The Man Who Thought he Knew Too Much review - AI Edition

 DISCLAIMER: MOST OF THIS POST WAS WRITTEN BY AI. ALL BITS I WROTE ARE IN NORMAL TEXT; ALL AI COPY IS ITALICISED.

I originally wanted to ask ChatGPT to do a review in my style so we could see how laughingly inaccurate it was, but when I did, it actually wrote quite a decent review, and although it lacked the some of my trademark humour™

You can't trademark common English words - Ed.

See? Although it lacked the some of my trademark humour I use in my posts, you could see the influence there.

But first, I'll show you ChatGPT's first attempt. Prompt: Write a review of the man who thought he knew too much in the style of The View From Lower Down

ChatGPT:

Review of The Man Who Thought He Knew Too Much
As Seen from the Ground Up

In the quiet tradition of storytelling that tends to slip underfoot rather than stride boldly across the stage, The Man Who Thought He Knew Too Much offers up an underwhelming protagonist whose self-assurance becomes his unraveling. It’s the story of Hubert Humble—though "story" might be too generous a word for what essentially feels like a long afternoon spent listening to someone who doesn't realize you’re only nodding politely.

Humble is the type of man who clings to certainties, especially ones nobody else cares much to confirm or deny. He fancies himself a kind of low-rent Sherlock Holmes, though without the charm, insight, or real-world usefulness. His “brilliant deductions” are often little more than awkward guesses. That’s perhaps the most relatable thing about Humble—he's no expert, but he just doesn't know it. Who among us hasn’t confidently walked down a wrong path only to double back a few steps with a sheepish grin?

The charm of the novel, if it can be called that, lies in its details from the ground level. Humble’s London isn’t the glamour of fog-draped alleys and mysterious strangers. It’s damp socks from an unnoticed puddle, a jacket snagged on the corner of a park bench, and stale sandwiches wrapped too tightly. The author paints this version of the city well, not as a backdrop but as a main character that’s as unimpressed by Hubert as the people around him.

Still, there’s something about watching a man who’s so confidently lost in his own story that it almost feels right to root for him, even if his success would ultimately mean little to the world. Hubert's charm, if you stretch the word, is that he's haplessly relatable. He doesn’t dazzle, but he persists, and in a strange way, that persistence seems to whisper the question: maybe it’s enough just to try? For those who live in their own heads a bit too much, who’ve taken on lives that are smaller and quieter than they'd hoped for, Hubert Humble offers a curious mirror. He is, for better or worse, the little man on the street in all of us—awkward, slightly bumbling, but somehow still endearing in his determination to solve the world’s tiniest mysteries.

In the end, The Man Who Thought He Knew Too Much won’t shatter any reader’s worldview. But from the small perspective, it’s not really supposed to. It’s a gentle reminder that life doesn’t have to be grand to be a story worth telling—especially when told from the bottom up.

My first clue that something was up was the name of the main character, Herbert Humble. Apparently ChatGPT must have seen one of the earlier previews because in my version he was called Roger Clement.

However, after noticing that it was actually talking about a novel, not a play, and that it was using the style of As Seen from the Ground Up, I decided to try refining my prompt. Prompt 2: Write a review of the play the man who thought he knew too much in the style of the blog The View From Lower Down

ChatGPT:

There’s a special kind of joy in watching a theater production that knows exactly what it is and revels in it with unashamed glee. That’s what I felt last night at "The Man Who Thought He Knew Too Much"—a fast-paced, tongue-in-cheek thriller that sprints, jumps, and twists with a charisma that pulls you along whether you like it or not. This isn’t a play that asks you to sit politely and appreciate; it practically grabs you by the hand, drags you into the action, and says, “Hold on, we’re going for a ride.”

First, let’s talk about the story—or should I say, the stories? A delightful mishmash of Hitchcock, film noir, and absurdist comedy, the play follows Roger Clement, a well-dressed man with an ordinary (or so he thinks) life. When he unwittingly gets tangled up in a series of chaotic events—from international intrigue to mistaken identities—he finds himself constantly running, hiding, and guessing who’s after him next. All the classic tropes are here: shadowy figures in trench coats, foreign accents, love interests, and of course, plenty of chase scenes. And though we’ve seen this formula before, the creators cleverly embrace and amplify it, playing up each plot twist with an almost comic exuberance that makes you forget you already know the ending.

This production relies on a quartet of versatile, wildly talented actors who perform rapid-fire character changes that make the head spin. One moment, they're playing sinister spies; the next, they’re quirky locals or bumbling police officers, each transformation marked with exaggerated accents and physicality. The ensemble acts like a well-oiled machine—moving in perfect sync, yet with a playful, loose quality that makes it all feel spontaneous. You can tell they’re enjoying themselves as much as we are, and that energy is contagious.

Special shoutout to the direction here, which keeps everything tightly paced but never overly polished. This feels like a show that wants to look like it could go off the rails at any moment, like an indie film that barely had the budget to wrap but somehow pulled off a cult classic. Every bit of stagecraft is used to its fullest: props appear and disappear as if by magic, lighting and sound work hand-in-glove to create mood, and, though it sounds impossible, the staging allows us to leap through locations across Europe without once feeling lost. It’s like a kinetic visual puzzle that plays tricks on the audience’s sense of place and time.

As much as it’s a play about spies and mistaken identities, it’s also a play about, well, us—people who think they have it all figured out, right up until everything spins wildly out of control. The title The Man Who Thought He Knew Too Much is both the story and the punchline. And who among us hasn’t felt like Roger Clement, cluelessly certain one moment, only to stumble helplessly the next?

The humor is clever but not pretentious; it has its share of witty asides but also plenty of moments that aim for the gut-laugh. Yes, it’s silly, but it’s skillfully silly. This is the kind of play you don’t overthink, you just sit back and enjoy. And there’s something so refreshing in that—how often does theater let us simply have fun?

So, would I recommend The Man Who Thought He Knew Too Much? Absolutely. Go with friends who like a bit of madcap fun. Or go with anyone who needs to escape the daily grind for an hour or two. Because at the end of the day, it’s a story about a man who thought he knew more than he did—and a reminder that, often, a little bit of absurdity is exactly what we need.

So that's what fake me thought. Want to know what real me thought? Click here to find out.