From Metal Detecting to Manure Jars: Why Mackenzie Crook’s New ‘Small Prophets’ is the Most Surprising Show of 2026
Feb 15, 2026 /Mpelembe media/ — There is a specific, heavy stillness that descends upon a life after a profound loss—a feeling of being trapped in the amber of one’s own grief while the rest of the world moves forward. In the Greater Manchester suburb of Urmston, Michael Sleep has existed in this state of enchanting stasis for seven years, ever since his partner, Clea, vanished without a trace. His world is a repetitive loop of ordinary suburban ritual: Shreddies for breakfast, shifts at a massive DIY superstore, and visits to his father in a care home, punctuated only by the presence of his dilapidated Ford Capri.
However, Mackenzie Crook’s latest masterpiece, Small Prophets , suggests that the cure for such stasis isn’t found in modern distractions, but in the grime and metaphysical weight of 16th-century alchemy. As a spiritual successor to the BAFTA-winning Detectorists , Crook has traded the loamy fields of Essex for the social realism of a Manchester cul-de-sac called Marvin Gardens. In doing so, he has crafted a narrative that finds the fantastic lurking beneath the mundane shadows of a retail park.
The Premise: Alchemy Meets the DIY Aisle
The heart of the story lies in Michael Sleep’s (Pearce Quigley) desperate quest for closure. The catalyst for his transformation is an old journal provided by his father, Brian, containing a recipe for takwin —the alchemical creation of life. This isn’t the sterilized, high-gloss magic of a Hollywood blockbuster; it is a gritty “aesthetic of the shed” involving distilled water, amethyst crystals, antique silver coins, frankincense, lavender, and basil. Most crucially, it requires large quantities of horse manure matured in glass jars.Through this “urban ordinary” laboratory, Michael begins to grow homunculi: miniature, prophesying spirits that reflect a medieval hierarchy, including a Knight, a Peasant, a Monk, and a Seraph, alongside a King and Queen. The contrast between Michael’s day job—surrounded by the industrial order of buckets and screws—and the supernatural potential of his garden shed creates a unique brand of magic realism that feels both ancient and contemporary.”It’s about this lonely man played by Pearce. His partner went missing nearly seven years ago… It’s set in this very ordinary suburban world, but there are magical things going on down in the shed.” — Mackenzie Crook, Drama Quarterly
The Return of a Legend: Sir Michael Palin’s “Sparkling” Form
A significant part of the show’s warmth emanates from the casting of Sir Michael Palin as Brian Sleep. Coaxed out of retirement by the quality of Crook’s prose, the Monty Python legend is on “sparkling form” as Michael’s mischievous father. Despite his residence in a care home and a memory that fails to hold the reality of Clea’s disappearance, Brian is the series’ intellectual engine.Brian’s hobby of building Rube Goldberg-style marble runs serves as a poignant thematic parallel to the alchemical process of takwin . Both require a belief in cause-and-effect that borders on the miraculous—an intricate series of steps that must be followed perfectly to achieve a singular, wonderous result. This connection grounds the high-concept premise in the relatable bond between an aging father and a lonely son, both reaching for a sense of purpose through mechanical and mystical labor.
A Counter-Intuitive Craft: Choosing Stop-Motion over CGI
In an era of ubiquitous digital effects that often feel weightless, Crook made the non-negotiable choice to utilize traditional stop-motion animation to bring the homunculi to life. Collaborating with BAFTA-winning animators Ainslie Henderson and Will Anderson, alongside the Mackinnon & Saunders studio (the artisans behind Wallace & Gromit ), the production meticulously produced just eight seconds of footage a day.This tactile, handmade aesthetic is an essential antidote to digital fatigue. The “Ray Harryhausen look” of the creatures provides a sense of physical presence that CGI simply cannot replicate. By placing these gothic, handmade beings in the middle of a Manchester shed, the show creates a visual triumph that feels earned through manual toil.”The existence of Small Prophets proves the point: that British telly can still create impossible marvels like this is a reason to keep believing in magic.” — The Guardian
The Tragic Trade-off: Knowledge at the Cost of LifeT
he most impactful narrative mechanic in Small Prophets is the inherent moral hazard of the homunculi themselves. As Michael and his young co-worker Kacey (Lauren Patel) discover, these magical beings possess a fragile hold on existence and an alarmingly limited attention span. Cruelest of all is the fact that every question Michael asks of them brings them closer to their death.This creates a harrowing moral dilemma: Is the answer to a seven-year-old mystery worth the life of a sentient, magical being? It is a brilliant subversion of the “wish-fulfillment” trope and a warning about the anaesthetizing effect of nostalgia. The show suggests that a fixation on the ghosts of the past can inadvertently destroy the “impossible marvels” of the present, forcing Michael to weigh his grief against his responsibility to the life he has created.
Subverting the “Harold and Maude” Dynamic
The relationship between Michael Sleep and Kacey is a rare find in modern television—a platonic, gender-flipped, cross-generational friendship. While the original Harold and Maude focused on an eccentric romance, Small Prophets uses the age gap to build a bridge of uncynical hope between Michael’s grief and Kacey’s future. Patel plays the role with a sensational, grounded energy that provides the necessary friction to Michael’s reclusive habits.Watching the two of them engage in the gritty reality of alchemy—literally “exhuming jars from horse manure”—highlights the show’s lack of cynicism. While nosy neighbors like Bev (Sophie Willan) and Clive (Jon Pointing) watch the shed with the “curtain-twitching” suspicion of a traditional sitcom, Michael and Kacey form a bond based on a shared pursuit of truth in a world that would rather focus on garden maintenance and order.
The Antagonist as an Evolution: From Gareth Keenan to Gordon
Mackenzie Crook himself takes on the role of Gordon, the manager of the DIY store. Gordon is a fascinating late-career evolution of Crook’s iconic role in The Office ; he is an officious, rule-obsessed boss with a greasy ponytail who represents the “terrified order” of the modern workplace.Gordon serves as the perfect foil to the alchemical chaos of the shed. While Gordon is terrified of any deviation from corporate procedure in his retail kingdom, Michael is embracing the terrifying uncertainty of the supernatural. This workplace tension provides a target for Michael and Kacey’s humor, ensuring the show remains firmly rooted in the “gentle comedy” tradition even as its plot reaches for the stars.
Conclusion: Finding the Future in the Present
Small Prophets is a show that quietly restores the act of dreaming to our screens. It is more than a “supernatural-inflected gentle comedy”; it is a profound exploration of movement vs. stasis. By the time the final episode concludes with its “To Be Continued” and Michael prepares to follow a new lead in Canada, we see a shift from the paralysis of grief to the momentum of a quest. The critical consensus is unanimous, with the show’s 100% Rotten Tomatoes rating cementing its status as a landmark of 2026 television.”Small Prophets review: the loveliest British comedy since Detectorists.” — The TimesUltimately, the show poses a question that lingers long after the credits roll: Would you sacrifice a “small prophet” to uncover the truth of your own past, or would you choose to let the mysteries lie and connect with the living people here and now? Mackenzie Crook doesn’t provide easy answers, but he does provide a beautiful, strange, and heart-warming reason to keep looking for magic in the ordinary.