Reece Shearsmith

Steve Pemberton and Reece Shearsmith's new comedy-horror anthology, which concludes Wednesday was always likely to have a hint of the macabre about it - these are the men who made Psychoville, after all. What we didn't expect was for Inside No. 9 to show such broad comic range: everything from drawing room farce to silent slapstick is attempted in the show's six episodes, and for the most part, very successfully. Tuck into the full comic smörgåsbord over on the iPlayer.

Its hard to know which to admire more - the rich and perverse imaginations of Steve Pemberton and Reece Shearsmith, or the range of acting talents that has brought this strange and memorable series to life. The final episode is also the most Gothic. A sensible young woman goes to babysit in a refrigerated mansion while its owners, a most unusual brother and sister played by Shearsmith and Helen McCrory, are called away on an urgent matter. Upstairs lurks a bedridden brother who was born inside out. The story is called The Harrowing, named after Christ's descent into Hell to free imprisoned spirits. Babysitting doesn't get tougher than this.

Reece Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton have strong opinions on the subject of stage actors, a theme they explore in this excellent instalment of their dark anthology series. Jim is understudy to Antony, a bellowing thesp. When Tony is drunk during "the Scottish play", Jim's fiance Laura urges him to take the lead, at which point the episode's satirical retelling of Macbeth becomes delightfully apparent. It's a spooky and highly satirical take on actors, Shakespeare and power - and of course, there's a twist in the tale.

Radio Times review

The biggest challenge Reece Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton have set themselves, with this anthology of one-off dark comedies, has been pouring a new story into the pint pot that is half an hour of TV. They manage it with panache here, in another fable of the unforeseeable that gallops unerringly to a horrible conclusion.

Pemberton is a boorish, bitter stage actor taking the lead in the Scottish Play. He's dismissive of his co-stars, the audience and particularly his meek understudy Jim (Shearsmith). But Jim's fiancée isn't willing to let her other half stay stuck in the wings...

It's a magnificent meta-Macbeth, full of daggers before and spots that damn. Knowing the text will take you only halfway and, in any case, the clever plot is really just a vehicle for characters sketched fully in only a few lines, and a torrent of fruity luvvie gags about jealousy, superstition and stage-hogging hams. Delicious.

Another exquisite short story from Steve Pemberton and Reece Shearsmith again poses the question of what these two could achieve with the scope and budget of a movie. Here, however, we are in theatreland, and dressing room nine is that of leading Shakespearean actor Tony (Pemberton) with understudy Jim (Shearsmith) looking unlikely to ever wear the crown. Note: the mentioning of the Scottish play by name does not betray the writers' ignorance of theatrical tradition.

Radio Times review

Having set an unreachable standard in the previous two episodes, Reece Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton ease off a bit here, delivering a tale that's as brilliantly acted and constructed as you'd expect, with several sublime moments - but no knockout blow.

Tamsin Greig plays a friendly but efficient representative of a charity that makes wishes come true for terminally ill children. She brings an Enrique Iglesias-ish pop star to a suburban house. When the visit goes wrong, she and the dying girl's parents (Pemberton and Sophie Thompson) are tempted to take advantage. It's a slight, silly story that can't go anywhere and doesn't. Flawless execution rescues it.

The grotesque and toe-curling is usually just below the surface where Steve Pemberton and Reece Shearsmith are concerned. In The League of Gentlemen, the fictional town of Royston Vasey - slogan "You'll never leave!" - was sinister in every way, but in this series of one-off tales about houses numbered nine, the cast, characters and setting change from week to week, which allows Pemberton and Shearsmith to demonstrate their formidable talents as writers and actors, and keep their audiences guessing.

Now both in their mid-40s, they 
are at the top of their game. While some of the stories properly give you the creeps, others are just black comedy, 
but there is always a twist. When 
they hit the bullseye, as in the second episode - a silent comedy in which the duo played two hapless thieves tiptoeing around a house occupied by a wealthy 
art collector - they achieve something close to comedy genius.

So what are we in for this week? We meet Tamsin, a little girl who is very unwell. She lives with her parents Jan and Graham in an ordinary 1960s semi and when her birthday comes around, mum and dad want to do something to give her a boost. So they contact a charity called WishmakerUK to arrange a special guest to attend Tamsin's party: Jan's hero, the singer Frankie J Parsons.

The occasion brilliantly captures the sheer unctuousness of fandom. There's Jan in her beige slacks and prim 
lilac jersey, going all giggly and 
high-pitched in the presence of a Beverley Hills tan and a set of highly polished American teeth. Frankie has brought with him an unsmiling flunky with a bluetooth ear piece and is 
escorted by Sally (Tamsin Greig), the groomed PR officer from the charity. It's smiles all round.

But then things take an unexpected turn, in a way that exposes the venality and base instincts lurking behind 
all those fake grins. At the centre of it all, looking worldly and disappointed with the human race, is nine-year-old Tamsin.

Inside No. 9 Episode 4: 'Last Gasp' review

Reece Shearsmith's absence indicates a lightness of touch and confidence in the pair's storytelling that makes Inside No. 9 one of the undoubted highlights of 2014 so far.

If they could only write faster, Steve Pemberton and Reece Shearsmith could have a golden age all to themselves. After Psychoville, they have knocked out Inside No. 9, a series of short stories each set in a different No 9 and steeped in their trademark dark humour.

The third No 9 is a flat occupied by Shearsmith's Tom, a primary-school teacher, and Gerri, an actress played by the actress Gemma Arterton. Once you've got over the idea that someone as tall as Gerri would go out with someone as short as Tim, it's all perfectly plausible.

A tramp returns a wallet to Tom, Tom lets the tramp come in for a drink and the tramp takes over his life. Gerri movies out. Tom becomes a tramp. The tramp becomes Tom. Like the best of Roald Dahl, we've been lead, incrementally, plausibly, from a normal state of affairs to the unbelievably bizarre. I won't' tell you how it ends because it's till on iPlayer. Binge away.

Steve Pemberton and Reece Shearsmith focus their demonic gaze on celebrity worship and human greed. Tamsin Greig runs an outfit that makes dreams come true for sick children. If a little boy with cerebral palsy wants to play chees with Noel Edmonds, she will organise it. Here she arranges for the pop star Frankie J Parsons to come to the birthday party of a terminally ill little girl. After blowing up a balloon, he keels over - and the balloon filled with his dying breath is worth far more than the kidney stone sold by William Shatner for $25,000. "That's sick!" explains the appalled mother (Sophie Thompson). "The world is sick" replies her husband (Pemberton).