In a scene from Netflix’s Man vs Bee , Trevor played by Rowan Atkinson tries to put out a fire by keeping it under a faucet that works using sense. Chaotically, he dances his arms every which and more but the tap simply wouldn’t turn on. It’s the kind of traditional incompetence that Atkinson eulogised through his much revered role as Dr Bean. To which effect, Man vs Bee could just have been called Man vs Bean, because this is Atkinson as his slapstick best, reprising the buffoonish mannerisms of the character that endeared him to a generation. Man vs Bee delivers on everything you’d like from Bean spinoff. It’s sprightly, hilarious and makes Atkinson the silly centre of a narrative that is simply him and a million accidents waiting for him. The only flaw here is that this narrative has been stretched into a series for no reason at all. Man vs Bee begins with Trevor arriving at the posh house of the clients he is about to housesit. They are rich, classy and a tad obnoxious about it. Trevor on the other hand, in true Atkinson vein is a middle-aged charlatan without a job, living away from family and with no skills whatsoever. When asked if he has any experience in the job, he replies, plainly “I did own a house. So this is familiar territory”. Atkinson’s acting has always been the sum of his face and the twisty functionality of his body. Here he applies both to perfection. He ruins art, sets places on fire, has a fisticuff with the pet dog and is ultimately hounded by a determined bee (hence the name). It’s hard to say what’s new here. Except there might be. Mr Bean , while unintelligent in his ways always represented man’s discomfort with technological evolution, the shear pace of it. This was a man, always on the back foot, perpetually dazed by how quickly things were changing around him. His ill-fated encounters with the world are not just an illustration of his ineptitude but also the frightening pace with which things change if you do not, cling onto them for dear life. It’s what happens to you when you choose to sit outside the race. Some of that underexplored real-world commentary shines in this late Bean avatar (though they won’t call it that). At one point the house owner, a cocky white man, tries to explain Trevor the functioning of each remote. They are neatly lined up on a table, like an endless row of alternatives. Too cumbersome to the simple mind of years past. In another sequence Trevor accidentally burns up the manual that was to guide him through the overindulgent security system of the house. It’s a sign perhaps, of just how complicated life has become with its little settings and assurances. Maybe there is such a thing as too self-aware. Then there are sequences that are simply recreation of the actor’s older work, but hasn’t lost any of its charm still. After a police officer knocks door, Trevor tries to pretend he doesn’t have a bee inside his pants. From gyrating hilariously to rubbing the edge of the door, the silliness of it all is dry and dated, but still feels charming. Atkinson has aged significantly but has always presented himself like an old man out of touch with a young world. It’s probably what gives him, and his Bean persona, this incredible shelf life. It can be endearing without overtly being itself. The things that do not work in this series is the fact that it had to be a series for some reason. These are 19-20 min episodes, but they could have been a breezy 90 min run-through across the many accidents we expect Atkinson to acquire. There is an attempt here to create, perhaps for the first time, a pathological origin story for Atkinson’s clumsiness – a family, an expectant daughter, the burdens of a family – but it doesn’t quite register amidst the expected theatrics from an actor who has mastered the art of linearity. He is Bean in most things he does, and yet never feels too old for it. Here he uses the gimmick of pretending to freeze over a video call to get out of jail in a sticky conversation. In fact, his return to our screens in a lesson in doing slapstick but classy, elegant way. What Man vs Bee adds to the world of Bean we are all familiar with is that Atkinson gets to speak here. He gets to have a family, a background and maybe a nudge at empathy that his previous roles have distanced him from. Ultimately, though, Trevor is no more than a talking, groaning Bean as we have always known and loved him. And that isn’t a bad thing. In fact, it is one of the best things to arrive on streaming this year. We could all use a laugh, and evidently, we could all use more of Mr Bean. The author writes on art and culture, cinema, books, and everything in between. Views expressed are personal. Read all the Latest News , Trending News , Cricket News , Bollywood News , India News and Entertainment News here. Follow us on Facebook , Twitter and Instagram .