Reece Shearsmith

Inside No. 9: Stage/Fright

27/11/25

Playhouse Theatre, Edinburgh

I’m rarely excited to see theatre inspired by television but I was keen to secure tickets for Inside No. 9 as soon as this tour was announced. Like so many others, I’ve been an avid fan of Reece Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton ever since I first saw them (along with Mark Gatiss) in 1999’s The League of Gentlemen. And, more recently, No. 9 has been one of the few television series I’ve watched avidly, through all nine of its seasons, marvelling at the sheer ingenuity of these two men, who are masters of the tricky art of horror comedy.

It’s clear that they have many other faithful followers because the capacious Playhouse is a complete sell-out tonight. The audience is somewhat restless so the opening sketch, in which we are confronted by rows of theatre seats looking straight back at us, is an inspired choice, while the subject – the ways in which noisy audience members can incur the wrath of somebody trying to watch a play – is doubly so. And even if a large section of the first act is overly-familiar – based around the classic TV episode Bernie Clifton’s Dressing Room – well, that’s only like your favourite rock band smashing out some of their established hits before introducing you to their new material.

In the second act, the duo, assisted by a sizeable cast, do exactly that. What initially appears to be a group of characters enacting a delicious slice of grand guignol theatre in a Victorian asylum is revealed to be… ah, but that would be telling. Like so much of their output, Shearsmith and Pemberton have woven elements of surprise into the piece and it would be a crime to reveal too much. Suffice to say that this extended sketch utilises cinematic elements, somehow blending the two distinct disciplines of theatre and film into one satisfying whole. While there’s much here that is deliciously, darkly funny, there are also moments of extreme tension and some genuinely effective jump-scares.

A word of warning: don’t be like those members of tonight’s audience who leap up from their seats the moment the house lights come up and race for the exits – because there’s more to come and you don’t want to miss the further revelations that unfold.

This is yet another assured collaboration from the gruesome twosome. Where will Shearsmith and Pemberton venture next? Your guess is as good as mine, but wherever it is, bring it on! I’m keen to see whatever they’ve got up their sleeves.

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney

Wallace and Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl

26/12/24

BBC iPlayer

Christmas without Wallace and Gromit? Unthinkable.

And this year, there’s a brand new feature-length offering for our delectation, which brings back the duo’s most formidable foe, Feathers McGraw, who – ever since the events of 1993’s, The Wrong Trousers – has been languishing in a high security prison or, as some prefer to call it, ‘the zoo’. Meanwhile, at 62, West Wallaby Close, Wallace (who, after the sad demise of Peter Sallis, is now voiced by Ben Whitehead) is still inventing at full throttle, which means that poor Gromit is finding precious little to do. Wallace has even invented a machine that can give his faithful pooch a pat on the head and… well, it’s not the same as getting a pat from your best pal. Right?

But Wallace’s latest brainchild, a smart-gnome called Norbot (Reece Shearsmith), may be an invention too far – particularly when Feathers, from his place of incarceration, devises an incredibly complex method of overriding Norbot’s system an and then further contrives a way of copying him, over and over, to generate a whole army of gnomes committed to freeing Feathers from captivity. 

Feathers still has his sights squarely set on getting his flippers on the fabled blue diamond, which is stored at the local cop shop under the watchful gaze of Chief Inspector Mackintosh (Peter Kay) and his ambitious assistant, PC Mukherjee (Lauren Patel). As Feathers’ evil plan unfolds a proper caper ensues…

As ever, this is a delightfully inventive escapade, consistently funny throughout. Wallace’s Heath Robinson-style inventions are still a reliable source of merriment, while many viewers will enjoy the references to classic movies dotted throughout the narrative. Whitehead recreates Sallis’s distinctive tones with eerie skill and, once again, Feathers McGraw somehow manages to exude an air of total menace without the advantages of anything resembling actual features. Meanwhile, the multiple gnomes are deliciously creepy as they march along in unison, declaiming in Shearsmith’s jovial tones how very helpful they are whilst trying to send Gromit hurtling to his doom.

If the final protracted barge-chase doesn’t quite measure up to the frantic train-set sequence of The Wrong Trousers, this is nonetheless another assured addition to the W & G collection, with the original handmade ingenuity of the earlier films augmented by some impressive CGI touches. Written by Mark Burton and Nick Park and directed by Merlin Crossingham (and Park), it would be a grumpy soul indeed who doesn’t find themselves chortling from start to finish. If the titular twosome have become something of an institution, it’s worth repeating that they have more than earned their place in viewers’ hearts.

Cracking stuff, Gromit! Now pass the Wensleydale and bring on 2025.

4.3 stars

Philip Caveney

In the Earth

24/06/21

The Cameo Cinema

Ben Wheatley is an enigma. Undeniably prolific, he’s also versatile. Unlike most directors, who find an approach they’re happy with and stick pretty closely to it, Wheatley flits happily from genre to genre with no apparent game plan. Indeed, recent rumours that he’s signed on to helm the sequel to Jason Statham’s big budget creature-feature, The Meg, sound implausible enough to be true. But of all his releases, only a couple of them (Sightseers and High-Rise) stand up as true successes. The rest feel like missed opportunities and his much-lauded shoot-’em-up, Free Fire, is one of the few times I’ve been in a cinema and longed for a fast-forward button.

In the Earth sees him returning to the kind of folk-horror elements he mined so effectively in A Field in England, although this time he’s opted for a contemporary setting. The cities of the world are suffering through a crippling pandemic (sound familiar?) and scientist Martin Lowery (Joel Fry) arrives at a remote research facility in a forest on the outskirts of Bristol. He’s looking for his former colleague, Olivia Wendle (Hayley Squires), and is informed that she is conducting some ‘crop research’ in deep forest, several days’ walk from there. He’s assigned forest ranger, Alma (Ellora Torchia), as his guide and the two of them set off into the woods.

But one night, they are attacked by unknown assailants and robbed of their footwear. Shortly thereafter, Martin gashes his foot badly, something we’ve been kind of expecting because of a pointed pre-credits sequence. Then the two of them bump into mysterious loner, Zach (Reece Shearsmith), who takes them to his encampment and performs a bit of impromptu – and extremely grisly – surgery on the damaged foot. Martin is soon to discover that Zach is not the man to entrust his foot – or indeed, any other part of his anatomy – to. Zach is, to put it mildly, bananas, a man who believes that there are ancient spirits in this part of the forest, ones that are taking advantage of the pandemic to exert their power and influence over humanity… and then things start to get really weird.

In the Earth sets out its stall effectively enough and, though it takes a while to build up a head of steam, it boasts performances – especially Shearsmith’s – that are accomplished enough to make me suspend my disbelief over the various loopy shenanigans unfolding under the ancient oaks. Mind you, Martin is so hapless he may as well have the word VICTIM tattooed on his forehead. And why exactly is he there in the first place? A full day after viewing the film, I’m still not sure. And herein lies the main problem with this film. It’s nebulous to the point of being infuriating.

A local legend about a woodland deity called Parnag Fegg is introduced early on, but is never effectively followed up and, instead, we are offered fleeting glimpses of earlier happenings, often flung at us in the midst of psychedelic sequences, when a bunch of fungi start throwing out hallucinatory spores. The first of these passages is impressive, but I could have done without the second one, which just feels like more of the same and, once again, has me thinking wistfully about a fast-forward function. More damningly, for a horror film, apart from a couple of wince-inducing injury details, this doesn’t feel remotely scary.

In the end, I realise that I don’t really care what happens to any of the characters, mostly because I haven’t learned anything about them. File this one under ‘Y’ for ‘Yet another missed opportunity.’

3.2 stars

Philip Caveney