I’m not sure if it’s heretical or actually normal to think Reece Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton’s beloved BBC horror anthology series Inside No 9 is a bit patchy. But that’s how I tend to feel: there are some classic episodes, but by the end it felt like the duo were really fighting to inject new life into the 30-minutes-with-a-twist-at-the-end formula, and probably only succeeded about half of the time.
Stage/Fright, though, is a delight, the duo at the peak of their powers. Running at well over two hours, it dips into the TV show – the first half heavily revolves around the episode Bernie Clifford’s Dressing Room – but it is a rare spinoff that feels totally a thing of the theatre. That’s partly a result of the pair’s long standing fascination with Grand Guignol, music hall, stand-up and other forms of stage entertainment (they of course began their careers in live sketch troupe The League of Gentlemen).
But while that’s represented in their script and Simon Evans’s production, the fact is that the duo both now have long and impressive stage CVs. Stage/Fright is a tribute to a theatre and the stage life in a broader sense – the play-within-a-play second act is informed by a genuine love of the theatre and a series of West End Wendy in jokes that may baffle non-theatre nerds – the spoofing of Jamie Lloyd’s Sunset Boulevard during the second half is particularly delightful, especially when it audaciously segues into a found-footage horror homage. Theatres have featured in Inside No. 9 every now and again – but this feels like the duo’s real love letter to the medium and the buildings.
At the core of a rock solid cast of 10, both men have a real presence – part vaudevillian, part thespian, part sitcom star – and a sheer belief in their own material that means it never feels like a flimsy spin off, even when they’re literally recreating scenes off the telly.
It is, however, very much a gift to the show’s fans. The programme ended last year with a typically meta episode set at a horrendous wrap party for Inside No. 9, bidding sardonic farewell to Pemberton, Shearsmith and their numerous guest stars. But I wouldn’t say it was quite a ‘thanks for watching’ to longterm viewers. This substantial, two-and-a-half-hour, Easter egg-packed show feels like that, especially with an ending sequence which I’m forbidden from divulging, but that comes about as close as the duo were ever going to get to saying a literal thank you. If declaring Inside No. 9 has ended and then immediately announcing a three-month theatre run almost looked like a form of denial from Shearsmith and Pemberton, it actually makes sense in context – it’s a parting gift, a celebration of Inside No. 9 and its influences, the real wrap party.
