3 out of 5
Created by: Simon Mayhew-Archer
It’s droll, crude, and cute all in one, which probably already calls it out as a British comedy. But on top of that, Can You Keep A Secret? manages to ever-so-gently – amidst the droll, crude, cuteness – nudge itself from some of its indulgences that continually threaten to turn it into something dumber, or attemptedly poignant; it primarily remains “just” a British comedy, which is where / when it works the best and is at its most charming. But of course, the fact that it has to keep nudging suggests it’s continually sliding (or sloshing) off to one side or the other, and you sort of cringe during those moments… making the sigh of relief when it course corrects rather satisfying.
The spoiler up front is the plot of the thing: Harry Fendon (Craig Roberts), in expressing his sadness to his mother (Dawn French) over the recent passing of his father to Parkinson’s, is cautiously asked the titular question… before dad (Mark Heap) reappears, admitting that the couple faked his death for the insurance money. Even if you hadn’t seen any promo material laying this out, you can kind of call the gag from far away, but the comic timing and expressiveness of all the actors – and Simon Hynd’s tight direction, allowing room for the beats while not dragging it out – makes it something you giggle at the whole while, a pattern that generally continues throughout the course of the show.
For better and worse, as hinted above: things kind of run their course, with hijinks involving keeping dad’s non-death on the d.l. from mom’s friends, or Harry’s police wife, Neha (Mandip Gill), and naturally that spirals out of control into a wider net of secrets, but French and Heap milk the loving life out of these characters, and Roberts is completely game to go along for the ride as the hapless somewhat-innocent. Gill is initially introduced as a bit of a dullard – one of the questionable side quests the show starts to explore – but she quickly becomes a standout amidst the team, juggling a lot of loud personalities without having to strictly play the straight-person counterpart. And occasionally writer Simon Mayhew-Archer remembers to include some details about Parkinson’s, and on the whole, the way the couple deals with it as just kind of part of their day-to-day feels so true for a particular type of thick-skinned eldsters I sense many of us know, but sometimes there’s that indulence tendency again, where Mayhew-Archer maybe goes down some subplot rabbit holes that truly serve no purpose except to take up runtime.
But I come back to that trio of droll / crude / cute characteristics that, very much due to the cast, are effectively dialed in to not be too much or too little of any on thing, landing in that sweet spot of easy-to-watch comedies with an appropriately tasteful sprinkling of quirk.
