‘Crashing’ is the Phoebe Waller-Bridge Show You Have Never Heard of, but Need to Watch
Before Fleabag, before the Emmy, Critics Choice, BAFTA, and Golden Globe wins and nominations, Phoebe Waller-Bridge premiered her first show as a creator, writer, and actor called Crashing. Born from a set of plays, Crashing played its original run on Channel 4 in February 2016 and has henceforth found its home on Netflix, where it’s available for all subscribers to laugh with while watching. Less known than its successor, Fleabag, Crashing similarly utilizes a six-episode series (though, only one season) to tell the story of an ensemble of misfits coming together in this strange thing we call life.
The series, set in an abandoned hospital, follows a group of six characters who act as guardians for the building, and an old friend, Lulu (Waller-Bridge), who joins the group— much to the dismay of Kate (Louise Ford), fiancé of her childhood best friend Anthony (Damien Molony). From the first episode, it is already clear that this band of adult misfits, who just happen to share communal space, are intrinsically intertwined in each other’s lives; they are friends, even. A character-driven story with a smart, snappy script by Waller-Bridge elevates what might be seen as a typical comedy to one that is unusual, intelligent, and tremendously great.
Fleshed out characters in six half-hour episodes are a testament to the talents of Waller-Bridge
The stupendous achievement of the character writing in Crashing is that Waller-Bridge is able to bring together a group of seemingly opposite personalities and unite them. An overly confident, sarcastic amateur musician, an uptight, control-freak fiancé, an unambitious restaurant owner, an arrogant sex-crazed party boy, a mysterious pensive French artist, a quiet pushover, and a recently divorced 60-something year-old who has no idea what he’s gotten himself into. On paper, there isn’t much these characters have in common. But what so brilliantly bridges them together is the human need for love and belonging, with the oh-so-Phoebe-Waller-Bridge tone of absolute absurdity.
On a very human level, watching 20 and 30-somethings on screen, finding comfort and community in each other (when they very well could’ve just been strangers in a very odd living arrangement) reminds audiences of the communities waiting to be found around us, that we already are a part of and can be active in— if we only so choose to participate. The dramatization of these very human experiences with absurd humor and savvy comedy makes it nearly impossible to tell what is going to happen next, or what a character is about to say. The dialogue is unpredictable, and there is never an uninteresting moment on screen when anything and everything can come out of the mouth of these characters. With a cast that has so much chemistry with each other that it's almost oozing through the screen, the snap of the banter works even better.
Perfect actors for imperfect characters
While every single character feels like there is a perfect actor behind them, each understanding the role and the character’s motivations, feelings, and inner monologue, standout performances from Jonathan Bailey and Waller-Bridge tug against each other for the title of scene-stealer. Bailey, who has broken into international fame playing uptight but charming Anthony Bridgerton on Shonda Rhimes’ Bridgerton, plays Sam, the haughty player of the bunch who is struggling with his sexuality. Hilarious deliveries of absurdly sexual double-entendre lines, with a dedication to taking character work to an extra 110%, pushes Bailey’s performance from a 10 to an 11. As much as you want to hate a character as self-obsessed as Sam, Bailey’s pure electrifying presence and honest, vulnerable moments keep you rooting for this anti-hero to find happiness.
Another anti-hero– carefree, ukulele-playing Lulu– is the foil to high-strung main character Kate. Waller-Bridge’s knack for understanding the human psyche, especially when it comes to puzzling personalities such as Lulu— who not only seeks out but relishes in chaos— brings an incredibly honest performance to the screen that demands your full attention.
Human stories onscreen reflect the human stories of our own lives
A very important part of what makes Crashing work is its portrayal of intricate stories with a delicate hand, while still being strong and forthcoming. For example, queer characters and their storylines are more so about a human being figuring out who they are as a person, not a big shock-value story that acts surprised about the existence of a queer person. Comedy is a vehicle for self-discovery– the use of comedic deflection by characters within the show builds a dynamic of absurd self-realization and actualization. A mix of insecurity with overcompensation. What’s more relatable than that? Nobody really knows who they are or what they’re doing, and Crashing not only explores but invites that uncertain feeling. It’s unafraid to highlight the scary and not-so-good parts of life.
Creator Phoebe Waller-Bridge, in an interview with Channel 4 before the premiere of Crashing, explains that the show is “really all about [the characters’] lives and loves and mistakes and confusion and pain… mainly their pain!” The tension between these different aspects of life are brought together by nonsensical situations like singing about orgasms at dinner, extreme birthday scavenger hunts, or food riddled with vomit; but at the core of every narrative situation is the common motivation by each character to find belonging and love. Platonic and romantic feelings hang in the air of the abandoned hospital and the frenzy of emotions drives the characters to say whatever, do whatever, and be whatever they can to cling to the community that they have fostered.
And in the end, that’s what Crashing is all about: love, belonging, friendship, romance, pain, humor, absurdity, confusion— life. Sure, there might be a bit more drama consistently occurring in the show than our realities— we don’t exist in half-hour episodic intervals for entertainment— but the reflection of human emotions on screen with a captivating, odd-ball ensemble of characters hooks any watcher by the end of the main title sequence. Jam-packed with consistent comedic banter, loving moments between opposite personalities, and a perfect screenplay, six short episodes almost seem too little for an audience that leaves the show wanting to know what happens next for their new favorite television found-family.
