoji to use in today’s snapchat story. He throws himself into the absurdity of Diplo with self-effacing ease: swagging out in expensive athleisure, snapping a shirtless selfie for “the ‘gram,” and bouncing with restless energy behind his soundboards. But that the DJ would examine and deflate his own persona is engaging, funny stuff it’s made 10 times more entertaining by the alarming, charismatic ease with which Van Der Beek slips into the role.įor many viewers, Van Der Beek’s talents - and apparent self-awareness - will be a welcome surprise. (A short released in 2016 paved the way for a full series order.) Diplo doesn’t come off too well he’s arguably brilliant, but also self-aggrandizing, socially clueless, and as impulsive as a toddler. In a satirical, quasi-biographical take on his own life, Diplo is executive producing a comedy where James Van Der Beek plays - mocks, endears, and humanizes - the DJ himself. But if posing with gold teeth, naming an album “Random White Dude Be Everywhere,” and getting schooled by Lorde about dicks is the edge of self-parody, “What Would Diplo Do?” - Viceland’s first scripted series - is diving into the deep end.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |