Critical popcorn

“Maybe they’re all dead or ghosts, that’s what you usually do isn’t it?“

“We’ve done that three times. 54 films, we’ve only done it three times.”

So that’s it then! After 10 years and an awe-inspiring 55 episodes, Steve Pemberton and Reece Shearsmith‘s masterful anthology series has come to a close. With a consistency and quality that has regularly put similar shows to shame (looking at you Black Mirror) it’s a bittersweet moment, but Plodding On provides the perfect close to the series. Both a joyous celebration of the series and a heartbreaking look at the toll of a working partnership, it’s as idiosyncratic and unpredictable an ending as you could hope for from one of television’s most unique series.

The writers kept the details of this episode very close to their chest, with no previews or even a poster available. A lot of people were expecting this episode to be another genre defying episode like Dead Line or 3×3, or a more personal two hander like The Trolley Problem, I don’t think anyone expected the poignant relationship breakdown of Plodding On. Initially I thought this might actually be a sequel to the very first episode, Sardines with both Katherine Parkinson and Tim Key reprising their roles, until they mention Anne Reid by name, and everything goes a bit meta.

An unapologetically self-referential episode, Plodding On is a wistful curtain call for the series, as the pair take stock of the show’s legacy, and consider their uncertain futures apart from one another. It emerges that we are actually at the wrap party for the ninth season of Inside No.9, populated by actors of episodes past.

The best bit about the impressive string of cameos is the way that each one links thematically to the episode in which they initially appeared. Key and Parkinson end up crammed in a toilet cubicle as in Sardines, and Rosie Cavaliero slips back into the subservient role she played in The Understudy, while Nick Mohammed plays another version of his overbearing, self-obsessed fan from Simon Says. Even Sian Gibson breaking the tension of Reece and Steve’s argument makes the entire scene feel like a reprise of Bernie Clifton’s Dressing Room.

Elsewhere, Jason Watkins is presented as being just as stingey in real life as the character he played in The Bill, (I particularly loved him complaining that he’s been charged for two cokes, while holding two cokes) and poor Amanda Abbington’s constant hovering on the side-lines feels like an acknowledgement of her all-too brief role in Paraskevidekatriaphobia.

It was also nice that Robin Askwith actually got an opportunity to appear in an episode of the series after being denied an appearance in the non-existent episode Hold Me Tight! Indeed his toilet etiquette got the biggest belly laugh in our flat, a moment as shocking as it is silly. His appearance also finds a way to fit in Shearsmith’s own personal grievance with people who suggest locations without any concept of the story itself. As he said himself on RHLSTP: “Why don’t you do one on a bus? Alright c***, what happens???”

The episode even finds time for brief tributes to both Helen McCrory and David Warner in the form of lingering shots in the montage that provides the emotional centrepiece of the episode. And what a montage that was. Set to Time To Say Goodbye, (well, what else?) it’s a genuinely poignant, nostalgic look back at the series, with clips from nearly every episode, and reactions from an incredibly high profile roster of blink-and-you’ll-miss-them cameos. On a personal note I found it incredibly touching that it finished not with one of the more showstopping or overly dramatic moments but a quietly devastating scene from Love’s Great Adventure – once more for those at the back, MY FAVOURITE EPISODE! (Fittingly enough, that episode’s original title was Plodding On)

The dialogue too, is full of references to previous episodes, Pemberton’s “I feel like my life is flashing in front of my eyes” is straight from The 12 Days Of Christine, while “you lying f***ing monster” is lifted from The Bill. There are plenty more little nods to previous episodes in the script, as well as background easter eggs to reward eagle-eyed fans. In fact the whole episode seems designed to reward those who’ve been with the series since it began, with nods to behind-the-scenes tidbits like their adorably morbid ritual of faking their deaths for each others benefit.

It’s a little tricky to actually rate Plodding On. As a culmination of the entire series it’s perfect, but with all the references, it sometimes feels as if the story itself is a bit light. The final little twist too, while a lot of fun, feels a little bit like a cop out in terms of resolving the central conflict between Steve and Reece. Thankfully though, the rest of this argument feels incredibly authentic. There is a real emotional intensity and rawness to the central argument, and it’s honestly impressive that Shearsmith delivers one of his best performances in the very last episode. That little break in his voice as he pleads with Steve is some of his finest work, and his crushed reaction to Steve’s response, (“We’ve been working together so long now, I don’t even know if we are friends any more”) is genuinely heartbreaking.

It would have been very easy for Plodding On to lapse into a self congratulatory victory lap, but it manages to have it’s cake and eat it. It celebrates the series in a genuinely moving, unironic way while also undercutting the pomp and circumstances with decidedly unflattering portrayals of its two creators, depicting one as a self-aggrandizing egotist, and the other a neurotic bundle of nerves. The episode also addresses criticisms of the show head on in a painfully self aware way – Steve’s “Little half hour nothings. Every fourth one a dud” feels especially close to the mark.

I’m going to miss Inside No.9 more than I can really express. For 10 years now it’s been one of the few pieces of television that has regularly taken me by surprise, creeped me out beyond belief, and moved me to tears, sometimes in the same episode! It’s Reece and Steve’s masterpiece, and this final season has been among the strongest they have ever produced, with not a weak episode in sight. While hopefully this isn’t the last we see of Inside No.9 (I for one have already booked my tickets for the stage show) Plodding On is a perfect send-off for the series. A loving farewell to the fans who have been with the show from it’s very inception, and a low-key, intimate tribute to one one of the most singularly impressive pieces of television to come out of the 21st century.

Inside No. 9 is no more! Catch up now on iPlayer – and check out my previous Series Blog here