The Unsuspecting Hero of Company Retreat
Creative Catalysts #1 - On the deliciousness of unpredictability, the goodness of humanity and why the latest iteration of Amazon Freevee's Jury Duty is the perfect comedy.
Creative Catalysts is a weekly series in which I wax lyrical about people, places and things that have inspired, educated and energised me, in the hope that they might do the same for you. This week, I talk about last week’s TV obsession - Jury Duty Presents: Company Retreat.
A hidden camera reality TV show that’s more heartwarming and sweet than horrifying and salacious? If you’d asked me that question a few years ago, I’d have said it doesn’t exist, unless we’re counting CBBC’s Prank Patrol, and even that was touch-and-go at times.
Until 2023, when we were treated to Lee Eisenberg and Gene Stupnitsky’s Jury Duty, a hoax sitcom featuring a cast of actors fulfilling an American jury trial, and one unsuspecting member of the public, who has no idea that he’s part of a meticulously scripted setup. Three years later, and the team are back with Company Retreat; the central conceit is the same, but this time we’re taken on fictitious hot sauce company Rockin’ Grandma’s’ summer retreat, experienced through the eyes of Anthony, who thinks he’s there on a temporary contract.
Company Retreat is a masterful exploration of the human condition, as well as an entertaining comedy. In my eyes, it’s the perfect scripted / unscripted format, blending the two genres in a way that manages to extract the best from both. By crafting a tightly woven narrative, the team behind the show are able to create situations and stories so ridiculous that they would ordinarily only be found in a sitcom. Be it the head of HR publicly proposing to an employee he’s never so much as held hands with, a seminar about frost-bitten testicles, or Dougie Jr.’s character hiding in a bunker in the mountains after admitting that his “original” hot sauce recipe is, in fact, Taco Bell.
The real beauty, however, is in what happens next. Unlike a scripted show, the ball is thrown into the court of Anthony, who - as is the nature of a hidden camera format - will react however he wants to react, driving the rest of the narrative forward. Watching this guy who thinks he’s a temporary employee react to these situations with such compassion and care is, honestly, beautiful. No matter how bizarre the set up, his immediate response is kindness. After head of HR Kevin goes home on day one, tail between his legs, Anthony reassures him and encourages him to come back, whilst also comforting Amy, the employee on the receiving end of the unwanted proposal.
He reacts to Dougie Jr.’s ideas for “authentic” jerk sauce not with judgment but encouragement, giving him some tough love after he puts the future of the entire company in jeopardy. He’s a friend to every single employee, even those that - frankly - I’m not sure I would be. But the most amazing thing about Anthony, which Company Retreat spotlights and celebrates so beautifully, is his integrity. At a time when genuine authenticity is muddied with AI-generated content, it’s a rare and special thing to be served a story about a good person, fighting for the right thing. Particularly when the outcome of that very fight hinges on the unpredictable responses of a real person. As is unpacked in the final episode, the team behind the show can only script so much - the rest is up to Anthony.
When the company comes under threat from The Triukas Group, a fictitious corporate investment firm where literally all the employees have red hair - revealed to us and Anthony in a wonderfully surreal company advert - arguably the easiest thing for Anthony to do would be to not get involved. And, for most of the series, he doesn’t. But, when it becomes clear that Triukas are not only soulless corporate giants with values totally at odds with the inefficient but familial vibe of Rockin’ Grandma’s, we see Anthony struggling with the moral quandary he’s faced with. And what a satisfying struggle it is to watch.
In the penultimate episode, when it’s revealed that Triukas are planning on terminating the contracts of the people Anthony has grown to know and love over the course of his bizarre week, he - like all the very best fictional heroes - quite literally sprints in to save the day. Watching him put the Triukas employees in their place with a polite but firm “your words mean nothing to me” and begging Doug’s character to listen to him, “father to father”, I had goosebumps. Because, as Anthony himself puts it, he’s a temporary employee with no “dog in the fight”. Yet he fights for these people like they’re his family. Derren Brown could only dream of such a shining example of the goodness of humanity, and with no hypnosis involved.
It’s also a credit to the cast, crew and production team of Company Retreat that the series culminates in the way it does. The fact Anthony believes in and loves these people so strongly is down to how well they have been crafted, with such nuance and truth. As the best comedy characters are, the fake employees of this company represent all facets and spectra of human behaviour. I feel like I know a version of every single one of these people. They’re incredibly well-observed, affording them the freedom to, at times, teeter on the edge of caricature. That the actors remain in character the entire time, regardless of whether Anthony is there or not, is the cherry on top of a near-perfectly baked cake.
Last year, I wrote a piece about the great, untapped potential the scripted-unscripted hybrid space offers.
In that article, I talk about how I think the most exciting stories exist in that liminality. Company Retreat feels like one of those shows to me. It’s as much a psychosocial experiment à la The Traitors, as it is an entertaining sitcom about the employees of a weird and wonderful hot sauce company. But it’s also a reminder of the goodness of humanity. The love and admiration that is so clearly shared between the cast and Anthony is beautiful to behold. In one of the final pieces to camera, actor Emily Pendergast tearily says, “I can’t imagine what Anthony did - it’s so cool. He accepted all of us”.
I agree with her; it IS so cool. The genius of this format is that it capitalises on the freedom offered by being able to carefully craft characters and situations, along with the total unpredictability of unscripted storytelling. To watch a show in which the hero has no idea that he is the hero is rare and wonderful. I hope that its success paves the way for a more open-minded approach to storytelling, one which lets go of the desire for certainty and embraces the unpredictable.
“This will be the best gig we ever have. It’s because of you, Anthony. You changed my life for real. You changed all of our lives”.
This is a reader-supported newsletter. If you enjoyed reading this piece, please do consider becoming a subscriber. And tell your friends! I’d love to keep growing this platform and it’s only possible with your support. I’m on Instagram too.
What We Miss When We Don't Look Up
Introducing Creative Catalysts, a series inspired by one sad old man on the Northern line.
“It’s scary, isn’t it?” he says, nodding towards the rows of commuters whose heads are buried in their phones, eyes glazed over, thumbs twitching. “No one looks up anymore”.
I have to watch this now!!!