Misfits (2009)

Misfits Episode 2.07 Review

Jesus, Santa and the alien baby.

Imagine the Nativity rewritten in blood from the veins of a crack whore and you'll get somewhere near the Christmas special-cum-season finale of Misfits (E4). Throwing in everything from a randy Santa having it away with a distinctly unvirginal Mary (pillow talk ran to 'I don't want to poke the baby in the eye') to Faustian pacts with the devil, this was a delirious two-fingered antidote to the smothering sanctimony of Christmas carols with Aled Jones.

Yet among the deliciously blasphemous dialogue ('OMG we killed Jesus!') and might-come-in-handy sex tips (you'll never suck a Fisherman's Friend in quite the same way again), this cooking-on-acid superpowers saga strung together a cogent narrative on the nature of accepting yourself for who you are. The Misfits gang, having grown weary of the pressures piled on them by being in possession of superpowers, decide to flog their talents to a dodgy dealer. Only to find 'normal' life is just as traumatic.

This was a riff on Saint Joni Mitchell's axiom 'you don't know what you've got till it's gone'. Mitchell was singing about paving paradise, the Misfits were more intent on getting their ends away, but the common coin was the search for fulfilment, a salutary reminder you should appreciate what you've got while you've got it, because you never know how long it will last.

That this clever seasonal message pastiche came gift-wrapped in fabulous filth was simply a bonus. Forget loaves and fishes, here we had a Jesus whose miracle-working ran to teleporting guns out of the hands of muggers. Only he wasn't Jesus, he was a conman intent on getting his devious mitts on all the powers he could and then passing them off as his own. Read into that what you will. Best of all, this personal Jesus gave the Misfits a focus for their collective angst and a perfect cliff on which to hang a third series. For which we should be truly thankful.

Misfits series 2 episode 7 review

If you're wondering how a genre show can successfully straddle both the cult and mainstream, then this is it. Smart, snappy, confident and tightly written, Misfits is the show that comic fans never knew they wanted. And for my money, the best thing (bar Doctor Who) to have happened to TV all year.

Misfits 2.7 review

A fine end to what's been a great second year, even if half its episodes were comparatively weak because that mid-series "trilogy" was extraordinarily good.

"So - being Santa sucks a big fat cock!" Yes, it can only be the Misfits Christmas Special. Now they've been de-asbo-ed, Alisha and Curtis have bar jobs, Kelly picks up rubbish, Simon is working on his superhero skills and Nathan, of course, is a bad Santa. That is, until they start selling their powers off to raise a bit of extra Christmas money, and those powers pop up in a place they shouldn't be. The greatest Christmas special ever? Possibly.

Misfits 2.6 review

The finale was unfortunately a dud comparable to last week's episode, which means Misfits had a mid-series run of extraordinarily fantastic episodes, capped by two hours that failed to intensify and conclude the year's story.

Misfits series 2 episode 6 review

With its usual combination of great dialogue, comedy and suspense, this should have been fantastic. If only it wasn't for such a cop out ending...

Misfits Series 2, Episode 6 review

Last night saw the final episode of this fantastic second series of Misfits. It was a real mixed bag, with some of the best moments of the entire run but a less than satisfying conclusion.

Though it's back for a special episode next week, this is technically the end of series two and, fittingly, it is one of the best yet. A boy with the ability to move milk ("I call it lacto-kinesis") goes public with his powers, dragging our regular Misfits out of the superhero closet with him. But fame doesn't go as well as they hoped, and Milk Boy's "shittest power ever" turns out to be more dangerous than they could have imagined. With some brilliant lines, stunning emotional scenes and the visual confidence of a Hollywood film, we can only pray for a third series.

The improbable heroes find themselves in the most unpleasant predicament yet: cowering in a five-star hotel while the press clamour outside, desperate for an exclusive with the "Asbo Five", whose superpowers have been discovered and fame and fortune beckon. Alas, as ever, nothing is as straightforward as it seems and before long they're the targets of a killer with freaky faculties. It's a typically gripping finale of a second series as slick as a Hollywood blockbuster, wittier than most sitcoms and brilliantly dark.