Remembering The Time The Thick Of It First Showed Us Malcolm Tucker's Heart Wasn't Entirely Black

If you, like everyone in this house, feel that one episode of Veep per week is not enough -- and, furthermore, are already getting stressed out by the fact that the season's nearly over -- you should be supplementing with The Thick Of It. Before Armando Iannucci took on American politics, he set The Thick Of It in the offices of a similarly pointless corner of the British government, nominally governed by a beleaguered official but, in this case, actually run by Malcolm Tucker, a ruthless, profane, spectacularly mean Communications Director indelibly played by future Doctor Peter Capaldi. Malcolm is the Prime Minister's Bad Cop, spending his days bollicking idiot Ministers and trying to keep their worst gaffes out of the press -- or, if a journalist can't be cowed into acquiescence, making sure the damage doesn't touch his boss. For three seasons, Malcolm is always mad, and always right. Then he goes on vacation and everything changes.

Because he's Malcolm, Malcolm doesn't go far: the first jarring thing the episode offers us is a view of Malcolm at home -- and a handsome, comfortable home it is...

...particularly when you consider that he's probably never there to enjoy it, what with his busy schedule of screaming expletives in politicians' faces while they try not to cry. But this is different: Malcolm is relaxed as he hosts a select group of journalists, making them feel welcome and bringing out plates of attractively arranged food. (Every time I watch this episode, I expect another knife-thin Scotsman, maybe in a cashmere hoodie, to come out of the dining room with crudités, but I guess Malcolm doesn't have to be gay to set up a lovely home. And he never at any point in the series gives the impression that his orientation is anything but Laboursexual.) This is still work, of a sort -- of course Malcolm's working these hand-picked members of the media -- but he definitely doesn't have his game face on when Ollie calls to check that the department can proceed with a plan to make Andy Murray the face of a healthy living initiative, and briskly approves it...which is why he has to call Ollie later and rescind the approval, since partnering with a celebrity will make an already shaky government seem desperate. He's so determined to kibosh Andy Murray that when Ollie tells Malcolm his temporary replacement, odious grinner Steve Fleming, has ordered Ollie's boss Nicola, the Minister of the Department of Social Affairs And Citizenship (or DoSAC), to publish years' worth of crime statistics, Malcolm signs off. But should he be held responsible for anything he says on holiday? For god's sake, he is in a sweater.

I want to blame the sweater when this all blows up: the crime stats DoSAC publishes haven't been audited, and when they have to be walked back, it makes the government look like it's trying to hide something. Reached for comment, Malcolm can claim -- correctly -- that he's not responsible for the crime stats cockup because he was on vacation. But when the situation escalates past the "blip" stage and into an actual inquiry, in order to sell his innocence, Malcolm is going to need Nicola to say the phone call never happened. Nicola is astonished that he hasn't covered his back, and since she can tell he's lost all his juice -- "You're in no position to give me anything. You're not-- You can't even get a fucking bagel cleaned up off your door!" -- she doesn't agree. One offscreen meeting later, the Prime Minister is making Malcolm the scapegoat, and stupid Steve is gleefully telling Malcolm he's fired.

Since we've already seen more than a dozen episodes of Malcolm flying into apoplectic rages for offenses that are all in a governmental day's work, we're not surprised when threats and abuse fly out of him when he's actually been sacked. We've maybe heard him be more operatic than this, but never painted a word picture quite this graphic.

What is surprising is that Malcolm has one more stop to make on his way out of the building: he has to stop in and see his assistant, Sam.

It's only been a day since Sam was happily welcoming Malcolm back to the office after his vacation, fondly chuckling as he joked about his holiday tan.

Malcolm has sprayed invective like a human firehose at every character on the show with whom we've ever seen him interact, with the sole exception of Sam. He is definitely a bastard, but he does have a code: he doesn't punch down. Sure, he may technically outrank Ollie or Glenn or Terri -- until very recently, he's even been more powerful than Nicola, probably -- but they're on the same level with Malcolm when any of them stand on their own sense of self-importance. We don't know much about Sam except that she's quiet, efficient, and unobtrusive -- exactly what any busy person in a stressful job needs an assistant to be. Malcolm's relatively kindly manner toward her shows that he recognizes her gifts and values their professional relationship. So even what is surely the darkest moment of his career as we've seen it in the series thus far, he can't storm straight out.

"What are you doing to her?!" Malcolm rages at a cluster of functionaries crowding Sam. To Sam herself, Malcolm immediately lowers his tone -- "Don't worry" -- before gearing back up in a growl: "LEAVE HER FUCKIN' ALONE!"

Because Sam? Is crying.

Over at DoSAC, staffers are greeting the coverage of Malcolm's "resignation" on TV with cheers, champagne, awkward hugs -- it's basically VJ Day. For barely six seconds, though, we get a glimpse of how the news has hit Malcolm's one friend and how, in the midst of his own crisis, he knew she would need him. It's a tiny, sweet reminder that there's something lovable in everyone -- even someone who spends most of his time doing this.