THE END OF THE F***ING WORLD. Simply F***ing Brilliant

The series follows the misadventures of two teenagers – they are clearly school outcasts who struggle both in their interactions with peers and, even more so, with their parents. Hormonal storms, the need to rebel, sexual tension. On the surface, it all points to yet another teen drama, but The End of the F***ing World pays no mind to categorization – it is simply a series like no other, where one might detect a mix of genres, motifs, and references to cult classics, but doing so is ultimately futile.

When the show opens with the line I’m James, I’m 17, and I think I’m a psychopath, followed by a glimpse of the boy’s collection of trophies (small animals he killed and stuffed himself), any doubts about genre affiliation are immediately dispelled. Knowing how the story unfolds, I could list countless references (to Bonnie and Clyde, Thelma and Louise, Kalifornia, or Natural Born Killers), but they won’t tell you anything useful. The End of the F***ing World has no regard for categories – it smoothly transitions between motifs known from teen comedies, gory visions of a would-be psychopath, moments of emotional revelation in which the teens discover hidden corners of their inner selves, and scenes filled with vulgarity and pitch-black humor.

The main characters are the aforementioned James (Alex Lawther – The Imitation Game, Black Mirror) and Alyssa (Jessica Barden – The Lobster, Far from the Madding Crowd). Both are clearly antisocial, though each in their own way. The seventeen-year-old, fascinated by animal torture for years, considers himself a psychopath and feels the only thing missing from his “happiness” is murdering a human.

His peer, on the other hand, is a visibly attention-seeking, insecure girl who tries to hide her deeply felt need for love through provocative behavior and crude comments directed at those around her. Their first exchange hints at a compelling dynamic – she says she saw him skating and that he sucked; he replies with a terse fuck off.

This bond between two outcasts results in an unusual connection that will entwine their fates from that point forward. James, who sees Alyssa as a potential victim, does everything he can to keep her interested (the results are comical, such as during the kiss scene), while Alyssa sees in him a fellow rebel, someone she could fall for – the only person who allows her unrestrained freedom.

One day, the teens decide to run away from home together.

The End of the F***ing World is based on a comic book of the same title by Charles Forsman. Initially, Jonathan Entwistle – the showrunner and director of five out of eight episodes of the first season – created a short film adaptation titled TEOTFW, which served as the show’s pilot.

Even then (back in 2014), Jessica Barden was involved, though James was played by Craig Roberts (Neighbors). Over three years later, the title premiered on the UK’s Channel 4 and was met with such a warm reception that Netflix acquired the rights.

Interestingly, most of the crew behind The End of the F***ing World were at the start of their careers. Entwistle had previously made a few short films, Charlie Covell – who wrote the nearly flawless script – had one niche film (Burn Burn Burn) and a total of three episodes across Banana and Humans. The cinematographers, Justin Brown and Ben Fordesman, were somewhat more experienced, which is evident in the beautifully shot scenes, but that’s just another reason to give a standing ovation.

The show is rounded out by a very good soundtrack, largely mixing British post-punk with a few familiar pop hits that serve as a pleasant backdrop to the events on screen.

The series is very short but packed with substance. It’s just eight episodes of about 20 minutes each. For such a small time frame, The End of the F***ing World manages to pack in a surprising amount of content – not to mention the brilliantly depicted evolution of the main characters.

Who James and Alyssa are is clearly shaped by their past experiences. Who they become in each other’s presence is a fantastic and, in essence, complex visualization of natural social behaviors.

If I had to nitpick, I’d point to the lack of a clearly defined climax (unless one counts the events around the season’s midpoint, which force the protagonists to redefine their self-perception). Due to the wealth of content and limited time to present it, the story hurtles forward, slowing only during rare reflective moments – ultimately leading to a kind of viewer’s regret, having laughed hard and thoroughly enjoyed themselves, only to have it all abruptly end. At that point, the viewer realizes it’s over and can do little else but revisit The End of the F***ing World sometime later.