Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant’s highly anticipated follow-up to The Office — the showbiz satire Extras — was met with a lukewarm reception upon its release, and it remains an underappreciated gem. After the landmark success of The Office, Gervais and Merchant’s next project had an impossibly high bar to reach. No matter what their next show was, it was being held to an unfair standard.
The Office is a true masterpiece; it’s one of the greatest TV shows ever made, and one of the most influential shows ever made. Whenever a creator (or creative team) delivers a hit of that magnitude, there’s bound to be a lot of pressure on their next show. If it doesn’t reach those transcendent heights, then it’ll be deemed a failure.
It’s rare that a creator’s second big project lives up to the success of their first, but it has happened. Matt Groening’s sci-fi satire Futurama lived up to his generation-defining family sitcom The Simpsons. Vince Gilligan’s post-apocalyptic epic Pluribus lived up to the collective crime saga of Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul. Gervais and Merchant weren’t so lucky, at least in the court of public opinion.
The Office was universally praised by critics and audiences alike for its accurate depiction of a mundane workplace, and its uncanny ability to capture the fleeting moments of beauty within that mundanity. But, when Extras premiered, it was dismissed as a lesser cousin to Curb Your Enthusiasm, or a thinly veiled excuse for Gervais to show off his famous friends.
But I maintain that Extras is a great show. It might not be quite as great as The Office, but that’s like saying Casino isn’t quite as great as Goodfellas. Extras is a perfect blend of showbiz satire, social commentary, and good old-fashioned buddy comedy.
Extras is both a charming buddy comedy and a peek behind the curtain at the entertainment industry. Much in the same way that Party Down took us to the nicest homes in Los Angeles through the eyes of the lowly caterers, Extras takes us onto the sets of various film and TV productions through the eyes of the lowly background artists.
The series revolves around two aspiring actors working day to day as extras with no lines, next to no screen time, and hours and hours to kill in between setups. Gervais’ Andy Millman is the dry, sardonic straight man to Ashley Jensen’s sweet and well-meaning, but naive and gullible Maggie Jacobs. Gervais and Jensen share spectacular on-screen chemistry; you really believe they’re long-time friends.
Merchant only had a brief cameo in The Office, but he started to step in front of the camera more in Extras, with a recurring role as Andy’s hilariously incompetent agent Darren Lamb. This is the role where Merchant honed his uniquely awkward on-screen persona, and he has a delightful odd-couple dynamic with EastEnders actor Shaun Williamson, playing a brutally self-effacing version of himself.
It might not be quite as profound or original as The Office, but Extras is every bit the masterclass in cringe comedy. Gervais and Merchant have a special talent for coming up with deeply uncomfortable situations, whether it’s Maggie mistaking Samuel L. Jackson for Laurence Fishburne or Andy lying to a priest’s face while wearing a Saturday Night Fever disco suit.
Like The Office, Extras also has a nice balance between its cringe humor and its more dramatic moments. Gervais and Merchant’s writing is a pitch-perfect blend of comedy and drama, packing every page with laughs but never losing sight of the deeper human emotions at play.
Extras is a bit more saccharin and melodramatic than The Office — it lays it on a bit thick at times, where The Office was always beautifully understated — but the emotions hit just as hard. The final episode, in particular, has a monologue that’ll surely tug on the heartstrings.
Gervais brings a wry cynicism to most of his scenes, but he also leaves space for sincerity and vulnerability. Andy, as a character, isn’t as complex as David Brent, but Gervais brings that same deeply human quality to his performance.
Every episode of Extras revolves around one or two celebrity guest stars, playing Curb-like caricatures of themselves. Ben Stiller plays himself as an insufferable diva. Kate Winslet teaches Maggie how to talk dirty while wearing a nun costume. David Bowie sings an impromptu song about Andy being a “chubby little loser.” It’s always fun to see legends poke fun at themselves.
All these years later, Extras still doesn’t get the recognition it deserves. It’s at least worthy of cult classic status. Any show that has Patrick Stewart writing a whole movie for himself to look at naked women, or has Les Dennis doing a Mavis Riley impression at the point of climax, is an instant comedy classic. It’s not The Office, but it is a fun companion piece.
