From the writer-director of BAFTA-winning Detectorists, the whimsical and inventive mind of Mackenzie Crook returns once more, crafting a charming, subtly heartbreaking, and quietly gripping new BBC comedy. There is something special about a work so fanciful and full of wonder, yet so deeply human – and that is exactly what Crook achieves with Small Prophets.
At its centre is the immediately likeable Michael (Pearce Quigley), a grizzly-bearded loner living in an overgrown suburban home in Greater Manchester. His world initially appears mundane, as we glimpse a daily routine of chowing down on malted shapes before driving his Ford Capri to his unremarkable job at a DIY store where he reluctantly – yet teasingly – engages with bewildered customers and his relentlessly irritating shift manager, Gordon (played by Crook himself), who almost feels like an older version of his Gareth Keenan persona from The Office.
Yet what starts as the monotonous soon becomes an enchanting escape into something irresistibly quirky. Each episode opens in a dreamlike world of birds – an abstract, recurring motif that quietly signals the show’s more mystical leanings. This bizarre, yet intriguing tone is then deepened during one of Michael’s regular visits to his father, Brian’s nursing home (Michael Palin). It is during the pair’s first on-screen interaction that the series begins to unfold its central mystery.
We learn that Michael’s girlfriend, Clea, vanished on Christmas Eve around seven years ago when her car was found on the Severn Bridge, but she was not, and that Michael is still clinging on to the belief that she will one day return. However, as bleak as that premise may sound, Small Prophets is anything but and refuses to let its own heartache overshadow its warmth.
Brian, in the early stages of dementia, recalls stories of his time in Egypt – tales Michael once dismissed as childhood fantasy. However, Brian becomes increasingly insistent that these stories are real, proposing an elaborate plan involving spells and meticulous instructions found in a 1950s journal to uncover the truth behind Clea’s disappearance. It is here that Small Prophets fully embraces its mystical edge, setting itself apart from more conventional comedies.
Much like other works of the same creator, the series finds comfort in the way of human connection. Underneath the supernatural wonder of Small Prophets lies a sentiment of companionship and belief. We are soon introduced to Kacey (played by the relatively unknown Lauren Patel), Michael’s much younger colleague, and seemingly his only likeable one, made all the more endearing by her laid-back attitude to the job. As the series progresses, the pair grow increasingly close, becoming a platonic power couple that once again proves Crook’s ability to craft infectious on-screen relationships, leaving you grateful for your own.
What truly elevates Small Prophets, however, is its delicate balancing of tone. Crook masterfully navigates the fine line between offbeat comedy and genuine emotional weight with real care. On the face of it, a series about a lonely middle-aged man searching for answers about his missing partner seems like a recipe for a sob-fest, but Small Prophets instead finds room for eccentric chuckles throughout. Whether it’s Michael’s awkward, passive-aggressive exchanges with his nosy, irritable neighbour Clive (Jon Pointing), or the surreal image of him being mistaken for Father Christmas by a mugger while carrying a bag of toys, Crook’s script offers enough humour to keep the show warm without ever undercutting the emotional core of Michael’s story, resulting in a quietly melancholic effect.
Alongside the brilliance of its writing, Small Prophets benefits from a series of excellent performances. Quigley’s portrayal of Michael is near-perfect. His awkward demeanour and quirkiness are far from off-putting, instead surfacing mainly in his interactions with those who seek to annoy or pester him. In contrast, his ability to shed these traits and reveal a kind, quietly charming presence around those he cares about is genuinely heart-warming, while his more overtly comic moments feel like a natural continuation of the humour he brought to his smaller role as Russell in Detectorists.
Michael Palin delivers a top-notch performance as the old oddball Brian, sharing his son’s eccentricities and understanding just enough of what’s going on to aid Michael’s quest – while leaving just enough unsaid to keep things intriguing.
However, the jewel in the crown of the series is Lauren Patel’s performance as Kacey. For an actress far less experienced than the rest of the cast – which includes a typically convincing turn from Paul Kaye as a troubled anti-hero – she brings a remarkable amount of energy, naturality, and vibrant on-screen chemistry with Quigley. Kacey never feels like the mere sidekick to the story’s hero, but as an emotional, human anchor for Michael, offering a moving antidote to his loneliness. Small Prophets, at its core, is a story of belief. Whether it’s Michael’s conviction that one day his love will return, or the unbelievable antics that unfold in his shed, Crook conveys the idea that hope and belief – sometimes in the fanciful – can go a long way, even when logic and reality suggest otherwise.
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