
Onto series 2 now, and with it Joel Fry’s only appearance in the season. I wish we were seeing Fry/Karl again sooner, but this hour-long season premiere is pretty decent all around, beyond just his couple of scenes.
The BBC is gearing up for a visit from Prince Charles ahead of their licensing renewal. But as they prepare, they also have to deal with the possibility of the BBC losing their exclusive airing rights to Wimbledon. Lucy is still trying to help Dan get Home Truths off the ground, and when Will’s ID badge stops working to let him into the building, an awkward realization comes to light about his internship.
Our character of the week is Izzy Gould, Simon’s PA. Will has an obvious crush on her—he likes to swoop in and volunteer to do her busy work for her, but unfortunately, he has a tendency to fumble the assignments. Izzy is diligent, competent, and kindhearted. Will often manages to just create more work for her, but like Ian, she’s concerned to learn why his pass isn’t working and is nice to him through the whole thing.
Ahead of Prince Charles’s visit, a minor security concern triggers an automatic lockdown. The whole thing kind of reminds me of the early Twenty Twelve episode with the disastrous bus trip to the Olympic park. Similarly, this storyline features a bunch of British people in suits who have an important appointment that they’re valiantly trying to be on time for, but events outside their control keep conspiring against them. As Ian and the others struggle to find a way out of the building, they’re blocked at every turn.
I think the show does a good job with how frustrating it is to get the BBC to commit to picking up a script. The meeting Lucy and Dan go to is just painful. It’s obvious that the exec they’re talking to barely knows anything about the project at all and basically just wants to put his “stamp” on it to feel like he’s done something. This amounts to him demanding random script changes from Dan, who’s anxious to comply with anything that’s asked of him, while Lucy’s frustration mounts.
A few good bits from David Tennant’s narration today:
- I like the phrasing here, nicely executed with Tennant’s matter-of-fact delivery – “Producer Lucy Freeman has arrived with just enough time to snatch a quick breakfast on her own. But nevertheless, entertainment format executive David Wilkes is keen to ask her advice about an idea he’s been asked to have.”
- Here’s our introduction to Dave, the BBC’s head of security, who’s in charge of managing Prince Charles’s visit safely – “Dave is not only responsible for the fail-safe security system that completely surrounds New Broadcasting House, but also personally devised much of the Syncopaticurity software that makes it theoretically effective in almost any theoretical circumstance.”
- “By the end of the day, it’s time to go home” – The show does lines like this a lot, but they still make me smile.
- As the shit is hitting the fan, lockdown-wise, we get, “But suddenly, as can sometimes happen on days when nothing can go wrong, it does.”
For the Wimbledon situation, Siobhan suggests a brand mashup, making Wimbledon synonymous with the BBC. That’s where today’s pitch session comes in: Siobhan gets her team to play a game of “mashup (table) tennis,” hitting the ball back and forth as they offer their ideas. As usual, poor Karl! Siobhan has a team of three, and as soon as Karl picks up a paddle, Barney complains, “No, but it’s like a singles. Otherwise it doesn’t work.” Karl, confused, tries to join Coco’s end of the table, but Barney doesn’t want him there, either. Finally, Coco suggests he be the ball boy instead.
As usual, Barney is doing way too much, jumping straight to criticizing Karl and excluding him for no reason. Nobody is playing an actual table tennis match here, so it doesn’t matter if it’s two-on-one. But Barney makes sure Karl is pushed off to the side. And when Karl points out the flaw in Barney’s idea to have David Attenborough referee the matches, saying, “Because what if, er, David Attenborough doesn’t know the rules of tennis, or, like, how to score?”, Barney argues briefly before coldly telling Karl, “You’re a ball boy, okay?” Shut up, Barney!
God, the way Joel Fry plays Karl is just so painfully real. The way he tries to chip in but all his suggestions fall flat, and even innocuous comments are derided or dismissed. The way he can’t read the room well enough to keep up with the fast-paced pitching. The way he stands, holding his arm behind his back as he tries to speak. I like watching his episodes because Karl is so funny and sweet, but they also make me sad because he’s treated so badly at work.

