Kind-hearted, gauche, banal – Gavin and Stacey remind us of ourselves
Why oh why do we love Gavin & Stacey so? Let me count the ways. The Christmas special achieved the best December 25 ratings for a decade with 11.6 million viewers. Even the BBC described it as “well lush”. When it aired at 8.30pm almost half – 49.2 per cent – of all television viewers tuned in. Not quite enough to win a referendum but I would aver we definitely won the argument.
In my house the argument was with my spouse: “Why are you watching this? It’s not even funny. Who are these people, sitting around doing nothing?” My lofty response went something along the lines of: “Shush! Uncle Bryn is about to reveal what happened on that fateful fishing trip. It’s not supposed to be Live at the Apollo. Oh, and as for ‘these people’. These people are People Like Us.”
Cue a (very Gavin & Stacey) misunderstanding predicated on geography rather than ontology, because I’m not Welsh and he’s not from Essex and nobody’s eating panettone. And yes, strictly speaking, this is true. But by Us, I don’t mean Us, us. I mean Us as in the UK.
The joy of the much-loved show, which began back in 2007, and ran for three series resides in its faithful reflection of real life in all its kindhearted, banal, occasionally gauche but always warm familiarity.
Streetsmart Fleabag, it ain’t. The fourth wall remains intact. Nobody carries out assassinations in designer ballgowns a la Villanelle. There are no explosions, baddies or high-octane confrontations, just a panic over plum puddings missing in action and mild bafflement when Nessa surreally gifted everyone a tap: “I just think they’re great for rinsin’ cloths, wetting cloths, filling jugs, cups, mugs.”
The episode was co-written by the irrepressible James Corden, who plays Smithy and is now based in LA, and the utterly splendid Ruth Jones as Nessa, who has stayed put in Cardiff.
Nessa and Smithy have a long, complicated, highly sexed relationship and as a result are co-parenting Neil The Baby. Everybody calls him Neil The Baby. He is 11. If that doesn’t make you crease up you probably won’t have dissolved into tears of laughter when Stacey said there were Calippos in the freezer. You had to be there.
In recent times television has brought forth similar, unshowy gems that may not dazzle on first viewing but slowly capture the imagination and the heart through the sheer brilliance of their observation; Mother, starring Lesley Manville is a case in point, as is Friday Night Dinner and, in its day, The Royle Family. Dip into any of these as a one-off and chances are you’ll be bemused by their alleged appeal. Invest a little time, however, and the idiosyncratic characters start to feel like family.
Gavin & Stacey didn’t draw in millions of us because we wanted wisecracks or sought satire; we craved nothing more than gentle humour rooted in recognisability. It felt right because it felt like home.