Can the fresh, gender-flipped new version win over this office’s diehard Office fans? Our panel assesses the first few episodes.

The Office UK was one of the most defining comedies of the early 2000s, making stars out of Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant and launching a whole industry of David Brent impersonators. A few years later, the series was reborn in the United States where it would run for 201 episodes and become comfort TV for a new generation of fans. There are now at least a dozen versions of The Office from all around the world and, today, latest variant debuts: The Office Australia. It’s the first to feature a female boss at the helm, Hannah Howard, played by comedian Felicity Ward, and includes a whole host of familiar faces, including New Zealanders Josh Thomson, Jonny Brugh and Edith Poor.

In an interview with Alex Casey, Ward described the “cultural impact” that The Office UK had on her growing up and how that influenced her performance. “Not for a second did I actively try to be like Ricky Gervais, but I think that my 20s were just so culturally infused with Gervais-like humour that there are probably different points where he comes through,” she said. “Again, that has nothing to do with me trying to impersonate him, but just that 20 years ago, he had such a comedic impact on the cultural landscape for everyone.”

Will The Office Australia impact our own cultural landscape? The Spinoff’s panel of Office diehards gathered in the staff room for a team meeting and to assess the first three episodes of the show. All eight episodes are available right now on Amazon Prime Video.

Funny, but maybe a bit too familiar

I went into an early screening of The Office Australia with a deep sense of foreboding. The original British series remains sacred in my life, and the American one certainly has its moments even if it’s filled with a bit too much joy for my tastes. Could a local version ever compare? Or would I be left cringing for all the wrong reasons. Thankfully, based on the first three episodes, I’m quietly confident the world will come to embrace this Antipodean spin on The Office. 

Admittedly, it takes a little while for the first episode to find its footing. The Covid-inspired “work from home” premise is at least an original setting for the show, but I found the obvious similarities between the new Aussie characters and their British and US counterparts a little jarring. In particular, the “will they, won’t they” romance subplot is set up way too early (it’s basically the first thing we learn about Nick and Greta after the titles roll) and with little subtlety. Edith Poor’s Lizzie is essentially a direct replica of Dwight Schrute to the point where it starts to feel like impersonation. Felicity Ward’s Hannah Howard is clearly from the book of Brent and Scott, but thankfully has enough distinguishing qualities (behind just the gender-flip) to make the character a worthwhile successor. 

By episode two, the show starts to get into the swing of things. A deeply uncomfortable office wake and a drunken Melbourne Cup storyline in episode three are laden with eye-wateringly cringe moments that made me laugh out loud. It was refreshing that while the characters could easily have been plonked in any other version of The Office, the Australian iteration hasn’t made the mistake of copying the plotlines. I’m particularly and patriotically pleased to say that the New Zealand cast members come out largely unscathed. My reservations about Lizzie as a character aside, her performance hits all the right beats and Josh Thomson’s dry HR manager is a stand out. 

I’ll be returning to the world of The Office AU for the remaining five episodes with hope that the laughs continue to come thick and fast, but with a little bit of frustration the show hasn’t elected to do something unexpected with its carbon copied characters. / Stewart Sowman-Lund

Cautiously optimistic

Relieved to report that I really enjoyed the first three episodes of The Office Australia. I laughed out loud quite a few times, especially in episode two with its absurd drivers licence-decorated wake, complete with the problematic cultural welcome. The New Zealand-strong cast do us proud, too. Josh Thomson’s uppity HR guy is in a living hell, Lucy Schmidt’s brash, cigarette-smoking loose unit steals every scene, and Jonny Brugh’s IT guy is perfectly pathetic. 

Local Edith Poor is remarkably weird as Lizzie, the oddball right hand woman to the big boss Hannah. Played by Felicity Ward, Hannah is outrageous, totally incompetent, and hopelessly devoted to her staff and her weird moustachio’d best friend that she secretly wants to marry. She’s far closer to Michael Scott than David Brent on The Office boss continuum, sailing off the charts entirely when she enters outlandishly berserk Get Krackin territory in episode three. 

Perhaps a symptom of the breakneck, binge-watch streaming age, but the show moves way too fast on Greta and Nick’s banter-stuffed office romance. What is so good about the Tim/Dawn and Jim/Pam dynamic are the subtleties in the silence – a lingering glance there, a shoulder touch there. Call me an old-fashioned Jane Austen prude, but Greta and Nick’s relentless flirtatious wisecracks straight out the gate, including a weird threesome bit, felt like a bit much.

Where the current era has helped the show is in the litany of modern workplace references. The overarching storyline about working from home feels fresh and relevant, as does Hannah’s insistence on still thinking corny Zoom filters are funny four years after Covid (great to be represented on screen). To use some of Hannah’s corporate jargon: The Office Australia cautiously has both buy in and sign off from me, and I’m looking forward to more. / Alex Casey

Relief, robots and existential crises

There are so many New Zealanders in the so-called Australian Office, I can only assume because their little frenemy is way funnier than them. This was initially bad news as when I turned up at the early screening they were all there, dressed really nicely. “Oh no,” I said to my hot date arm candy, “It’s going to be bad and the stars are here.” I sipped my wine to soften life’s hard awkward edges which are terrible IRL. 

I was relieved to find out, probably in episode two, that this series doesn’t suck. It keeps well within the classic Office format with a few very obvious (too obvious?) Aussie things thrown in. If it had a smell it would be cheap prosecco with a waft of unclean work toilet. I cringed, I laughed, I thought “wow what a portrait of society I can’t believe we really do live like this”. Two stand out stars are the robot vacuum cleaners. The next day I went to work and felt strange. / Gabi Lardies

Call an ambulance… but not for me

Blah blah blah The Office UK was and kind of still is my whole personality blah blah blah I eventually came to appreciate the US version’s comforting charms blah blah blah I was nervous that this one would be bad and turn me into one of those sad little men who had a meltdown when they remade Ghostbusters with women in it. Those men will definitely be out there but I am not one of them this time, as much as I wanted to contribute an alternative viewpoint to this round-up of reviews.

The precise moment I stopped worrying and started loving The Office Australia is midway through the first episode, when Hannah says “I’m on the toilet”. Felicity Ward is insanely good and funny, to me her performance feels closer to Tim Robinson than to Gervais or Carrell, and you can tell (in a good way) that the episode was written and directed by NZ’s funniest person Jackie van Beek.

I agree with the consensus about the romantic storyline not holding a candle to its slow-burn will-they-won’t-they forebears, but overall I thought the first episode got the all-important “vibe” and “tone” right, splitting the difference between the quiet despair of the UK version and the out-loud wackiness of the US version. Considering I haven’t even got to the “good” episodes yet, and how painful the whole first season of the US version was, The Office Australia is way better than I or anyone could have reasonably hoped. / Calum Henderson