Mackenzie Crook’s ‘Small Prophets’ Explores Middle Age, Magic, and the Echoes of ‘The Office’
The new six-part BBC Two series, Small Prophets, starring Mackenzie Crook, delves into the quiet complexities of middle age and the allure of the unexplained, resonating with themes explored in his breakout role as Gareth in The Office a quarter-century prior. Crook, who also wrote the series, describes his initial characterization of Gordon, the DIY store manager, as a “monster,” but ultimately found himself developing a fondness for the character.
Crook himself possesses a “jumpy, modest energy,” a shift from the perceived nervousness of his younger on-screen persona, now appearing more as curiosity. He acknowledges a surprising number of tattoos, reflecting a changing societal landscape.
Small Prophets centers on Michael, portrayed by Pearce Quigley, in a performance described as “comically, subtly heartbreaking.” Michael, a fiftyish, bearded man with a penchant for collecting, works at the DIY store and regularly visits his father, Brian (Michael Palin). He carries the weight of a significant past tragedy – the disappearance of his girlfriend, Clea, seven years ago – but avoids dwelling on it.
At its core, the series is a “delicate and truthful rumination on middle age,” a subject Crook admits to being “a little bit obsessed” with. “It crept up on me,” he explains, noting the feeling that “everything seems to have been 20 years ago.” He wryly observes the awkwardness of acknowledging “grownup children,” a phrase he finds particularly jarring. This tendency toward tangential, melancholic humor is a hallmark of his work, reminiscent of Detectorists. “The butt of the joke is melancholy itself, but the melancholy is also real.”
The narrative takes an unexpected turn when Michael’s father reveals a secret: he knows how to grow homunculi – miniature, fully formed humans capable of answering any question truthfully. Brian urges his son to utilize this knowledge, hoping the creatures can shed light on Clea’s fate. Michael, initially skeptical, follows the instructions, embarking on a journey that blurs the lines between reality and the supernatural. The reveal of the homunculi, achieved through stop-motion animation, is described as “fabulous” due to its unexpectedness and the show’s grounded setting.
Crook’s fascination lies in “stories of lonely people” and “ordinary people that something extraordinary happens to, and turns their life upside down.” Life continues with a sense of normalcy, even amidst the supernatural occurrences; work remains mundane, and the neighbor continues to complain. Even supporting characters, initially conceived as two-dimensional, evolved beyond expectations, with actor Jon Pointing bringing unexpected depth to the role of the perpetually dissatisfied neighbor.
The project draws inspiration from a diverse range of influences, including the surrealism of David Lynch and Michel Gondry, the experimental narratives of Charlie Kaufman and Spike Jonze, and the gentle humor of 1970s and 80s shows like The Good Life and Ever Decreasing Circles. It shares a core sensibility with Detectorists, a series Crook created after The Office, aiming for “gentle comedy” that avoids “cruel humour” and “cringe factor.” He prefers to “downplay stuff,” allowing the audience to interpret and feel without explicit direction.
Reflecting on The Office, Crook recounts a recent rewatch that triggered a “PTSD flashback,” specifically recalling the anxiety-inducing scene involving a fire alarm. The show’s impact on popular culture, popularizing the mockumentary format, also brought with it a degree of unwanted attention. He recalls being labeled the “weird-looking bloke” in the press, a perception initially tied to his portrayal of Gareth. “You’ve put that on me; I don’t think I do look weird. You’re thinking of Gareth, and now you can’t see past Gareth.” He wryly remembers being known as “Small Paul” during his school years.
Crook finds greater fulfillment in writing, editing, and directing, admitting he is “not that fussed about” acting anymore. He often feels critical of his own performances, contrasting his work with the naturalism of Martin Freeman in The Office.
The genesis of Detectorists was initially bleaker, envisioned as a wintery landscape, but shifted to a more visually appealing summer setting during the pilot shoot. The show’s quiet heroism, a triumph over everyday disappointment, became central to its appeal. Detectorists cultivated a dedicated fanbase, largely due to the BBC’s hands-off approach, allowing Crook creative freedom. “It was so low stakes that they didn’t have to meddle with it, they just let me go away and do whatever.” Small Prophets, while more ambitious with its surreal elements, benefits from a similar level of trust.
Initially, Crook envisioned Small Prophets with unresolved plotlines – Clea’s fate remaining a mystery, criminals escaping justice – and the final product largely maintains this ambiguity. The use of stop-motion animation for the homunculi was a deliberate choice to evoke nostalgia and “put some magic into it.” Despite not believing in the supernatural, Crook acknowledges a childhood fascination with the unexplained, fueled by magazines like The Unexplained. He connects this to a recurring theme in his work: “lonely kids, lonely orphans,” a romanticized sadness stemming from a happy upbringing. “Sad escapism. Maybe that’s my genre.”
Small Prophets is available on BBC Two and iPlayer from February 9th.
