Small Prophets' Pearce Quigley on Mackenzie Crook comedy: 'It's the perfect TV show'

Seven years ago, on Christmas Eve, Michael Sleep's girlfriend, Clea, disappeared. He doesn't know why she left, just that she did – and that her car was later found on the Severn Bridge. But there was no trace of her, and Clea's whereabouts remain unknown.

Following on from The Detectorists and Worzel Gummidge, Mackenzie Crook returns with his third project, Small Prophets, a BBC Two series billed as a comedy – and like both of the aforementioned, there’s a healthy dose of silliness tomfoolery. But also like the aforementioned, there are moments where you find yourself unexpectedly moved, delivered with the lightest of touches – a specialty of Crook's uniquely brilliant writing.

It was rumoured that Clea was murdered by Michael. A common assumption in such circumstances, and one that certainly wasn't helped by the police digging up his garden – which Michael has long given up on. The plants and weeds threaten to swallow his house whole, to make it disappear, just as Clea did.

But if he was to mow the lawn, or pack away the Christmas decorations that have remained untouched in the living room – a space suspended in time – it might be taken as a sign he's ready to move on, which he's not. Michael's love for Clea has never wavered, not once, and he's never stopped hoping that one day she'll walk through their front door, as if her absence were nothing more than a slight detour.

"His life has completely stopped," Pearce Quigley, who plays Michael, told RadioTimes.com. "He's able to function, he's able to keep his job going, but all the joy has gone out of his life. His only joy, I suppose, is seeing his dad, who he goes and visits [in a care home] every day, because he loves his dad very much."

Brian is played beautifully by Michael Palin, who's on sparkling form. "That was intimidating, meeting him for the first time, because there's no two ways about it, you can't get it out of your head, that's Michael Palin, Michael Palin's playing my dad... How did that happen?"

And he might just have the answer: homunculi.

"If somebody had asked me in a pub quiz five years ago what homunculi are, I probably would have gotten it wrong," said Quigley. "Now it would be my specialist subject on Mastermind."

For the uninitiated, they are tiny humanoid creatures with special abilities, grown using a very precise alchemistic recipe.

"The seed of the idea came from a footnote in an old book about Paracelsus, a 16th-century Swiss philosopher and alchemist," creator Mackenzie Crook told Radio Times magazine. "It told of a mystic who had grown eight homunculi, magical spirits able to predict the future, in glass jars full of water."

And crucially, explains Brian, they can answer any question. Like: is my missing girlfriend coming home anytime soon, or...?

As sceptical as Michael is – "This is a story his dad used to tell him at night" – especially given Brian's deteriorating mental faculties, it's an offer that’s simply too tempting to ignore.

What's he going to do, wait another seven years? So, why not?

After digging out one of his dad's old sketchbooks, he gets to work acquiring everything he needs to bring the homunculi to life: six big glass jars and lots of water (manure comes into it further down the line), and six key ingredients for each homunculus: a brass key, the nib of a pen, a plain, undecorated button, a crystal of amethyst, a gold ring and a silver coin, as old as he can find.

And lo and behold, after returning from a trip to the pub, the impossible has happened: a homunculus is born (that's not a spoiler – as per the trailer). To go into any great detail about what the creatures look like, and Michael's interactions with them, however, would be to spoil the fun.

But Michael's scepticism melts away. And for the first time in a very long time, he feels hopeful.

"Isn't that wonderful?" said Quigley of that thread of otherworldliness that runs through the series. "I love that. We're in the shed at one moment, and we're seeing this world that is like something out of a fantasy film, and then the next minute, Michael's selling nails at the DIY store [where he works]. It's marvellous. That mix of the mundane and the magical sets it apart [from other shows]."

In a world that feels distinctly devoid of magic, wonder and hope in this current moment, Small Prophets is just the tonic.

"I mean, it's not all unalloyed joy, of course. There's a deep current of sadness running through the whole thing, [Clea going missing is] his dad's whole reason for wanting to give him this recipe in the first place. But the world is definitely every day, in every way, just getting worse, so maybe people will enjoy this as a place to escape to."

Read more:

• Michael Palin talks returning to acting in new comedy from The Office legend – and how he approaches old age
• I'm Mackenzie Crook, and this is the 16th-century inspiration for my new comedy Small Prophets – and how we brought it to life

"I think it's perfect, really, it's the perfect TV show," he added. "It’s beautiful. I've watched it so many times now – and I hate watching myself. I'll avoid it at all costs. But I'm in love with it. I just adore it. I think Mackenzie is an absolute genius, and I know that word gets banded about, but honest to God, I just think the way it unfolds so slowly and unexpectedly, I love it."

Quigley first met Crooks when they appeared in The Seagull at The Royal Court 18 years ago. "He was already famous from The Office and Pirates of the Caribbean – so I was quite nervous initially, just being in the same room as him." But Quigley found Crooks to be "quiet and unassuming, ridiculously unassuming", while Crook described Quigley as "about the funniest person I know" while chatting to Radio Times magazine.

"We just we got on. Instantly. I mean, instantly," added Quigley.

When the play transferred to Broadway, they spent their evenings at the same bar, scoffing mini burgers and writing short poems, "and then read each other's poems to each other" – a detail that would feel right at home in one of Crook's stories.

Further down the line came The Detectorists, in which Quigley played oddball Russell – and now here they are again.

"One of the reasons I think he had me in mind for this character was because I’m not a million miles away from Michael. Well, I mean, my wife isn't missing, and I don't grow homunculi in my shed. And I don't work in a DIY store... yet.

"But I can't believe it, to be absolutely honest with you. I've got a major dose of imposter syndrome about this whole thing. I can't actually believe that I'm in this thing and that I'm playing that part.

"It's like Mackenzie's made a suit for me, like a bespoke suit, because he knows my size."

After being cast in two of Crook's projects – The Detectorists inspired a cult following, and Small Prophets will likely do the same – he's game for another collaboration, naturally.

"Oh, yeah, I'd do anything for him, really. Well, unless he went into porn. I wouldn't do that.

"But I would like to think that this world has another life and more story to tell. It is a story in itself, but at the end it says: 'To be continued'. And to continue this story would be just the best gift."

But as Quigley notes, like all the best stories, this one doesn't end when the credits roll.

"Of course it will be continued, whether we make another series or not. It will be continued because they go off, they leave the screen, and they're going somewhere."

Small Prophets airs on BBC Two and BBC iPlayer on Monday nights at 10pm from 9th February. All six episodes are also available to stream on iPlayer.

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