I’m not crying, you’re crying. OK, fine – I’m bawling my eyes out. And not just because it’s time to say a final farewell to Gavin, Stacey and the rest of the Barry and Billericay contingents – but because their swansong is a beautiful, extraordinarily poignant bonanza of nostalgia, love and (eventually) wish-fulfilment. If these characters don’t already have a place in your heart, this emotional 90-minute goodbye probably won’t change that. But if they do, prepare to be forcibly moved to tears.
British comedy has long relied on the Christmas special: our greatest sitcoms tend to bow out at their peak, but the festive revival traditionally comes to the rescue, extending the lifespans of iconic shows such as The Royle Family and Only Fools and Horses by a decade or more. If there’s still any doubt, Gavin & Stacey (which ostensibly concluded in 2010) belongs firmly in the same modern classic category. This is not just because of its gargantuan popularity (it may qualify as the last properly mainstream sitcom, airing just before streaming fragmented the zeitgeist), but because of its quality. Don’t be fooled by its straightforward accessibility – Ruth Jones and James Corden’s romcom perfectly offset its superficial sweetness with an undercurrent of sour edge. Best of all, it doubled as a joyous hymn to humdrum British life, instilling mind-numbing minutiae with cheer and turning mundane small talk into a kind of poetry.
Having said that, there was something slightly off about the 2019 Christmas special, which felt like a karaoke performance of the show’s greatest hits: the catchphrases, the house parties, the fishing trip, a niggle in Gavin and Stacey’s relationship, some actual karaoke and more unresolved will-they-won’t-they for our eponymous couple’s respective best friends: melodramatic loudmouth and builder Smithy (Corden) and the mysteriously well-connected, gruffly swaggering and invariably leather-clad Nessa (Jones). The pair have a child together – the result of a casual fling that has continued sporadically for 17 years – but their relationship is characterised by a combination of compulsive attraction and deep-seated revulsion. That last instalment ended on a cliffhanger: Nessa revealed she loved Smithy and asked him to marry her. With that unanswered proposal ringing in our ears, we return to the twin settings of Essex and south Wales five years on – only to find Smithy preparing for his wedding. Could Nessa be his bride? Nope, sadly it’s Sonia (oh, spoiler alert), his disdainful Barbie-alike girlfriend from last time.
This special is comfortably superior to the last, thanks to a solid plot and less cartoonish characterisation, but there’s no point denying that Gavin & Stacey provides far fewer laughs than in its pomp. You could blame the format – Christmas specials are conventionally more sentimental than their half-hour sitcom counterparts – yet it feels like the comic substance of the show has altered too. Once remorselessly uproarious and often close to the bone (many of the gags about weight, sex and race were, let’s just say, very of their time), now – clearly unwilling to risk offence – it is remarkable just how safe the humour has become. There’s no longer a frisson of transgression beneath the cosiness.
There is still amusement to be had, however – the simple satisfaction of the 20th-century low-brow cultural references (Byker Grove, Robson and Jerome, Little Chef); everything Rob Brydon’s Uncle Bryn says and does; Alison Steadman’s Pam fantasising about widowhood; the ever-excitable Stacey’s attempts to spice up her and Gavin’s love life (she wants them to roleplay as a landlady and her unreliable tenant, “a skaghead called Keith”); another tease about Bryn and Jason’s fishing trip (no, of course we don’t get any answers).
Yet it’s the pathologically unperturbed Nessa – a sitcom character for the ages – who provides the bulk of the comic relief, as she always has: vape in one hand, fag in the other; appropriating wokeness for financial gain; recounting an anecdote about co-habiting with Hale and Pace. But she’s also more vulnerable than before. When her and Smithy’s 16-year-old son Neil departs for England – Nessa is also leaving Wales, to work on the ships in the strait of Malacca, naturally – the moment is played with a realism that is gut-wrenching. Really, the whole episode is shot through with profound bittersweetness; even Smithy’s farcically crap stag involves a devastating speech from Gavin’s dad, Mick (Larry Lamb), about how he completed their family.
And then, of course, there’s the denouement – a plot twist that feels inevitable, but whose engineering and execution is impeccable. In fact, the sheer cathartic perfection of the ending takes the sting out of the fact that this really is goodbye. Gavin & Stacey: The Finale will make you smile, but mainly it will make you sob uncontrollably; a send-off that pulls at the heartstrings, and then some.