To kick off the third episode of the Netflix animated comedy “Alley Cats,” protagonist Gus — an overweight orange tabby voiced by writer, creator and frequent director Ricky Gervais (think Garfield with a distinctly working class British accent) — describes his plan for the day. It starts with an achievable goal. Then: “Get distracted immediately. Do loads of weird, pointless shit that somehow makes stuff worse. Kill something. Eat bits of it. Give up our mission. Come home here. Sleep for 14 hours.”
“Home,” in this case, is a derelict London rowhouse where Gus and his mates Puke (David Earl), Fang (Andrew Brooke) and Olive (Diane Morgan, better known as daft presenter Philomena Cunk) have taken to squatting. There, the cats watch TV, from a “Love Island” knockoff called “Thick and Single” to news footage of looting to nature documentaries, chat about nothing and generally do as Gus describes. “Alley Cats” ambles along as such for half a dozen sub-20-minute chapters — though the show is tinged throughout with a melancholy that’s a little surprising from the typically acerbic Gervais.
Given the other series’ swift cancellation, it’s unlikely many viewers will have watched both “Alley Cats” and “Kevin,” the Amazon Prime Video series with a similar premise co-created by Aubrey Plaza. But comparing the two, as is inevitable for a critic commissioned to review each in turn, proves instructive. Both are cartoons for adults distributed via streaming, centered on feline protagonists in major cities. Yet “Kevin” is louder, wackier and more joke-dense — one might even say more American — than “Alley Cats,” which is more downbeat and droll by comparison.
“Alley Cats” also organizes itself around social caste, as befits its country of origin. The titular crew also hang around with a housecat they nickname Ponce (Tom Basden), who’s more genteel in every sense of the term than his friends. He sounds posh; he’s spoiled with pudding; he’s neutered and thus immune to baser urges, including Olive’s unrequited crush. The rest of the crew are more base, volleying the c-word — rhymes with “runt” — around freely as they debate useless topics like whether four cats could take down “one fat kid” or if bees are edible. (Most laughs come from these mumbled, mundane exchanges rather than conventional setups and punchlines.) Puke, the mangiest of the group, admits his private parts are “smashed up” because “I gave a hedgehog anal.”
But “Alley Cats” doesn’t just revel in the nastiness of feral life. The show also depicts its hardships with disarming frankness, even verging on despondency. An associate of the crew is introduced and then fatally run over in seconds. A deadbeat dad is reassured that, since his kittens were adopted and grew into well-adjusted triplets, “maybe you not being around was their best chance.” The last line of the season — not really a spoiler, since there’s not much context necessary — is “we’re all gonna die soon.” Sometimes, this undercurrent of gloom tips over into outright nihilism. (“Fuck people,” Gus proclaims in one of his many rants at the television. “I can’t wait for people to wipe people off the face of the Earth.”) More often, though, the mood is more one of resignation to a hardscrabble existence that also has its pleasures.
The serialized plot of “Alley Cats” comes from a lost kitten (Jo Hartley) the strays resolve to help find her way back home. Gervais isn’t overtly sentimental in depicting Gus’ growing affection for his young, quite cutely drawn (her eyes are enormous) young charge; in fact, the story resolves on a fittingly bittersweet note for the overall tone. But there is a real tenderness that’s thrown into the mix with the lewd banter and glass-half-empty outlook. “Alley Cats” is so compressed that it ends up stopping short of real heft. A subplot about Gus’ ailing mother is introduced so hastily it almost bewilders; on a broader level, this is fundamentally a hangout sitcom about free-range felines. The show nonetheless takes an unexpected direction that makes for an enjoyably low-key binge. Even bullshitting cats have feelings.
All six episodes of “Alley Cats” are now streaming on Netflix.
