To introduce a group of Czech university students to British humour, I showed them a selection of classic comedies. The lineup included Peep Show, Nathan Barley, Men Behaving Badly, The Office, Alan Partridge, Little Britain, Only Fools & Horses, and Fawlty Towers. After viewing, they completed a questionnaire, and their responses made me reconsider the comedies I grew up with from a fresh perspective.

Which example of British humour did you most enjoy?

Over half the students favoured Little Britain. I wasn’t surprised — sketch shows are easier for foreign audiences as if they don’t understand one joke, another soon follows. The slapstick humour, exaggerated characters, and catchphrases make it accessible, even without cultural context.

Fawlty Towers came in second, which did surprise me given its age. But again, its slapstick and cartoonish characterisation likely made it appealing.

The third most popular show was The American Office. This irritated me slightly, as I had only included it for comparison. Still, I can see why they enjoyed it; American humour tends to be bigger, bolder, and, dare I say it, more obvious.

Which of the comedies did you least enjoy?

More than half the students picked Alan Partridge, describing it as “boring” and the protagonist as an “idiot.” I can understand their reaction; Alan Partridge is a particular kind of British fool — one you might need to be British to truly appreciate.

Peep Show also received a lot of criticism, which surprised me. But much of its humour comes from internal monologues, which could be confusing if English isn’t your first language.

Many found The Office dull because “nothing was happening.” I guess the subtlety of British humour and the focus on everyday minutiae can feel tedious to those more accustomed to exaggerated scenarios (which American TV does so well).

Did anything about these comedies surprise you?

The most common response was: It’s surprising that boring comedies we do not find funny are top-rated in Britain. I had assumed more overlap between Czech and British humour, but this experiment reminded me how deeply comedy is rooted in culture. No matter how well you know another country, you’ll never experience its humour the way a native does.

How is Czech humour different from British humour?

Unfortunately, most responses were vague. Seventy percent said there were no similarities whatsoever. Others mentioned universal themes like family, work, and relationships, which apply to comedies worldwide.

How do Czech and British comedies differ?

Several students commented that Czech shows have smaller budgets and weaker acting. Others noted that Czech comedies are family-friendly and less diverse in style, which makes sense given Britain’s larger entertainment industry and global reach.

Some students observed that Czech comedies focus on the extraordinary and feature more action. This surprised me, as many Czech comedies I’ve seen are set in small villages where very little happens.

What are the main components of British humour?

Ninety percent of students mentioned cringeworthy situations, awkwardness, and embarrassment. This stems from the British tendency to repress emotions in the name of politeness. The humour lies in the gap between how characters want to act and the constraints of etiquette.

Another common response was making fun of other countries. British comedies frequently use national stereotypes, revealing a complicated relationship with political correctness. I hadn’t consciously noticed this before, but seeing these shows through the students’ eyes made me realise how deeply embedded it is.

Concluding thoughts

Ironically, this exercise may have taught me more about British humour than it taught the students. It forced me to see familiar comedies through a new lens and question why I find them funny. We assume that humour transcends borders, but in reality, it is shaped by cultural references, social norms, and national identity. What makes one audience laugh might leave another indifferent.

While the students may not have connected with British humour in the way I had hoped, their reactions gave me a deeper appreciation of how comedy is both a mirror and a barrier, reflecting our own world back at us while keeping outsiders at arm’s length. Perhaps true cultural understanding begins when we acknowledge that even something as seemingly simple as a joke is never truly universal.