In my review of the first season of Colin from Accounts, the comedy creation of the married couple Harriet Dyer and Patrick Brammall, I called it unfailingly funny, honest, acute, kind and really rather wonderful. I cannot tell you with what trepidation I approached the second season, or how delighted I am to tell you that everything that made it great is back – and that the new batch of episodes is shaping up to be better than ever.
It opens just a few weeks after we left Ash (Dyer) and Gordon (Brammall) having given Colin to a new family then regretted it an hour later, only to find the new family refusing to return him. They are now effectively stalking “Peppy” (“Stupidest fucking name”) while the family loudly advises them that “possession is nine-tenths of the law!” and to “grow up and have a baby!”
The Colinlessness of their evenings allows unpleasant thoughts and conversations to fill the vacuum. Do they have enough in common to make the relationship work? Will the age gap do for them in the end? Is the boxing bag in Gordon’s flat just ornamental? “It didn’t used to be,” he replies. Time makes fools of us all – and our sporting equipment redundant. A variety of ways to get Colin back are deployed – including kidnapping him from the child who has taken him for a walk.
I do not consider it a spoiler but a public service to tell you that Colin is returned to his rightful owners by the end of the first episode. But the problem of his absence is replaced by a greater one, involving Yvette (Annie Maynard), some maths and another trip to Gordon’s excellent doctor – mostly to be found snacking as they discuss the aftermath of his patient’s testicular cancer from the first series. “I’d like to help you, Gordon,” he says cheerily, over what I hope is a tribute to one of Australia’s finest meme-providers – a succulent Chinese meal at his desk. “But my computer isn’t on.”
Meanwhile, the co-owner of the microbrewery, Chiara (Genevieve Hegney), has semi-left the marital home to pursue her relationship with Ash’s best friend, Megan (Emma Harvie), while Brett (Michael Logo) the barman’s parents are urging him to move out of theirs (which results in a Kevin Bacon Cameo cameo). Ash’s superbly toxic mother, Lynelle (Helen Thomson), is still being taken in by her magnificently creepy boyfriend, Professor Lee (Darren Gilshenan) – the pair of them together are transcendently awful. And Gordon’s brother Heavy (Justin Rosniak) arrives. “He’s a shit-stirrer,” says Gordon – and so it proves.
The second season maintains the perfect balance of bonding banter, aggressive sniping and real emotion that made it such a joy the first time round (and an international success with a slew of awards and nominations). There is a scene in which Gordon catches Chiara taking boob selfies for Megan in the beer chiller room and leaps quickly along the reasoning behind her choice of location. “Logical!” he concludes. It’s very funny, but it speaks also to the length and depth of their friendship, to Gordon’s essential unflappability and – as her frenzied commentary ensues – to Chiara’s constitution, best thought of as that of a neurotic horse.
Best of all, Ash remains a real person, not the hot mess or manic pixie dream girl we have been conditioned to expect in our sitcom-romcoms. The new season moves them into deeper emotional territory and gives secondary characters more room to breathe and develop – which, as there isn’t a weak link among them, is a very wise move indeed. And it asks harder questions, such as whether establishing a “proper” relationship is always hard, how sure you can be that the promised rewards will come and whether they will be worth it. How much of success is a result of timing and circumstance? Should you let discoveries about the past affect your present? Do they give you insight into the true nature of your partner? Or who your partner was and how much they have evolved?
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Dyer and Brammall remain the perfect foils for each other – they have different energies but are equally compelling. Equally matched in the ability to deliver sarcastic one-liners or bruising truths, they are obviously united as creators, with a clear understanding of all their characters, where they want them to go and why. The result, as before, is a masterclass in writing and an absolute joy to watch.
