What do the Queen, Doctor Who and death-eating Lucius Malfoy have in common? The stars who play them are all avowed fans of the Australian sitcom Colin from Accounts – the word-of-mouth sensation that sees two singletons go on a romantic journey after a dog is hit by a car.
Not only is it a hilariously joyful piece of TV, but it also features one of the year’s most distinctive meetings between two characters. Particularly given that the car accident happens due to 29-year-old student doctor Ashley having a particularly novel way of thanking fortysomething microbrewery owner Gordon for letting her cross the road – impulsively flashing her breast and causing him to hit a stray dog.
“I definitely regretted writing it,” says Harriet Dyer, who co-created the show with her real-life husband Patrick Brammall, and stars alongside him as one of the two lead roles. Turns out she is not a fan of filming that involves baring a breast on a busy street. “I was nervous because the director was Paddy’s best friend and our daughter’s godfather. I’m like: ‘Trent’s going to see my boob today.’”
“What about all the kids walking home from school?” asks Brammall. Dyer cringes: “It was about 3.30pm on a Tuesday in Surry Hills, a family-heavy district [of Sydney]. I told the nurse that I didn’t want my nipple to look sleepy and sad. She was like: ‘Shall I put some Tiger Balm on it?’ I was like: ‘That’s too far in the other direction. It’ll be flaming red. I’m all good, thanks.’”
Colin from Accounts has proved a slow-burn smash. Viewers have been inhaling its moreish 25-minute episodes, then raving on social media and evangelising to friends. “The word-of-mouth has been crazy,” says Brammall. “It’s the best kind of recommendation. You can’t manufacture that.” It has also proved popular among celebrities, judging by the reactions it caused at the recent Bafta TV awards.

“It was wild,” says Brammall in disbelief. “Imelda Staunton stopped us on the red carpet and introduced herself. I’m like: ‘I know who you are, mate.’” Dyer takes up the story: “I said I was a big fan of hers, too, but she goes, ‘Shut up, shut up! I just love Colin!’”
“David Tennant said he and his wife, Georgia, love the show, so we got a selfie with them,” says Brammall. Dyer exclaims: “And oh my god! Mr Malfoy!” “Jason Isaacs said he loved it and shook my hand,” says Brammall. “Not a bad night’s work, right?” “It felt really cool,” says Dyer. “We got back to our hotel at 1am and I had to order a cheese plate from room service just to calm down.”
Viewers have fallen hard for the series, partly thanks to its impeccably judged scripts. The duo’s writing deftly avoids cliche and cloying sentiment yet remains sweet-hearted. “Because the show isn’t high concept, the tone was always going to make or break it,” says Brammall. “We had to get the dialogue right,” says Dyer. “Otherwise it could have tipped over into wacky or schmaltzy.”
The concept of the show, however, took a lot less work to get right. “I’m fascinated by people seeing someone they fancy on the street and running into the back of another car,” says Dyer. “It’s human nature. I was babysitting once and pushed the pram into a pole when a hot guy took his shirt off. So I’ve always been obsessed by the way of the flesh and how it can distract you.”
“The way of the flesh?” cries Brammall delightedly. “There’s your headline!” “Way of the Flesh: The Harriet Dyer Story,” Dyer says. “I wrote the idea in the Notes app on my phone and forgot about it. A month later, acting work was quiet and Pat said: ‘Why don’t you try writing that thing?’ I’d not written anything before but I went off and wrote the first episode.”
“In a week,” sighs Brammall. “She didn’t know you’re not supposed to write a brilliant pilot in five days. She’s ruined it for all of us.”
“I didn’t realise writer’s angst was part of it,” says Dyer faux-apologetically. “Now I know.”
The furry fella survives, thankfully, but is left with wheels for back legs. Landed with a vast vet bill and a now-disabled pooch, which they wryly name Colin from Accounts (“We need a strong human name, not a doggy name”), these strangers are thrown together as his co-carers. While Brammall and Dyer – who share writing credits on the eight episodes – ripped aspects of the plot from their own relationship, an injured canine meet-cute isn’t one of them (they met in 2015 on Aussie cop comedy No Activity and now have a toddler daughter). However, they did have their very own version of the show’s doggy star.
“We only had him a couple of weeks before we realised we’d made a huge mistake,” says Brammall. “He had too many issues. But we called him Colin from Accounts for the same reasons our characters do in the show.”
This doesn’t necessarily make it a great name for a TV show, though. “I was never happy with that being the title, but Paddy loved it,” says Dyer. “It’s polarising.”
“Look, managing expectations is key,” says Brammall. “If people watch Colin from Accounts and it turns out to be great, they’ll be even happier because of the shit name.”
Dyer laughs: “The working title was Dog with Wheels.”
A major inspiration was Sharon Horgan and Rob Delaney’s award-winning creation. “Our closest reference point was Catastrophe,” says Brammall. “Just people talking, but with really good writing and flawed, funny characters. The tone of that show was bang on.” Dyer says: “A guiding principle for us was the idea of embracing chaos. Everybody’s life is a bit out of control. I know ours is.”
Amid the show’s back-and-forth zingers runs a rich seam of earthy humour. Ashley spends a lot of her time at work sewing up postnatal women. “All those stories were from my friend Steph, who’s a doctor,” says Dyer. “During her six-year medical training, she became chief vag stitcher.” Ashley sleep-pees in the drawer of Gordon’s beside table (which really happened to another friend of Dyer’s). Gordon mistakenly texts Ashley an unflattering dick pic. She does a number two at his apartment but realises too late that the water is turned off and she can’t flush it. Instead, she scoops it up and throws it out of the window. Grim enough, except Gordon later picks it up, assuming it’s Colin’s. “Oh my god, that’s massive,” he mutters. “You must have been bottling it in, little mate.”
“I regretted that scene on the day, too,” says Dyer. “But I was so inspired by Lena Dunham’s Girls and the way she made her character so real. She showed a different side to women on television. We saw cellulite, stretch marks, stuff we’re used to being buffed and tastefully lit. That censorship has become normalised. I wanted to flash a nipple and take a shit on-screen, complete with groaning.”
“That actually happened to Harry while she was writing the pilot episode,” says Brammall. “It did,” confesses Dyer. “The toilet flush in the office building had stopped working, so I had to fish out the turd, put it in my empty lunch container, run outside and put it in a bin. It was mortifying, but I felt like inspiration was trying to offer itself.”
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Did being a real-life couple make the sex scenes easier or harder? “Easier,” says Brammall. “Although we need an audience now.”
“They offered us an intimacy coordinator,” says Dyer. “We were like, bless, but let’s put the money towards beers on Fridays.”
Why give your romantic male lead the full name of Gordon Crapp? “Thanks for asking,” says Dyer. “Shout out to Love Island.”
“Harry drags me into watching a reality show every six months,” says Brammall. “The first Australian series was won by a bloke called Grant Crapp. Good looking guy.”
“He was a good-looking rooster,” says Dyer. “But there was one episode when he said about the girl he was coupled up with: ‘Do you think she’d like to be Mrs Crapp?’ There was absolutely no irony. I looked it up on Facebook and there are plenty of Crapps out there.”
It went down well in its native Australia, but the pair say it has been even more warmly received in the UK. “We grew up on a steady diet of British TV, so when we found out it was going to be on the BBC, we were chuffed,” says Brammall. “So many BBC comedies have influenced us. As a kid, I watched The Goodies, Fawlty Towers, even bloody Bananaman.”
“Australians are like the UK’s charming, weird cousins,” says Dyer. “We have a shared sensibility.”
“We both enjoy awkwardness with a bit of heart,” says Brammall.
A second series is in the pipeline but hasn’t been formally green-lit. “We were plotting like mad until the writers’ strike was announced,” says Dyer. “We have so many ideas ready to go.” As Brammall says: “We just need to do what we did first time around and write stuff that makes us laugh.”
“Although we’ll probably be divorced by then,” deadpans Dyer. “We’ll have to film it separately, then CGI us together.”
“Over my cold, dead body,” says Brammall.
Final question. Has Colin from Accounts brought the couple closer together? “Definitely!” they say in unison, as if to prove the point. “It’s everything,” says Dyer. “Of course, spending so much time together can get crunchy occasionally.”
“It’s lucky that Harriet’s the funniest person I’ve ever met,” says Brammall fondly. “As long as we’re laughing together, life’s not that bad.”
“And you’re the funniest man I’ve ever met,” adds Dyer sweetly.
“Wait,” says Brammall. “You’re talking to the journalist, aren’t you? Unbelievable.”
Colin from Accounts airs on Tuesdays at 10pm on BBC Two and is available in full as an iPlayer box set.