The End of The F***ing World: Moonrise Kingdom With Murderous Rage

From the moment The End of the F***ing World opens with an emotionless James (Alex Lawther) sitting in a darkened room internally explaining, “I’m James, I’m seventeen and I’m pretty sure I’m a psychopath,” we know we’re in for something that Wes Anderson would approve of, but could never himself fully execute. As the ironic tune of Bernadette Carroll’s “Laughing On the Outside” plays to James walking down the suburban street of his South England town, we get the sense that there is no lonelier youth in the area. That is, until we meet Alyssa (Jessica Barden), a rebellious rage-ridden sort who is, as one bloke she briefly toys with the notion of seducing puts it, “Almost pretty, but actually, average… I mean, like she’s fine. She’s fine. She’s just not, like, a model, you know?” It is this “secret weapon” of hers–her mum additionally says looking better in person than in photos is as well–that gets her and James pretty far on their increasingly Bonnie and Clyde journey. Or rather, Sam (Jared Gilman) and Suzy (Kara Hayward) absconding. To be sure, there’s far more innocence to the preadolescent runaways of 2012’s Moonrise Kingdom, but had they reached their thresholds at seventeen, they, too, would probably see fit to kill a man that got in their way. Because these two pairs of prototypes are seeking something far more important than money: independence. A concept that youths naively believe isn’t contingent upon money.

And yet, sometimes the feeling of oppression far outweighs the as of yet unfelt consequences of poverty and living on one’s wits alone. For Alyssa, her mother Gwen’s (Christine Bottomley) overt favoring of her new batch of children–twins with her latest predatory and abusive husband, Tony (Navin Chowdhry)–has become unbearable. Worst of all, Gwen makes it seem as though everything is peachy keen, as though she hasn’t totally neglected Alyssa in a way that’s almost as hurtful as her father Leslie’s (Barry Ward) literal abandonment. Hence, her snapping at Gwen whenever she does remember that she exists with such digs as, “Why are you talking like Downton Abbey?” Suzy also bears a similar grudge against both of her parents, experiencing the effects of being overlooked as a result of having two younger brothers and her mother’s affair (try to suspend disbelief about Frances McDormand attracting deux hommes, as they’re Bill Murray and Bruce Willis).

And when girls of this nature–alienated with nothing to lose–have been pushed to the brink, they’re bound to take rash action. Usually the type that a boy can serve as a catalyst for. After smashing her smartphone because a “friend” texts her when she’s right in front of her at the lunch table, Alyssa approaches James and forces a rapport. In him she sees an outsider as ostracized as she is and in her, he sees someone he can kill. That’s right, James has grown wary of settling for the killing of mere animals, and wants to graduate to something more satisfying. So he goes through the motions of pretending to fall in love with her, his voiceover plotting, “I knew that people in love went out on dates. She said yes.” So to the American-themed diner they go. To this point, the pastiche of American couple crime movies is omnipresent throughout The End of the F***ing World. Alyssa even gets meta with this fact after James crashes the car and asks, “Do you think it’s gonna explode?” She rolls her eyes at his constant naïveté, stating, “It’s not a film. If this were a film, we’d be American.”

And indeed, The End of the F***ing World in its comic book form–created by Charles S. Forsman–is meant to be set somewhere in the Midwest. Thus, for as British as the show is (Graham Coxon composed all the original music just to give you an idea of the level of Britishness), the influence of “out West lawlessness” is everywhere. Just as it is showcased in True Romance and Natural Born Killers, there is a bond that forms between the couple that has committed one or more gruesome crimes together. Alyssa, in her oversexed state, can’t see that just yet. But she begins to in another early stage of their misdeeds motivated by retribution for the creepy behavior of middle-aged white men. To be more specific, she catches the man who has agreed to pick them up hitchhiking fondling James in the bathroom of a restaurant and then demands his wallet or she’ll find his wife and kids and tell them all about it.

It is this infusion of unexpected justice-exacting that brings what would otherwise be written off as another tale of two overly emotional, hyper-reactive teens that helps anchor the sympathy and compassion one has for Alyssa and James. Yet, for a brief period, Alyssa is suddenly the one who has no emotion for James, closing herself off in the wake of the stabbing of Clive Koch (Jonathan Aris), the rapist/murderer whose house they break into to seek refuge. It’s as though, all of the sudden, she sees him with new eyes that don’t idealize him quite so much, intuiting that there’s something not quite right about him that would compel him to carry a hunting knife at all times. After all, it’s not like he’s a member of the Khaki Scouts like Sam is–he’s not supposed to be savvy in these arenas. Nonetheless, just like Suzy, she ultimately remains faithful and devoted to the boy she began this quest with. A quest they must stay on now that the wheels have been set irrevocably in motion–even if said wheels happen to be stolen.

What it comes down to with this series and the Wes Anderson neo-classic is this: 1) the rule-breaking duo’s mutual taste in music is going to create a fantastic getaway soundtrack and 2) you can’t keep apart two social pariahs that have at last found their match. No matter how many authority figures you sick on them.