The End of the F-ing World: Art vs. Popularity on Netflix

The idea that a show called The End of the F-ing World could skyrocket into the mainstream world was a foreign idea 15 years ago, but the rise of Netflix has bridged the gap between what is artistic and what is fashionable.

Netflix has had interesting content model over the past couple of years.

Other than giving second life to failing network shows, they produce these big shows with big names (i.e. Bloodline, Orange is the New Black, Stranger Things, BoJack Horseman, and the continuation of the Marvel franchise comes to mind) and put a jetpack on them in terms of advertising. This type of production has rarely faltered, and they have a good grasp on what is good and what isn’t.

Under the surface, however, they have continuously put out very interesting concept shows: smaller stuff in a more Independent vein, foreign shows that highlight humor styles from other countries, quirky animated shows, etc… In a sense, they are able to produce shows that, for one reason or another, simply wouldn’t work on network programming. It breeds creative life, and it gives them an opportunity to see how many people are willing to take the plunge into the obscure.

The two styles finally met when The End of the F-ing World was released on January 5.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbiiik_T3Bo

The End of the F-ing World is a teenage love/road trip story dripping with dark humor, absurdity, intensity, and violence.

James (Alex Lawther) and Alyssa (Jesse Barden) are both high school loners in England, seemingly happy with their lots in life, secretly wanting so much more. What they are each looking for internally is the point of emphasis.

The description of the show and trailer depict a show about a young psychopath more interested in taking down his first victim on a long road trip rather than lose his virginity to her. She’s enamored with him. He wants to kill her. That’s the catch.

Nothing in The End of the F-ing World happens in the traditional sense.

James’ father is kind and nice, so James assaults him, robs him, and hits the road with his outlandish girlfriend.

Alyssa hopes that her looks and promiscuity can rope James into sex, but he instead wants to stab her.

We find ourselves cheering on someone who tortured and murdered animals and hating an adult woman trying to stop their crime spree and call the police.

Even the side characters and their side plots are curiosities. They add color to the world instead of divert your attention. For instance, detectives Eunice Noon (Gemma Whalen) and Teri Darego (Wunmi Mosaku) try to solve the case involving these two kids while coming to grips with the fact that they had sex. They portrayed these two lesbians in a way that has traditionally been held for heterosexual people.

From the beginning, everything points at James being the most interesting part of the film. And it’s all wrong.

Alyssa is the true star. Her home life involves a shitty, abusive father-in-law and a mother that sits back and lets it all happen, which makes her just as infuriating. She lashes out at anyone and everyone she can just to feel something, no matter the consequences of doing so. When we finally get to the end of the road trip to see her father, her supposed saving grace, we’re just thrust deeper into disappointment.

Both characters have had their psyches marred by trauma, and we’re able to follow along as they seek out catharsis.

It has the feel of a long indie flick more so than a hit show, but this is where we are in 2018.

The most disheartening thing about The End of the F-ing World is that it is listed as season one, as opposed to being labeled as a miniseries. I know that isn’t a fair criticism since that is always the case for Netflix and the labeling of a miniseries, but it keeps that door slightly cracked.

You get snippets of James and Alyssa’s pasts all throughout the series, yes, and they are integral to understanding the characters, but the show really begins when they meet, and it ends when they seemingly depart, leaving a bit of room for ambiguity.

Does he die? Does he escape on the boat? Is Alyssa taken to prison, or will all of the fault fall squarely on James?

The simple answer is that it doesn’t matter.

And you know what? That’s okay.

The show isn’t about what happens to them in the end.

It’s about their journey and search for the love that has so far eluded them throughout their lives.

When did we as viewers begin to need every little thing spoon fed to us?

Why can’t an artist put their work out to critical acclaim and refuse to give in to the pressure of exploiting it for more money?

Luckily for those who like the story as is, the creator of the show, Jonathan Entwistle, was non-committal on expanding to a second season:

“We’re exploring and we’re seeing what we can do to expand the world and see where we get to. But we conceived the show as, in a way, as a movie; a movie in structure. And I think that that is something we’re going to have to expand if we want a bigger story.”

The End of the F***ing World is a triumphant success. It’s a dark, brooding comedy about murder, love, passion, and virginity. By every metric, it should have come and gone underneath the surface, but it has burst onto the scene and thrived.

Maybe the world really is changing.

Or maybe the world really is fucking ending.