Review by Frank Plowright

Denny Little is able to perform reverse exorcisms, which involves finding a body and channelling the spirit of a dead person into it. That’s one hell of a concept from Ryan Ferrier, who adds layers by characterising Little not as well-meaning and trying to help people, but as a self-serving shark preying on the bereft. His problem is there being even bigger sharks and Little owing them one or their money back. Just when things look their bleakest, a possible chance for salvation walks through Little’s door. The question becomes whether this salvation will be spiritual or financial, but there’s also a problem Little hasn’t reckoned with…

There’s no doubt Little deserves what’s coming to him in this comedy drama, but Ferrier introduces elements making sure there’s some residual sympathy for his situation. He’s first seen as smug and in control, but being his type of conduit for the dead means ceaseless voices from them in his head all wanting a return to life, although that’s underplayed. Ferrier’s also worked out some surprisingly clever solutions to some of Little’s problems over four chapters.

Confusion is sown by poor storytelling over the opening page (sample left). George Kambadias gives Little a jacket that can look different from front and back, for no great reason includes a defaced poster of him, and has him shout to a hot dog vendor around a hundred yards away. Is this supposed to be three different people? It’s all teething problems, and thereafter Kambadias designs the cast and situations well, and the comedy plays out smoothly.

Ferrier complicates the plot via the inclusion of a Vatican envoy, which allows for a few good jokes, the sweary taxi driver being one, but he’s a largely unnecessary adjunct to the police. On the other hand, I Can Sell You a Body never becomes Love Actually, but there are some surprisingly sweet moments amid the murder and the demonic mayhem, and Ferrier’s dialogue so often prompts a laugh. A smart, but bittersweet ending rounds off what’s a rewarding comedy.