This serialization of an independent comic is a successful show, peppered with British black humor, in which the characters seem absurd but grow over the course and gain traction in a real world. This balancing act of artistic exaggeration and opportunity for identification is well done.

The actors are indeed well-chosen almost all around. Lawther manages to convincingly portray the development of a self-diagnosed psychopath into a cranky but basically very empathetic person over the various stages of the series. As a viewer, you still have a hard time forgiving James for the murders of the animals he started in his childhood, but through the narration you at least grasp the actual change in his nature that he had to go through even before the plot begins, namely through the suicide of his mother. Jessica Barden manages to do the same with her character, even if the nuances here are not so bumpy purely from the script, but rather fluidly given. Alyssa retains her basic characteristics through and through and actually gains in personality density exclusively. She also becomes more empathetic, self-reflective and gains the sensible insight to accept help from friends and move away from the supposed but imprisoning help from selfish figures like her parents. Throughout, both the original and the film version seem to succeed in illuminating the importance of interpersonal interaction, especially in the failure of the same.

The second season is inferior to the first in bulk, but manages to bridge the gap between the two stages of the story through subtext and especially the ending. Naomie Ackie as Bonnie, one of the three creepiest characters in the series (along with the murdering professor and his deranged mother), doesn't quite manage to foreground her character's importance to the development of Alyssa and James. Her interpretation of the role seems too adapted to cliché images of the outsider psychopath.

In any case, the compilation of the soundtrack and the cinematography, which manages to flawlessly switch from the intimate interior view of the actors to the larger panoramic theme of the series, deserve praise.

"The End of the F***ing World" is ultimately a series that almost managed to ascend into the realms of cinematic grandeur, only to fail on minor details. Nevertheless, what remains is a series that tells an extraordinary coming-of-age story in wonderful pictures, which quite surprisingly successfully avoids the debris field of the genre's cherished clichés - a depressing series that gives courage and comes up with a happy ending that could not have been more realistic and at the same time more romantic in a fantastic way.