Even if you don’t have a kid at home, at some point in your life you’ve likely been responsible for someone or something, be it a puppy, a younger sibling, a class hamster. We’ve all had our lives turned upside-down or at least temporarily rearranged in service to another. It can change you, force you out of your comfort zone, cause you to look inward as others depend on you.
After welcoming a new member of his household, the life of lonely tinkerer Brian (British comic David Earl) will never be the same. He’s built Charles, a robot with a head that looks like a Jim Broadbent bust. His body is a washing machine, he sounds like a game of Pong, and he has an appetite for cabbage. Brian and Charles, the feature debut from British television vet Jim Archer, has to be one of the most adorable Frankenstein stories ever told, a film with the dry wit of a Flight of the Conchords episode and the dignified heart of an Aardman cartoon. Funny enough, Brian is a bit like Wallace of Wallace and Gromit, just socially awkward and desperate for companionship. Gromit and Charles couldn’t be further apart, however, with the latter evolving throughout the film — from inquisitive and toddler-like to sassy, like a rebellious teenager who wants to leave the house.
The comedic moments largely stem from fish-out-of-water situations that Charles finds himself in — if you’ve ever wanted to see a large British android dance in self-made hula garb, this is the movie for you. Archer’s success comes not only from digging into the situation’s inherent humor, but also exploring the way Charles forces Brian out of his shell. A local lady named Hazel (Sherlock alum Louise Brealey) also catches Brian’s eye and helps fill in the areas of companionship that a giant teenage robot son can’t. Brian and Charles make for a delightfully odd couple, but the former learns quickly about the joys and pains of being a dad.
Charles, like many who grew up in a small town, has dreams of seeing the world. We’re never given much information as to how Brian somehow mastered the complexities of artificial intelligence in his homey little tinkering basement, but that’s part of the charm. However he’s managed it, the inventor has brought to life a sweet being who has aims to travel the globe, which conflicts directly with Brian’s concerns regarding the real world. The worry is heightened by a local family of ne’er-do-wells who want to kidnap Charles and make him some sort of butler or plaything.
How do you balance a caretaker’s instincts with the desire to let your progeny spread their wings and be their own person? It’s a common conflict, explored here in a fresh way, and that’s part of why Brian and Charles works so well. You feel the film’s heart growing as antics fall to the wayside and the friction between Brian’s expectations and Charles’ hopes mounts. The film never loses sight of how silly Charles looks, or its own generally ridiculous premise, but the sincerity of the approach keeps the tone buoyant and empathetic. This film just wouldn’t work if there was a hint of snark in the material.
In the end, both Brian and Charles learn a lot about the deep connection between parents and children, what they owe each other and what they mean to each other. Archer’s film takes itself just seriously enough to blend its outlandish premise with real-world emotional dynamics. Grab a fresh cabbage and someone you love, and visit the world of Brian and Charles. It’s an often hilarious and unexpectedly poignant film about familial bonds and how they can change us in lovely and surprising ways.
