Douglas is Cancelled, ITV review — Hugh Bonneville faces trial by Twitter in sledgehammer satire

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It is not often that a comedy on ITV brings to mind a major work of 20th-century literature. Yet new mini-series Douglas is Cancelled shares a similar premise with the late Milan Kundera’s 1967 debut novel, The Joke. Both are about men who are investigated and ostracised for making an offhand quip in what they believe to be a private exchange. For student Ludvik, a “fatal predilection for silly jokes” leads to an appearance before a Communist party tribunal; for household-name news presenter Douglas (Hugh Bonneville), it means trial by Twitter.

But where Kundera confirms the innocuousness of Ludvik’s joke from the off, writer Steven Moffat keeps things a little more vague throughout his four-part series. Douglas is accused on social media of having made “extremely sexist” remarks at a wedding, but the reality of what was actually said isn’t revealed until the show’s final minutes.

The ambiguity surrounding Douglas’s alleged transgression not only keeps viewers alert to the gap between narrative and fact, but also allows Moffat to widen the scope of his satire, to critique both “cancel culture” and the conceited middle-aged men who see themselves as the arbiters of what is funny, what is true and even what feminism and misogyny mean.

The series begins with some frantic crisis containment by Douglas’s ethically dubious producer, Toby (Ben Miles), and tabloid-editor wife, Sheila (Alex Kingston). But their attempts to spin the story are derailed when Douglas’s co-host, Madeline (Karen Gillan), releases a response that seems designed to draw attention to the allegations while ostensibly showing her solidarity.

For the first half of the series Madeline appears to be a shrewd, opportunistic operator who knows all too well how to exploit the older man’s obvious affection for her. But the third chapter marks a stark shift in perspective and tone. After two episodes of rapid, relentless dialogue, the story suddenly becomes one about the awful power of implication and the pain wrought by complicity.

A flashback to three years earlier places us in the room with Madeline during her interview for the role. Within minutes, uncomfortable laughter — hers, ours — turns to dread as her interlocutor starts to make more and more insinuations and thinly veiled threats.

Watching these disquieting scenes you wonder why Moffat didn’t choose to play the whole series as a straight drama. Not so much because the change from comedy to something much darker is jarring — that is clearly the desired, destabilising effect — but because it doesn’t really land as a comedy in the first place.

Too often Moffat grabs a sledgehammer when a scalpel would serve him better (not least when it comes to sending up Gen Z) or resorts to caricature when we expect sharp satire. Simon Russell Beale (Douglas’s clueless, shameless agent) and Nick Mohammed (an insufferable comedy consultant) are especially wasted in the kind of one-note, exaggerated roles you might find in a light farce. In the end, a story that is initially evocative of high literature comes to feel derivative of middling sitcoms.

★★★☆☆

On ITV1 from June 27 at 9pm with episodes airing weekly; streaming on ITVX