Mackenzie Crook's latest comedy, Small Prophets, is an unmissable treat that showcases the creator's signature whimsy and wit. This time around, Crook takes his Detectorists roots and applies them to a phantasmagorical new world of urban ordinary. What unfolds is nothing short of pure delight.
Meet Michael (Pearce Quigley), our gentle hero living in a semi-detached at the dead end of a south Manchester cul-de-sac. This lanky, long-bearded everyman's daily routine consists of waking up to strange dreams about birds, driving his battered Ford Capri to work, and trudging back home to an empty silence that echoes with Clea's absence. The mysterious disappearance of his girlfriend seven years ago has left Michael on a quest to reconnect with the world around him.
This premise alone could have led to a bleak, sadcom, but Crook, ever the master of wonder beneath the surface, takes us on a wondrous journey. What begins as an exploration of Michael's eccentricities – from wind-ups in the workplace to marble runs at home – gradually reveals itself to be something greater.
The casting is nothing short of phenomenal. Pearce Quigley shines as Michael, bringing just the right amount of vulnerability and charm to his role. Lauren Patel steals every scene as Kacey, a platonic friendship that blossoms into something profound. And then there's Michael Palin as Brian, Clea's dad, who proves once again why he remains an acting legend.
The supporting cast is equally delightful, with standout performances from Jon Pointing as the hapless Clive and Crook himself as Gordon, the ineffectual but well-meaning boss. Every character adds a new layer of depth to this rich tapestry, weaving their stories together into a cohesive whole that defies predictability.
The real magic happens when Kacey's dream is shared with Michael, setting in motion a chain of events that will leave even the most seasoned viewer gasping for air. What unfolds is nothing short of impossible yet perfectly rational – a testament to Crook's skill as a storyteller.
Small Prophets may hold a message or two, but its true purpose lies in reminding us of the wondrous things still at our fingertips. This is British telly at its best: a reminder that even in a world that can seem dull and grey, magic remains.
If you haven't already, do yourself a favour and watch Small Prophets on BBC Two or iPlayer. Trust me, it's an experience that will leave you beaming with wonder.
Meet Michael (Pearce Quigley), our gentle hero living in a semi-detached at the dead end of a south Manchester cul-de-sac. This lanky, long-bearded everyman's daily routine consists of waking up to strange dreams about birds, driving his battered Ford Capri to work, and trudging back home to an empty silence that echoes with Clea's absence. The mysterious disappearance of his girlfriend seven years ago has left Michael on a quest to reconnect with the world around him.
This premise alone could have led to a bleak, sadcom, but Crook, ever the master of wonder beneath the surface, takes us on a wondrous journey. What begins as an exploration of Michael's eccentricities – from wind-ups in the workplace to marble runs at home – gradually reveals itself to be something greater.
The casting is nothing short of phenomenal. Pearce Quigley shines as Michael, bringing just the right amount of vulnerability and charm to his role. Lauren Patel steals every scene as Kacey, a platonic friendship that blossoms into something profound. And then there's Michael Palin as Brian, Clea's dad, who proves once again why he remains an acting legend.
The supporting cast is equally delightful, with standout performances from Jon Pointing as the hapless Clive and Crook himself as Gordon, the ineffectual but well-meaning boss. Every character adds a new layer of depth to this rich tapestry, weaving their stories together into a cohesive whole that defies predictability.
The real magic happens when Kacey's dream is shared with Michael, setting in motion a chain of events that will leave even the most seasoned viewer gasping for air. What unfolds is nothing short of impossible yet perfectly rational – a testament to Crook's skill as a storyteller.
Small Prophets may hold a message or two, but its true purpose lies in reminding us of the wondrous things still at our fingertips. This is British telly at its best: a reminder that even in a world that can seem dull and grey, magic remains.
If you haven't already, do yourself a favour and watch Small Prophets on BBC Two or iPlayer. Trust me, it's an experience that will leave you beaming with wonder.