Fleabag Series 2

Since Fleabag first aired in 2016, creator Phoebe Waller-Bridge has become an international star. Adapting Luke Jenning’s Killing Eve, as well as appearing in Sola: A Star Wars Story, means she is heralded both at home and abroad. For a while it seemed she wouldn’t return to her calling card, feeling there wasn’t the story to warrant a continuation. It appears though a change is as good as a rest; as now Fleabag is back on our screens, bigger and bolder than before.

When we last saw Fleabag she was broken. Every member of her family had dismissed her, rejecting her as vain, selfish, dishonest. All through the series she had been semi-successful in keeping a lid on her emotions. However, the toil and trouble of her past could not be quieted forever; her guilt was always going to boil to the surface. At the end her detached cool lies in a heap; her lies exposed in a flood of tears and mascara. Her friend Boo did not take her life because of a boyfriend’s betrayal, but because of something much worse: Fleabag's. Our heroine had spent six episodes calling people out on their shit, yet was full of it too. Spending hours with her meant we could forgive and forget. The problem is she could not.

Series two opens with a callback to the first. That one began with an address to camera, ‘You know that feeling;’ this one: ‘You know when.’ This doesn’t just feel like superfluous stylism as it does in some sitcoms, rather the representation of Fleabag’s loneliness. Her family don’t share her sense of humour, nor her spiritedness; therefore, she turns to us. If her friend Boo were alive there would be fewer turns to camera. Essentially, we’re the conspirators, the allies, the naughty friends, missing from her life.  Her breaking the fourth wall is less a display, more a reveal. 

She soon catches us up on what’s happened in the intervening 371 days, 19 hours and 26 minutes. It seems she’s taken up exercise, salad  and abstinence. Our Fleabag is fighting fit and resisting all temptation. Cue a family meal with a priest seated at the table. He isn’t like any priest. He’s young, handsome and swears like a heathen. At first Fleabag is unsure about him: is he for real? Over the course of the meal she appreciates him as smart and rude. More like her than the woman he’s marrying. (Marrying in the priest sense, of course. The woman he's marrying? The wicked Godmother played deliciously by Olivia Colman.) That’s why the family have gathered to celebrate the couple’s engagement, and that’s where the episode stays. 

This is not a bottle episode though. (TV parlance for an episode that is shot in a single setting, consisting of just regular cast members, usually because of budgetary or time constraints.) No, this is a showcase for Waller-Bridge’s writing and her sister Isobel’s baroque music. The exit music of the first series is sublime: scuzzy, dirty and boisterous- like the character. The opening music to this is grand, ambitious and operatic; a suggestion that the punk aesthetic will be displaced by classical weight. And whilst the first season dealt in concerns of the flesh, this is more invested in the soul. The priest’s presence means there’s talk of religion and faith; there’s also a meditation on existence when Fleabag’s sister mourns in the toilet (“Get your hands off my miscarriage,” she yells). The tone is darkly funny, yet the priest gives the comedy depth.

Andrew Scott (left) and Phoebe Waller-Bridge

Four episodes in we’re seeing a friendship/relationship develop between the Priest and Fleabag. The interplay between Waller-Bridge and Scott is divine. I’m particularly loving the mischief this series is having with the fourth wall. Whenever Fleabag turns to it, the Priest notes her absence and challenges her on it. ("Where did you go?") This Priest really is all-knowing.  Although her treatment of religion is irreverent, it isn't disrespectful. Yes, in the Priest's service the camera lingers on Christ’s naked torso, mirroring Fleabag’s mind; sure, there's a scene where she reads the Bible in the bath; guilty, she also finds the robes a bit of a turn on – but for all the conflating of sex and religion, the character is genuinely interested in redemption. It’s just the path to redemption comes in hot form.

If series one was tits out rock ‘n’ roll, the follow-up is more contemplative. Typically, the sitcom doesn’t change direction; its familiarity is what keeps people coming back. Fleabag though has an ambition beyond formula. Because of this, it rejects stasis and strives for development. For all the early press about Fleabag being ribald, the show is as funny with its clothes on as it’s off. For me, Waller-Bridge has surpassed her first effort and produced something even more brilliant. Quite an achievement when the first series was so good. (Character breaks out of blog subject to celebrate with readers.)

Fleabag is on BBC1, Monday at 10.35. All episodes are available on iPlayer.