Gervais shows some heart

If there is one word that defines public opinion of the first series of Derek, it is ‘controversial’. Ricky Gervais, the architect of The Office and Extras, has always polarised opinion; his decision to use a handicapped man as the main character ensured that he would continue to do so with his latest offering. Fortunately, this tableau of life inside a small care home was thought-provoking, original and, at times, highly emotional.

Gervais could easily have survived off the caricatures of David Brent and Gareth Keenan, or bathed in the glory of Andy Millman and Maggie Jacobs. Instead, he chose to consciously risk his reputation by basing these six pithy, direct episodes on the theme of disability. Gervais himself plays ‘Derek’, one of the more endearing and lovable characters of recent times – in itself a testament to Gervais’ acting abilities – while David Earl revels in his role as Kev, a crude sexual deviant who prevents the show from simply representing a plane for sympathy and pity. Karl Pilkington plays the caretaker Dougie, ridiculous in his sideburns but forthright in his vicious denigration of inspectors and intruders.

Yet whilst they are ostensibly the most attractive and compelling characters, the duo arguably play second fiddle to the wonderfully steadfast Kerry Godliman, who plays the loving yet weary care home manager Hannah. Godliman’s unrelenting dedication to her patients, often reluctantly spurning dates with Tom (Brett Goldstein), is an unblemished example of nobility: her admiration for Derek is deeply moving. In a show which celebrates the overlooked and underappreciated, Hannah’s quiet determination to tackle the various ailments of her patients, and the money-men who threaten to move them away – “90% of care house patients die within six months of being rehoused – I’m not moving them” – is deservedly trumpeted.

Of course, strands of Gervais’ earlier work run freely throughout Derek. The numerous to-camera chats are replicated, while the weariness of Dawn in The Office is reconstructed through Hannah. Yet while The Office was a masterpiece – allowing the viewer to laugh and cringe simultaneously – Gervais’ latest work forces us to do something a little bit different: laugh and pity. It isn’t easy to lunge from Derek’s castigation of Kev’s genitalia as “the worstest penis in the world” to his consideration of his potential autism, but is Gervais wrong for daring to suggest that the two can exist hand-in-hand? Or should care homes always be sombre and funereal? Gervais should be lauded rather than lambasted for asking a pertinent question.

Gervais has been criticised by some for failing to specify the nature of Derek’s disability: it has been perceived in some quarters as homogenizing disability. Indeed, Derek’s overriding qualities are seemingly those of gullibility and innocence. But this is to miss the point. It is crucial for Gervais’ attempt at a social commentary that his assortment of characters in Derek are not defined by their disability, but by what they represent – kindness. Derek is constantly defined by his kindness, and anybody unconvinced by this should only hark back to the final scene of the series, when he reconciles with his estranged father: a tear-inducing moment if ever there was one. Even Kev, laddish and unpleasant, redeems himself through his admiration of Derek. And in that final scene, accusations of condescension and mockery give way to a realisation that Gervais actually enables these overlooked characters to be cherished by society.
Derek will return for a second series, just reward for Gervais’ willingness to transcend boundaries and to wriggle free of his comfort zone. It may not always have made comfortable viewing but for its ambition and execution, it deserves the highest praise.