Trevor once again becomes a housesitter, this time in a palatial London penthouse over Christmas, and once again, as Trevor is shown around, the show winks at you. Chandelier? Priceless vase? “Don’t go in the media library”? Yes, we know where this is going. The baby has filled its nappy? Here we go… And yet, what makes Man vs Baby work so well is that Trevor pulls us in a completely different direction. Of course he’s still a klutz and he still makes absurdly bad decisions, but he is also wonderful with the baby, eternally optimistic and completely ingenious. We delight this time round not in Trevor’s misfortune, but in his ability to sidestep it.
The show has changed in other ways, too – nine 15-minute episodes have become four 25 minutes; where Man vs Bee was largely wordless, this is a more traditional comedy. There is still the cast of crack comic actors – Rosie Cavaliero, Ellie White and Ashley Jensen among them – and, naturally, there is still a segment involving dog poo. It may lack a few belly laughs, but it is thoroughly entertaining (and while you or I may not find Trevor being called “Mr Bin” particularly funny, my eight-year-old could hardly breathe).
While the show’s gentle “haves and have-nots” message feels a little superfluous, what works marvellously is Trevor. A man whom life has kicked in the face, who betrays not one ounce of bitterness. When he is faced with vulgar, ostentatious shows of wealth, he habitually responds with a warm, “Golly”. He is uncynical, and that makes Man vs Baby perfect family fare for Christmas. Who can resist a festive tale about the man no one wanted, who becomes the man everyone needs?
