“This is fucking wicked. I’m almost definitely a musical genius”.
And with that line way back in 2003, Peep Show had arrived in all its disheveled glory. With it’s POV camera-angles and continuous voice-overs capturing the gaze and neuroses of its two leads, Peep Show’s experimental style guaranteed its estrangement from mainstream viewing figures, even as it went even as it went on to become Channel 4’s longest-running comedy, destining David Mitchell and Robert Webb’s televised shenanigans for cult status within the pantheon of British sitcoms.
Produced by writing duo Sam Bain and Jesse Armstrong (Fresh Meat, Succession), Peep Show chronicled the lives and humiliations of unemployed ‘musical genius’ Jeremy Osborne and besieged salaryman Mark Corrigan— who’s own first lines are delivered with his trademark brand of wooden intensity, exclaiming ‘She’s on there! She’s on there!’ As he hurries towards a bus in the hopes of encountering (stalking) his office crush, played by Academy-Award winner Olivia Colman.
Working off of a painful relatability via the twin perspectives of two stagnating weirdos, the show embodies the wild and tedious rollercoaster that is being in your twenties. Between Jeremy’s inept persona of bohemian cool and Mark’s grim resolve to sell his soul to JLB Credit in return for some peace, quiet and a Churchill biography, theirs is a spectrum of dysfunctional adulthood that plays out alongside lamentable romances, thwarted aspirations and the steady decline of their already-tragic personalities. Unlike the sitcom trope of friends living together in mostly painless harmony, Mark and Jez’s relationship is defined according to that most nebulous of terms: ‘flatmates’, bound together by rent, grudges and a mutual dependency that never quite redeems them of their many shortcomings.
Lit up by the fluorescent mayhem of their voiceovers, Peep Show uncovered the depravity in the mundane, whether expressed through Jeremy’s untiringly sexual thoughts, or via Mark, the walking superego for whom there is no situation that can’t be reduced to a Stalingrad analogy. “There’s probably a bit of George Costanza’s DNA in Mark Corrigan” said Sam Bain, inheriting from the famed 90s sitcom Seinfeld its treatment of characters for whom there can be ‘no hugs, no learning’, as per its emotionally-stunted mantra for character development.
The comparison also strikes a chord between Seinfeld’s Cosmo Kramer and Peep Show’s own maverick side-character— Super Hans, the conspiratorial crack-addict musician hellbent on ‘creating a powerful sense of dread’. The show’s quotability is endless, owing to its impenetrable blend of nihilism and total shamelessness, resulting in such rancid gems as “Butter the toast. Eat the toast. Shit the toast. God life’s relentless” or the inescapable logic behind “Mark, if I can just get rid of the dog corpse, there’s a chance I still might get laid here.”
Through its lobotomisation of a certain kind of tragic masculinity, it is no wonder that Peep Show counts many young men as its fans, for whom the cocktail of Mark’s gloating self-deprecation and Jeremy’s bizarro confidence reflects a kind of ordinariness, a recognisable mix of insecurity, impotence and insanity that is hilarious, witty and ultimately comforting. Because although Peep Show’s creators initially feared its POV style might prove too gimmicky or distracting to work out, its unease comes more from total immersion. The viewer is forced to watch, understand and live with Mark and Jez’s absurd decisions and caustic mental-calculations. To quote Mark once more: “I’m just a normal functioning member of the human race and there’s no way anyone can prove otherwise.”
And without further ado, here are the Nouse Editors’ favourite episodes in no particular order:
Dom Smith, Chief Sub-Editor - ‘The Affair’ (Season 6, Episode 4):
How can I pick anything other than this classic? My favourite character is Mark’s boss at JLB, Alan Johnson. I love his arrogance, his seriousness and find his most profound lines utterly hilarious. This is the guy who said, “poor me, poor me... pour me another drink!” when he suspected Mark was an alcoholic. And his stock phrase is: “This is BOLLOCKS, Mark.” You can’t not love his intensity.
It’s comical and slightly saddening, therefore, when his fall from grace at the company takes such a toll on him that he tries to tempt Mark into entering into business with him. The office: Alan’s own bedroom. Suze worries he’s mentally unstable; Jez discovers Elena is in a long-term relationship with a woman; and the best episode of the entire show culminates in Alan suspecting Mark and his wife Suze are having an affair. He punches Mark.
This is BRILLIANT, Mark.
Sam Harding, Film and TV Editor - ‘Wedding’ (Season 4, Episode 6):
On what has to be the most cringe-wracked episode of the series, Mark wakes up on his wedding day and prepares to bite the bullet, flip a coin, do anything and absolutely nothing to avoid going through with the ceremony. Despite the presence of a gloriously hungover Super Hans, Mark is the most nauseous piece of human waste on screen, as his drily self-loathing inner monologue rises to flights of miserable fantasy— like mulling over the idea of a shotgun wedding proposal to a random barista who he thinks might be the one, or self-sustaining a debilitating injury by stepping into slow-moving traffic. And for once Mark actually follows through with these jaundiced mental plans, to predictably lukewarm results.
At the centre of this slow-moving car-crash of an episode is the prospect of Mark and Jez uncoupling as a result of the marriage, sending Jez into sulks of uncertainty and resentment even as Mark reminds him ‘I’m not marrying out of spite, I’m marrying out of fear.’ Practically a married couple themselves, their grudging need for one another plays out alongside their utter incompatibility as they argue over Jez’s internet-sourced best man speech, debate the semantics of proper jilting, and as Mark tries to use Jez’s admission of once kissing Sophie as grounds to end the whole wedding, livid with delight and anger at his friend’s convenient disloyalty. But for all their antics, there’s nothing more dreadfully hilarious than watching Mark and Sophie at the altar as the priest asks the audience if anyone wants to object to the union, turning behind them in the desperate hope that someone might put a stop to all this.
Kyle Boulton, Deputy Film and TV Editor - ‘Jeremy Makes It’ (Season 2, Episode 2)
A ‘favourite Peep Show episode’ is something I have rarely ruminated on considering how, up until series 6, the show was consistently excellent. There are standouts, however, and ‘Jeremy Makes It’ is a perfect twenty-five minutes of television.
Its brilliance primarily concerns the one-off characters and what Armstrong and Bain’s script does with them; Mark meets a racist friend named Darryl, while Jez produces music for the kebab-loving-honda-collaborating Gog. With their appearance comes an abundance of iconic lines and gags - “Nice packet of crunchy nut you’ve got here, pretty expensive as I recall” and, most famously, “FOUR NAAN, JEREMY? FOUR? That’s insane”. Although personally, my favourite line comes from Mark when commenting on Darryl’s musicianship: “The cor anglais, of course, he probably plays it in the BNP jazz-combo”. Most Peep Show episodes blend into one another seamlessly but with its definitive cast and relentless onslaught of one-liners, 'Jeremy Makes It' is the closest to a greatest-hits episode.
Martha Hobson, Deputy Comment Editor - ‘The Interview’ (Season 1, Episode 2):
‘The Interview’! It's only the second episode so we're still being introduced to Mark and Jez. Mark has hooked Jez up with an interview at his company, and Jez is insistent on self sabotage, getting distracted by a (non)pyramid scheme. The best parts though (that I have honestly rewatched so many times) are Mark's perfect and painfully awkward interactions with Sophie, "Swastika love. It's bloody mental." Followed by the voice message he leaves which I'm sure we can all relate to: the uncertain monologue of voicemails, as Jez observes it getting worse and worse. Mark is introduced as the most awkward man, an aggressive and uncertain flirter, a WW2 geek. Jez is introduced as gullible, brave, floating along on his weak and lazy ambitions. All so funny.
Ivor Holmes, Deputy Film and TV Editor, - ‘Dance Class’ (Season 2, Episode 1):
‘Dance Class’ has to be one of the most cringe-inducing episodes, as both Mark and Jez attempt to infiltrate hippie culture in order to please their respective love interests. Mark is one step away from being a predator as he hacks Sophie’s emails, leading to him exclaiming the brilliant line: “We have something special… not my words, yours!” Meanwhile Jez finds himself in a relationship with the beautiful Nancy, who is far less committed to monogamy than him. This all culminates in disaster for the two in typical Peep Show fashion, with Jeremy watching Nancy having sex with arch-hippie Gwyn and Sophie discovering Mark’s stalkerish methods.
Emily Harvie, Deputy MUSE Editor - ‘Quantocking’ (Season 3, Episode 6)
Series 3 Episode 6, Mine has to be ‘Quantocking’ - I know this is a pretty stereotypical choice but I’m a bit of a Peep Show newbie so my current favourite has to be ‘Quantocking’. It’s that fateful episode which culminates in Mark accidentally proposing to his girlfriend, Sophie despite his actual last minute change of plans to break up with her. Despite not having watched the show for long, I’ve already rewatched this episode a few times and it never fails to make me laugh! Plus it has one of the best subplots from the show with my favourite character Super Hans “going cold turkey” (on Mark’s Sunday Times mega-deal) and finally trying to kick his drug addiction.
