In Waiting For the Out a prisoner asks philosophy teacher Dan what job you can get with a degree in philosophy. Dan’s reluctant answer of “this” reflects the way philosophy is often depicted as an educational pyramid scheme – you learn it only for the purpose of teaching it to others, who will then do the same. However, very quickly both the prisoners and the audience are assuaged of the notion, as we see that the grand theoretical questions asked in the discipline are actually the very things these prisoners are asking themselves day in and day out. Is behaviour inherent? Are we ruled by luck? What is freedom? 

Philosophy is scrubbed of its hypothetical, moralising exterior and worn down to its humanist bones in this moving drama from Utopia writer Dennis Kelly, which places these life-defining questions in their gritty, real home. The issues of fatherhood, masculinity, and misogyny are all explored in the series, based on the memoir of Andy West, as Dan Stewar (Josh Finan) begins teaching philosophy in a prison –  a place that holds fear and fascination for him due to the criminal life of his long estranged father. 

Dan is the “black sheep” in a family as familiar with the inside of a prison cell as the inside of a supermarket. As well as his errant father, his older brother Lee (Stephen Wight) is a recovering drug addict, and Uncle Frank (Phil Daniels) is an old-fashioned crook, freshly on the outside after his latest stretch inside. All of this crime and incarceration around Dan has left him with a phobic level fear about ending up on the wrong side of the prison cells, so, naturally, those around the gentle intellectual are baffled by Dan’s career choice, which seems as though he’s holding his hand over a flame until it burns.

Along with his fear of following his father’s footsteps, Dan is plagued by obsessive thoughts about other aspects of his life. Far too often, TV depicts OCD as just a fear of germs and obsessive cleaning. Waiting For the Out shows the full extent of the intrusive, repetitive thoughts that truly define OCD. Anyone with a loved one who has struggled with obsessive thoughts will recognise Dan’s attempts at belaying his fears of leaving his gas cooker on, and the way that any seeming “fix” that gives in to the intrusive thoughts only exacerbates the problem. (In Dan’s case, repeatedly checking the stove, then taking photos, then streaming video as each solution no longer works to calm the fear). Scenes of him asking strangers to confirm whether he has done something or not because he no longer trusts his own mind are not just a painfully accurate symptom of his condition, but show how all-consuming his fears have become.

It’s agonising, yet impeccable drama, to see the way the obtrusive thoughts come between Dan and the good things in his life, as we see him make huge errors of judgement due to his compulsions. Kelly and his writers also expertly depict how easy it seems for someone on the outside to “fix” all his problems. The allegory is very clear – while the men he teaches are in literal prison, Dan is in a different kind of prison, but one hampering his life just as much.

Waiting For the Out paints an obvious, moving connection between Dan’s chaotic, painful childhood (which we see in flashbacks which bring to mind the equally bleakly brilliant The Death of Bunny Munroe) and his pathological need to keep his life under control, for fear he’ll see his life spin away from him the way his older brother’s did. There’s a compelling certainty that his control is an illusion, and an incredibly insightful current leading us to see that, as is the case with many phobias, exposure is the only treatment, and Dan needs to face his past head-on. But does that mean facing his father?

Josh Finan is captivating as Dan, fidgety and fraught, bringing the same twitchy vulnerability to Dan that he brought to troubled Marco in The Responder, but here, it is couched with intellect and self-awareness. The many scenes of Dan alone in his kitchen, dealing with his fears and mistakes, often shot simply through the open kitchen door, are stunning in their rawness and fragility; scenes which are only reinforced by Dan’s calm surety and chemistry with the prisoners in his lessons. And do not be fooled that this is some Dangerous Mind “white saviour set-up. Though Dan’s philosophy classes clearly become a bright spot for the prisoners, he does not transform their lives. He is providing them a way simply to think and express their thoughts about their own lives, in a way they may have never considered.

Alex Ferns is older but just as terrifying as he was in his Eastenders domestic violence days, as well-read, but toxic inmate Keith, who presents Dan with a philosophical problem of his own. All of the students in Dan’s class (several of whom are well known faces, such as Heartstopper’s Nima Taleghani) are fully drawn, through suicidal Samson (Sule Rimi) and Francis Lovehall, who gives an incredibly affecting performance as desperate dad Dris, the man “waiting for the out” to get his life back on track. The dialogue, whether street talk from prisoners or middle-class virtue signalling, is powerful and real, and is peppered with short monologues which – along with the evocative discordant score – feel like spoken-word poetry.

In recent years, shows like Big Boys have tackled male mental health brilliantly, and Waiting For the Out absolutely matches the show’s heart and insight. Dan’s inner and outer life is told with tenderness, clarity of vision, and stunning detail (young Dan’s plate of separate pasta and bolognese, with no cheese in the flashback, is a perfect subtle hint to his brewing mental health issues). And like Big Boys, fatherhood is a subject which runs through every thread in Dan’s story, from the girl he’s dating at the start who wants to undergo IVF alone, to his visions of his father which increasingly haunt Dan’s stressful moments (played with unsettling malevolence by Gerard Kearns) to the way Lee is trying to break the cycle with his own son.

That cycle of criminality and violence is truly the heart of the series as we see that many of the inmates that Dan teaches are products of their environment, and Dan’s lessons help them question that, while they talk with haunting casualness and humour about the violence they experienced from their own fathers. The show does not shy away, however, from the fact that some inmates are there purely by reasons of their own making, but also makes it clear that “good” prisoner or not, none are helped by the flaws and failings of the prison system. The vulnerable, the violent, the ones trying their best to turn their lives around are all let down and pushed to their limits by human and systemic failings, which Waiting for the Out paints with illuminating honesty. Even with Lee’s partner, Waiting For the Out shows how easy it is for someone on the “good” side (as a prison officer in a youth offender’s unit) of the prison walls to find themselves on the bad side, thanks to the lack fo support she encounters.

Waiting For the Out asks the difficult questions of not just Dan and his students but all of us – questions about how we treat the mentally ill, drug addicts, prisoners – and most vitally – their children. And it does so with the utmost heart and care. Dan’s story could be a bleak one (his role in The Responder is a perfect example of that, done well), but  Denis Kelly fills his story with humour and warmth – particularly in his scenes with brother Lee and potential love interest Natasha (a sparkling Sophia Brown).

There is tremendous hope in Dan’s story, and – in the best scene in the series – Dan’s epic take down of a middle-class dinner party’s pontificating guests makes clear – philosophical ideas are completely pointless if they are simply batted around for sport by people the issues don’t touch. Philosophy only comes to life when we connect with the real people whose lives are ruled by these issues, ask their opinions and how we can help them – something Waiting for the Out does in the most captivating and compelling story.

Waiting For The Out is available now on the BBC iPlayer.