Company Party: Lucy Davis as Dawn Tinsley, Ricky Gervais as David Brent, Martin Freeman as Tim Canterbury and Mackenzie Crook as Gareth Keenan. Ray Bermiston
The first half of The Office's Christmas specials aired on Boxing Day 2003 – 20 Christmases ago. The next evening, when the final part of Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant's documentary sitcom (the final episode of The Office) aired, Stephen Merchant went to a pub in Bristol.
“We were playing pool, and at a table next to each other There were some guys sitting with us – they obviously didn’t know who I was,” Merchant recalls. “One of the guys said, 'Did you watch The Office last night?' Another said: “Yeah, that was a bit of a downer ending wasn't it?” I wanted to say: “There is another one.” tonight, you drugged ***! Go home and watch! It has a happy ending!”
The first of the specials is, by Merchant's own admission, “dark.” Tim (Martin Freeman), his Fisher-Price haircut worse than ever, is still stuck in his job as a paper merchant in Slough, Vernham Hogg, and is 4,000 miles away from would-be lover Dawn (Lucy Davis). And David Brent, long since laid off, danced his way from irritable to tragic, selling leather cases and sanitary products by day (“Can I ask you something? Who makes your tampons?”) and chasing D-list fame in Mumbo Jumbo's at night. The first episode ends with Brent alone and humiliated, his deposit lost on his beer-soaked Austin Powers costume.
“I wanted people to go through this, I wanted people to suffer,” Ricky says Gervase. “I wanted to bring Brent to his worst, I wanted there to be heartbreak… but I always intended to give them what they wanted.”
This goal-scoring pool player missed. The conclusion of The Office specials is a masterful pull of the rug: almost a commentary on the futility of buying into happy endings—a construct of unreality—before delivering a glorious, breathtaking finale. Overall, these specials are among the most perfectly crafted 100 minutes of British comedy, punctuated by some cathartic, sharp swearing when Brent finally stands up to the boorish and aggressive Finchy. “Chris,” says Brent, “why don’t you go fuck yourself?”
Office: Ralph Ineson at the roles of Chris “Finchy”; Finch, Ben Bradshaw as Gavin and Ricky Gervais as David Brent. Photo: Jack Barnes
The last time we saw Wernham Hogg's staff was at the end of the second series in 2002, when David Brent asked not to appear in it. excess. Gervais and Merchant didn't want to return for a third series, but wanted to set up the story.
“We felt that if we did a third series, we would keep repeating ourselves and it would lead to diminishing returns,” Merchant says. “How many funny and awkward things could David say? I think that now – as more experienced writers – we could continue to do it satisfactorily, but at the time we thought that for some reason we had run out of steam. The specials seemed like a way to wrap things up.”
Making a Christmas special was also part of the great tradition of British television. “Christmas deals were always a big deal when I was young,” Merchant says. “It was an opportunity for small mini-movies – for feelings and big emotions. I used to read the Radio Times and TV Times and looked forward to the Christmas specials.”
Indeed, the Christmas special has long been the jewel in the crown of any television series – a sign of mainstream success. And by 2003, The Office had become not just a success, but a defining cultural event. It first aired in July 2001 to widespread indifference. “I still have the first review,” Gervais says. “Total slag.”
The Office was created based on a demo tape filmed in the real office where Gervais worked. “If I submitted a script for The Office, it would still be sitting in someone's drawer,” he says. “Because it doesn’t jump off the page. It was about David Brent, about body language, about a man who said unfunny things and then looked at the camera. It’s impossible to fit into the script.”
But comedy fans embraced its brilliance, devouring episodes like Big Whale's scotch eggs and learning to communicate almost exclusively in Office quotes. The sitcom didn't so much speak directly to a generation as stare awkwardly at them through the camera, evoking an immediate comedic sensibility – that PC-baiting, Gervais-cringing-with-happiness intonation. (I belong to a generation forever doomed to speak Brent-isms. Fact.) By December 2003, The Office had won numerous awards. David Brent's dance became a cultural event in itself. And Ricky Gervais has been called “the most influential man in comedy” – a point Gervais and Merchant laughed about on their XFM radio show in the early 2000s.
It was once almost standard for comedy programs to send characters on vacation. The Trotters went to Miami. Victor Meldrew has set one foot in the Algarve. “Birds of a Feather” went to Mallorca. Gervais and Merchant even poked fun at the trope in the sitcom Inversion When the Whistle Blows – what The Office might have been, with funny wigs and a studio audience – heading to Spain. The Office specials fall short of putting a sombrero on Chris Finch (a damn good rep), but they still aim to take characters into new territory.
The parameters change as we follow Brent outside the office and into his personal life (or lack thereof). Although it's not so much about changing the location as it is about changing the context. In the specials, The Office becomes a show about the show, catching up with the staff three years later and learning how they dealt with the impact of the documentary. “Sew it up,” Brent says of how he was portrayed. “It was a seam.”
In the specials, David Brent regularly drops by at Wernham Hogg, which he says he does to keep the staff's morale up (in reality, he's lonely and misses it). Gareth, the former assistant manager, is now the de facto manager. Tim is stuck sitting next to a pregnant Anna (Elizabeth Berrington), completely devoid of any semblance of emotional intelligence. And charming rival boss Neil turns out to be (although he probably always was) a sarcastic jerk. Neil goads him into asking a date to Vernham Hogg's Christmas party, forcing General Brentmeister to sign up for an online dating service.
Ricky Gervais in as David Brent, Sandy Hendricks as Carol (Brent's date to the Christmas party), and Rachel Isaac as Trudy. Credit: Jack Barnes
Merchant admits that they were “puritanical” about maintaining the integrity and reality of the documentary format. According to the internal logic of The Office, the first two episodes were filmed back-to-back, so the characters were not known to the public at the time the documentary was made. Brent is dealing with a bit of fame right now. “In our view, if you come back to this in a few years, David Brent will be a household name,” Merchant says.
The specials play on the zeitgeist and revisit so-called stars of early reality TV and docuseries such as Big Brother, Airport and Driving School. Brent is sort of recognized on the street (“Are you that fat from the airport?”). which isn't even in the top 100. “Fine!” states Brent. “I didn’t want to!”
The music video is almost a broader, slapstick joke. But it's smart on money. Brent, barefoot and wearing white lingerie, looks like he's at X Factor judges' week. “I remember people who had any taste for celebrity would release a song and it would get to number 112,” Merchant says. “It didn’t seem unrealistic or unlikely.” Lest we forget, Driving School's Maureen Rees – Britain's first reality TV star – released a cover of “I Like Driving in My Car”, reaching number 49.
Stephen Merchant: “We always wanted a happy ending”; Photo: Jeff Vespa
“People didn’t realize that the main thing for me was fame,” Gervais says. “It was always about a man who thought fame would fix his life. He wanted to show the world how funny he was, what a philosopher he was, what a great guy he was, how politically correct he was. If this was just a sitcom and not a fake documentary, people would be like, “Yeah, that's fine, but why is he acting like that?” Once you get him to look at the camera, you realize, “Oh, he's a big man-boy who wants to be famous. He wants to be loved. Everything is a performance.”
In the first two episodes, Brent tries—and mostly fails—to gain popularity in the office (“first friend, then boss… maybe third artist”). The specials are about trying (and definitely failing) to gain popularity with the general public. Or, more accurately, the disinterested nightclub patrons who either don't know who he is or would rather throw Marmite striped underpants at him. “They’re not my audience,” Brent tells his useless agent. “I’ll tell you who I got along with—Parkinson.”
Trying to find a date for Vernham Hogg's Christmas party, Brent sets up a series of torturous blind dates: one who perceives his small talk as a slight on his late mother's breast; another that elicits one of the show's funniest reactions straight to the camera: “Oh my gosh.” Brent is not the only one to blame for the catastrophic dates. The first date is tense and defensive, the second is boring. In another scene, Brent calls a potential date (voice of Julia Davis) and asks if she's seen the documentary. “God, you're not such a terrible boss, are you?” she says. She's right, of course, but it's rudeness worthy of Brent himself. This he proves later when he mistakes a tall girl for his companion at a corporate party. “I'm expecting a blind date and I'm worried it's you!” – he says, ruining her evening.
The wild heart of The Office specials, of course, belongs to Tim and Dawn. In the first episode, the flirtatious friendship reflects a bit of workplace dynamics; an example of how small or tactile connections are enhanced in the workplace, especially through the use of cameras. “Tim and Dawn were shaking,” Merchant says. “Because the documentary made the slightest gesture – played with her hair, touched her hand – charged.”
They Was it always the plan to get Tim and Dawn together? Or was it driven by public demand? “I think we always wanted a happy ending for Tim and Dawn,” Merchant says. “But we felt that when they got together, that would be it.”
Gervais agrees. The end of the series gave them the freedom to finish the story and not have to worry about what happens next. “I liked the line ‘they will, won’t they?’” says Gervais. “But when you know it's the end, you can burn all your bridges.”
Having moved to Florida – and given up on her dream of becoming an artist – Dawn returns to Slough to attend a party with her boyfriend. fiancée boyfriend Lee (Joel Beckett), a man so lacking in holiday spirit that instead of buying Dawn gifts, he simply returns what she spent on him.
Again, it's the little moments that feel big: the look on Tim's face when he hears Dawn is coming back barely conceals the unexpected emotional gut punch; the first flash of eye contact between them; and a hug as Don leaves the Christmas party – presumably leaving Tim's life – as Take This's Back for Good tugs at the heartstrings. Tim, wonderfully played by Martin Freeman, tries to hold on to that half second forever.
At the time, I—like many other viewers, I'm sure—was pulled in the wrong direction: Dawn drives off in a taxi, clutching Tim's secret gift from Santa—a set of paints, her own sketch, and a message. “Never give up”. It would be an almost plausible and fitting ending – in keeping with The Office's sense of grim reality. They even make documentaries – in real life there is no happy ending. “You turn off the camera, it’s not the end, is it?” says Tim. “I'm still here.”
“I remember a lot of talk about how we were going to do this and plant the seeds,” Merchant says. “Secret Santa and Dawn draw a little sketch of Tim and how long he will be seen. Discussions about why she had a camera in the taxi with her. Where is the documentary team headed? To the airport with them?! All this time we gave just enough information without telling where it was going. I remember I was glad that we had all sowed it well.”
Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant in 2002. Photo: Brian Smith
When Don does return—focusing on the background and then kissing Tim to the strains of Yazoo's “Only You,” where every synth note feels like a rush of longing and nostalgia—it's a rare television moment: one that makes you feel exactly the same as before. the first time you saw it.
“It took a lot of work to make it believable—she couldn't just turn around and walk back,” Gervais says. “I remember thinking, let's do this in the background. Let her interrupt something. Let people watch and not understand what is happening.”
“There were discussions about how long and how passionate the kiss should be,” Merchant says. “There was a lot of discussion about which song was playing right.” The merchant is still pleased with the choice. “Only you,” he says. “I felt inspired by it. Even now, when I hear it on the radio, I feel sentimental.”
Part of the magic is the ambiguity. “Tim didn't become a rock star,” Merchant says. “Dawn was in America but she is now back in Slough. Is she back at the front desk? Not everything is so rosy.” Although Merchant believes that Tim and Dawn succeeded. “I always thought they had moved on,” he says.
Brent doesn't even need a kiss. His redemption is his girlfriend, Carol (Sandy Hendricks), who asks him to call her again. Finally someone likes him. “He can't believe his luck,” Gervais says.
Pleasant and open-minded, Carol encourages Brent to be himself and even lets a little casual racism slip past him. Afterwards, he confronts Finchy for making a demeaning joke about Carol. In that moment, Brent became the person he always wanted the camera to be: a good guy.
“In the specials, his redemption was twofold,” Gervais says. “He met someone who said, just be yourself. For him it was like a revelation. It's another thing that with such confidence and self-awareness he tells Finch to fuck off. This is my favorite moment. “Chris, why don’t you go fuck yourself?” I felt a rush of adrenaline. I couldn't wait to do it.”
“We always really liked him,” Merchant says of Brent. “He is a vulnerable person. If he could just get out of his own way, he would be happier. The real assholes are Chris Finch and Neil. They are alphas – people who talk behind your back. It's not actually in Brent's DNA. He wants to be loved and to be everyone's friend.”
“I never thought he was a hell of a boss,” Gervais says. “If I knew a guy like him, I would think he's a great boss because he can get away with murder.”
At the time, the end of The Office was almost ruined. The BBC accidentally sent a copy of the script to an Essex beauty salon owner, who sold it to the Daily Mail. The Mail published a review of the special but did not reveal Tim and Dawn's kiss. “I was mad as hell about it and I still am!” – says the Merchant. “It's forbidden, isn't it? If you get someone's thing in the mail, you can't just open it and flog it, can you?
Office Christmas specials attracted just over seven million viewers on Boxing Day 2003. Merchant remembers being told afterward that they were “sold out” for giving The Office a happy ending. “I think it was because we were perceived as quite cynical people and that the show was quite cynical,” Merchant says. “I think Ricky and I are actually quite sentimental. In some ways, our perceived cynicism worked in our favor. People assumed it would be another grim ending, so they didn't see it coming. And if we were Richard Curtis, you'd expect a happy ending.”
Gervais remembers his next idea: another fake documentary. “I knew we'd never do it, but I remember thinking it would be fun to do 'The Office,'” he says, “where I was Ricky Gervais playing David Brent, but when they said, ” cut,” I was still ___ hole. But this is another ___ hole. Firing people and saying, “Don’t you know who I am?” I think that would be going too far: television was devouring itself and devouring itself again.”
On the subject of making more episodes of The Office, Gervais has previously said – and quite rightly – “we just shouldn't do it.” Although he did revive Brent for the 2016 film David Brent: Life on the Road. Was Gervais concerned about ruining the magic of the specials? Or spoil the ambiguity? “I knew I had to do things differently,” Gervais says. “Another world, another time, another Brent. I made Brent have a breakdown over The Office coming out.” I agree that it feels different – almost a “what if?” an alternate version that never encroaches on the perfect ending of the specials.
Mackenzie Crook, Ricky Gervais and Martin Freeman after the kiss Photo : BBC
Merchant's Bristol crime comedy The Outlaws returns to the BBC for a third series in 2024. Meanwhile, Gervais appears in his latest Netflix stand-up special Armageddon on Christmas Day. It's been 10 years since they worked together on Life's Too Short. “We just went our separate ways creatively,” Merchant said last year. “But we definitely never had any big fights or big arguments or anything like that.”
The Office's legacy is still felt. It wasn't the first comedy to use the documentary format, but much has been made of how it influenced the next generation of sitcoms. The Heart of The Office was also an influence, although Merchant doesn't think it was necessarily innovative. “A lot of our influences were quite dark emotionally,” Merchant says. “I think British comedy has always relied on desperate people. Look what happened to the likely guys. If you take away the laughs, it feels like an existential drama about two men whose young lives lead to middle age.
“And Steptoe and Son are trapped in this codependent relationship—Dad won't let Son fly away and leave the nest. Basil Fawlty – a desperate man… and Alan Partridge. For us, it was a tradition of heartfelt British comedy that knows how to deal with emotion and pathos.”
Perhaps The Office's greatest contribution to British comedy is its warmth. Before The Office, few classic British sitcoms had a happy ending. Even the Trotters squandered their millions.
“It's about the small victories,” Gervais says of David Brent. “He didn't win a gold medal at the Olympics. He didn't become the heavyweight champion of the world. But the woman told him, “Be yourself,” and he told the idiot, “Fuck off.”
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