Turning the Tables: A Fresh Look at Changing Ends Season 3

Fresh from his remarkable success in this year’s biggest watercooler show, Alan Carr proves once again that he’s one of Britain’s most natural funnymen with this latest love letter to his awkward youth. But fast nipping at his heels, his younger counterpart Oliver Savell delivers another pitch-perfect portrayal that deserves to see him making a speech at next year’s BAFTAs.

Could ITV possibly have timed the return of Changing Ends any better? Loosely based on the trials and tribulations of Alan Carr’s childhood, the coming-of-age sitcom largely flew under the radar for its first two series. But now that its co-creator has asserted himself as a new national treasure via The Celebrity Traitors, the ‘80s nostalgia-fest should deservedly reel in a much bigger audience.

Like most of the 11+ million viewers who regularly tuned into the BBC phenomenon, I’m still reeling from Carr’s truly transformative display. This was a man who on day one looked destined to surpass Linda as the most useless Traitor in the show’s history, his flustered demeanor and non-existent poker face suggesting he’d be banished quicker than you can say “Claudia Winkleman’s fringe.”

Yet thanks to his wonderfully disarming sense of humor – and, let’s be honest, the remarkably clueless Faithfuls – Carr continually evaded banishment, and any significant suspicion, in turn developing a confidence which brought out his inner ruthless assassin. His final reveal, so shocking it literally brought Nick Mohammed to his knees, is undoubtedly one of the defining pop cultural moments of 2025.

Changing Ends might not provide anything quite as dramatic. Yet with the ‘Specstacular’ comedian as its writer, source of inspiration, and on-screen, fourth wall-breaking narrator, this is pure 100% Carr. Indeed, there’s no convoluted team-building-style challenges or cursive gothic covers of pop songs to interrupt the comedian’s flow here. The fingerprints that famously left a mark on Paloma Faith’s face are all over each scene.

Of course, the comedy is far from a one-man show. In fact, it rests upon the shoulders of someone who wasn’t even born when the first series of Chatty Man aired. Luckily, Oliver Savell is nothing short of a revelation as an adolescent Alan. Nailing his mannerisms without ever resorting to caricature, his portrayal – robbed of victory at this year’s BAFTAs by Danny Dyer – is so thoroughly convincing you start to question whether 16 years ago Carr secretly fathered a love child.

Thankfully, Savell is just as magnetic now he’s “grown a foot, dropped two octaves and unbeknownst to me, heading into a new era, my saucy one.” Yes, the 1989-set third series finds a now-teenage Alan getting to grips with everything from puberty to the heady thrills of puppy love.

Jake (Austin Taylor), an athletic classmate and part-time worker at the Athena store (“Woolies for perverts”) Alan spends his Saturdays bunking off swimming lessons at, is the object of his affections. And the show brilliantly captures that phase when every innocuous move – the gift of a free keyring, for example – can be misinterpreted as a sign of everlasting commitment. Alan’s googly-eyed infatuation will no doubt trigger excruciating memories for anyone whose crush was blatantly out of their league.

Alan’s pining is complicated further by the fact it’s towards the same sex. This being a light-hearted mainstream sitcom and all, the homophobia displayed is strictly of the mild variety. In fact, unlike his boneheaded friends, Jake handles all the unwanted affection with grace and empathy. However, it doesn’t forget the awkwardness and disguising that’s often required while growing up queer.

I could particularly relate to the panic which sets in whenever asked who you fancy (“Erm, Georgie, she’s erm formidable,” Alan responds while scouring the playground for a satisfying answer). Then there’s the peer pressure when you’re forced to act on it (“Ooh, it’s like being in a soup with two sexy croutons”, comes the chat-up line when he finds himself in a swimming pool with Georgie and her pal). Carr may well have exaggerated such situations for comic effect, yet they’re evidently born from a place of truth.

It’s the same for Alan’s relationship with dad Graham (Shaun Dooley), now flying high as the multiple Manager of the Month-winning coach of Northampton FC. There’s never any doubt about Carr Snr.’s love for his son. But there’s still an undercurrent of toxic masculinity and abject disappointment whenever his eldest strays from the football-supporting, girl-chasing norms. Even when Alan discovers a new-found talent for darts, his father remains distinctly unimpressed (“Not a sport”). It’s these semi-autobiographical dynamics which ensure a far more multi-layered watch than your average sitcom.

Needless to say, Changing Ends’ ultimate goal is to make people chuckle, something of a rarity in an era when most comedies forget to bring the funny. And there are plenty of laugh-out-loud moments in the first two episodes available for review.

Unsurprisingly, though, it’s Alan, in both incarnations, who get the best one-liners. “You can’t wear a shell suit, you might meet a minor Royal,” the fictional version tells Gary in excitement of a trip to the West End which, much to his disdain, gets downgraded to a flat roof pub night in Barnet.