The Cutprice Guignol

At the end of the day, if you give me a story that has even the barest sniff of a hint of a whiff of found footage, I’m going to love it.

But beyond that, Cold Comfort is one of my absolute favourite episodes of this season, and of the show so far – it’s one of those outings that feels as though was sort of made to entertain me in particular, with the tight storytelling, Jane Horrocks guest-starring, and the perfect blend of drama, horror, and comedy wrapped up in a sinister found footage-y twig figure dangling from a nearby tree (yes, I’m still not over The Blair Witch Project, what about it?). Following Andy (Pemberton) as he starts work at a support line, things (as per) take a turn for the worse, when he apparently listens in on the dying moments of a teenage girl.

Watching it again before this review, I was struck, most of all, by how damn funny it is – as much as this episode is a slowly-unfolding horror story about obsession, exploitation, and Take That, it’s also an observational office comedy that I would, frankly, watch fifty episodes off in its own right. Jane Horrocks (whose brilliant Radio 4 piece about her relationship with Ian Dury I think I have listened to about a half-dozen times since it first came out) brings a level of polish to her performance here that instantly elevates the episode – anyone who’s worked in even the an office-adjacent environment before will recognise this character, the long-serving stalwart with a fiendishly complicated set of inter-colleague relationships, the motivations behind which have long since faded into obscurity even as the emotion remains. Reece Shearsmith, as the office manager, gives as good as he gets – Shearsmith does such a good line in these plucked, pinched, pouting kind of characters, and I truly never get tired of watching them.

But the star this week is, without a doubt, Steve Pemberton. The still frame that makes up the majority of the episode, focused on him and his desk, puts the brunt of the episode at his feet, and he really nails this performance; Andy has a real depth to him, even in the short time we spend with him. The found footage approach (and it’s interesting that this slightly more experimental take was the first time Pemberton and Shearsmith directed an episode of the show – it’s not the easiest one to pull off, but they do a great job here) gives this the feel of a one-act play and he’s centre stage for almost all of it. From that rendition of Shine that straddles absurd and heartfelt, to those moments of anger and frustration as the truth behind the story unfolds, it’s a huge credit to his skill as an actor that this episode works as well as it does.

Cold Comfort is a bit of a miniature masterpiece – a workplace comedy, a drama, a creeping horror, with a fantastic twist ending that closes things out at just the right moment. It’s proof of the show in full swing by this point in its run, a confident, polished, and exceptionally effective story that makes these thirty minutes feel expansive – and I promise I’m not just saying that because it’s found footage. Mostly.

If you liked this article and want to see more stuff like it, please check out the rest of my Inside No. 9 reviews. I’d also love it if you would check out my horrible short story collection, and, if you’d like to support my work, please consider supporting me on Patreon!

(header image via IMDB)