You owe me twenty quid: Tyres in Spaced

15 May 2020

Last week Becca Harrison tweeted about re-watching the turn-of-the-millennium Channel 4 sitcom, Spaced, and some of its most quotable lines (concerning jaffa cakes in coat pockets) and imitable actions (mimed shoot out). Being an Ulsterperson, my fondness for the show often homes in on Tyres played by Belfast-born, Holywood-bred actor Michael Smiley (if you're a Ben Wheatley fan, you ought to recognise him). This train of thought, not for the first time, got me thinking about the significance of Tyres.

When Spaced first aired in September 1999, Northern Ireland was a year-and-a-half into its fragile official peacetime following (and not quite yet distinct from) the prior thirty years of conflict. I was in my mid-teens and it was only when I reached my early and mid-twenties that I fully understood the characters in the show, especially the oddities of being a grown-up but feeling not as mature as your age suggested, of feeling the ageing process but still being drawn to 'young' things, and, in particular, feeling stagnant and directionless when folk younger and older than you seemed to have it all sussed. 

In 1999 and 2001 when each series of the show aired, it was a tonic to witness the inclusion of a Northern Irish character who was neither a psychopathic wife-beater (à la Jim McDonald in Corrie) nor an even more psychopathic paramilitary, or indeed both (see just about every media work from the time with Northern Irish characters). While Tyres is an utter looper with a demeanour that erratically switches from dead-on pal to an aggressively judgemental critic to whom twenty quid is always owed by Tim (Simon Pegg), he's got a lot more depth to him than his rave-loving bicycle courier exterior would alone suggest.

Given that Smiley flat-shared with Simon Pegg and Nick Frost (Mike) in the 1990s, and that Smiley had previously worked as both a bicycle courier and an acid house DJ, the character of Tyres likely wrote himself. Any deeper readings of him may be happy accidents rather than the programme-makers' intentions beyond having a wild-card who'd motivate the core gang towards shenanigans that facilitate their personal development. In the series 1 'Epiphanies' episode, this is aided further by recreational drug use and clubbing.

To understand better how Tyres makes the stars align for the Spaced gang, we need to look at his context and counter-cultural impulse. Assuming Tyres is the same age as Smiley, and Tyres's rants in the two episodes in which he appears imply he is a generation older than Tim and Daisy (then, Jessica Stevenson), he was a child as the conflict emerged in the 1960s, a teen in the late-1970s as punk exploded, and in his early twenties when punk fizzled out around 1982 or so. By the end of the 80s, a new and larger subculture had arrived, and boy was it needed, as was understood by the very paramilitaries who pushed the drugs. There's always a caveat or two; regular ecstasy use also has long-term neurological effects from the gradual depletion of serotonin, explaining Tyres's lack of short-term memory and breakneck mood swings. 

Emerging in Chicago, acid house/house music/techno/electronica was born out of a desire for escape, and combining forces with the new happy drug of ecstasy, it quickly spread around Europe. It really took off in Belfast, Bangor and Portrush, embraced as a euphoric oasis for youth saying no to the violence around them. It was exciting and new and away from the violence that was saturating the streets and TV screens simultaneously. It was an outlet for creative expression, and even more than the more aggressive punk before it, it was accompanied by distinctive clothing and hairstyles and became an inclusive haven for the weird and wonderful of a changing society. A movement was starting, and even when pushed underground by conservative older generations, it never really went away. And what's more, it brought working-class folk from across the divide together. One divide it did have was between the studenty Art College rave scene and that which grew from the Ulster Hall. From all of this we have the origins of Tyres O'Flaherty.

Tyres lives life at a fast pace, darting around London as a hard-working, hard-playing courier. The filming and editing decisions in the show directed by Edgar Wright demonstrate his fidgety, never-sit-still, rapidly oscillating humour. Tyres's quick-fire speech and the deliberate discontinuity in his positioning (blocking) in a scene signal someone who gives no time to dwell on things, yet what he says shows knowledge of the world, society and ideologies around him grounded in his street smarts. He displays awareness of (if disregard for) gender politics and possesses strong feelings about the hard graft of working-class taxpayers supporting middle-class dole surfers, as shown in a particular tirade at Daisy: 
 

'don't come yer postfeminist art school bollocks wi' me, Sunflaar, if that's yer real friggin' name. I work for a livin'; whadda you do?'

Indeed, it seems to be Tyres's cajoling of Daisy and Tim that sees them eventually really work at their creative outputs and begin to develop their respective careers in writing and illustration. Repeatedly referring to them as air-quote 'friends' is another slow burn in their relationship that they only begin to recognise towards the close of the final episode.

Especially now that I've lived in England for a few years, I appreciate Tyres's foresight, energy and perceived abruptness all the more. I find the English take us Ulster folk to be much more aggressive in our conduct than we intend. We're not behind the door in telling it how it is, whereas the English will often do themselves an injury rather than call something out. Tyres may seem judgemental, but his challenges to Tim and Daisy work on them over time and they take their lives in hand to improve their personal and professional situations. And his fairy godfather actions don't stop with Tim and Daisy; Brian (Mark Heap) and Mike embrace their true selves and allow those true selves to be embraced by others in the nightclub. After 'Epiphanies', they continue to grow and be more assertive, each entering a new phase of life that serves them well in series 2.

Tyres's appearance in the series 2 episode 'Help' will eventually solidify those shifts in everyone. With his and Mike's help, Tim retrieves a potentially damaging caricature from his drawing portfolio and in the process meets Sophie. His exciting relationship with Sophie at first strains his friendship with Daisy, but ultimately reinstates his confidence and trust and reopens his access to his romantic side that has been closed to him due to heartbreak and betrayal. It is also Tyres's sudden and disruptive arrival at the flat beforehand that leads to Daisy's snap decision to slip the caricature Tim had removed back into his portfolio. Although this causes a rift between them, it ultimately shows them their need to communicate with each other properly (i.e. Tim needs to include Daisy rather than shut her out) and they begin to understand each other at a deeper level.

Tyres's personality is also accurately well-rounded. When he returns in 'Help', he has a go at Tim for only hearing from him when he wants something, i.e. a lend of twenty quid or to courier for him:

'Oh I see. You don't call me for weeks and all of a sudden you want a favour? That's nice, that is. D'y'know the last time I seen you? You told me you wished I was yer da and ya hugged me for the entire length of the Acid Tweekin' Funk mix of Josh Wink's "Higher State of Consciousness" and nai ya want me to ferry aroun' yer "art" fer ya?!'

Which Tyres of course gladly does for a scared Tim because, aggressive though he may seem, Tyres is fiercely loyal to his friends and will always be there for them, including always calling out their bullshit, even if their relationship with him is more distant.

More than the embarrassing and frustrating caricature of the Norn Irish we're unfortunately used to seeing elsewhere, Tyres brings an energetic storm of conflict resolution, a higher state of consciousness, and a release of deep, warm, genuine feeling with each of his explosive appearances. Upon his arrival in 'Epiphanies' we realise something fundamental had been missing, and on his fitting exit throwing shapes at the church of dance that is a bleeping pelican crossing over the closing credits of 'Help', we know his work is done and he is returned to his genie's lamp where all the world's a rave floor. 

What I hope the English can learn from Tyres is that when we come across as being angry or mean, unless they're strangers and people needing help, we don't bother going to the effort of being nice to people we care about. We seem harsh because, with each other - and as is demonstrated in Spaced - it stops you moping and motivates you to do something. There's too much nonsense in the world and in politics, so you just have to get on with it yourself. In the contested region's 98 years, the people living there have certainly had to get on with life no matter what's been thrown at them. The humour is terse and many people like to keep on the move, which makes things difficult lately, but on they carry. Be kind to your nearest Tyres.





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