Los Espookys | Sky's bizzare new import deserves to be a cult hit

Los Espookys

Sky's bizzare new import deserves to be a cult hit

As a Spanish-language comedy with a strong surreal bent and elements of the supernatural, Los Espookys might be a difficult sell. But this gloriously bizarre HBO show, which arrives on Sky Comedy tonight, has been a cult hit in the States – and deserves to find a sizeable audience here, too.

For not only does every scene burst with originality – no character or premise is quite like anything you’ve seen before – it’s wonderfully, surprisingly, funny. And while the scenarios are bizarre, the comedy emerges from the joyously dopey ensemble of characters.

Los Espookys are a band of horror fans who form a business staging creepy events for a series of outlandish characters. In episode one, it’s a priest who wants to fake an exorcism to boost his waning popularity.

The team is headed by Renaldo (Bernardo Velasco), a cheery Goth who loves his job, and his pals Ursula (Cassandra Ciangherotti) Andrés (played by Saturday Night Live’s Julio Torres, who co-created this). Scene-stealing Andrés is a whimsical, otherworldly character with shocking cyan hair, adopted into a family of chocolatiers, a typical offbeat detail that informs some splendid jokes.

Yet he’s not even the weirdest, or funniest, character of the team. That honour goes to Ursula’s sister Tati, played by series co-creator Ana Fabrega, who we first meet working two exaggeratedly menial jobs: as a human fan for the aforementioned priest, and a professional shoe-breaker-in.

She’s happy with her lot, though – part of the constantly optimistic tone of the series that makes everyone a delight to spend time with. Another of the co-creators, Fred Armisen – who has a track record in this sort of lovingly quirky comedy via Portlandia – plays a parking valet, delighted to be fulfilling his professional destiny.

Everything is ridiculously silly, with a goofy narrative drive that owes a nod to preposterous telenovelas, yet held together by the upbeat leads, the sense you really don’t know what’s going to happen next, and hilarious odd exchanges around every corner.

Andres’ boyfriend, for example, is so averse to seeing anything ugly that he fast-fowards the ‘Beast’ bits of Beauty and the Beast. While a glamorous TV presenter who, once she’s off-air, muses mournfully into the ether: ‘Where do I go when the lights go off?’

Los Espookys has a distinctive cinematic look, too, a bit Wes Andersony, but dialled back, while the ‘horror’ scenes have a Halloween style cheapness. Which means really the only frightening thing about Los Espookys is how inventively brilliant it is.