Random Thought Before Bed: The World's End vs. Spaced

After a two-day-long Netflix binge, I’ve come to the conclusion that The World’s End is intended to be a kind of thematic conclusion to Spaced, the British television series that Simon Pegg, Edgar Wright, and Nick Frost worked on before Shaun of the Dead made them all Hollywood hotshots. After all, The World’s End is a brutally honest examination of the dangers of nostalgia: Pegg’s character, Gary King, wants to recreate the one magic moment in 1990 when, fresh out of high school with the promise of freedom stretched out before him, he felt truly alive and whole; his journey reaches its end only when he acknowledges the potential for self-destruction inherent in this foolish desire.

Spaced, on the other hand, is built entirely on a foundation of nostalgia value. Every episode is packed full of pop culture references, with entire scenes and lines of dialogue lifted directly from Star Wars, RoboCop, Goodfellas, and The Shining. Unlike the “parody” movies produced by Friedberg & Seltzer or the very worst episodes of Family Guy, however, these winks and nods arise organically from the characters—lazy, directionless twenty-somethings desperately trying to make sense of the customs and rituals of the big, scary real world (job hunting, paying rent, etc.); it’s only natural that they’d use fond childhood memories as a security blanket to cope with the pressures of adult responsibility (I can relate).

The World’s End, while not outright attacking this sort of attitude, seems to argue that, eventually, we all have to move on. At age forty, it’s time to grow up, stop treating life like a nonstop party, and figure out what you can contribute to society (as it turns out, Gary has quite a significant role to play in the world following the events of the main plot). Likewise, after making a career of engaging in a larger cultural conversation (which would include the retro game aesthetics of Scott Pilgrim and the genre deconstruction in Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz), it would appear that Wright, Pegg, and Frost have decided to symbolically shut the door on Spaced/their youth in order to rediscover and reestablish their voices as exciting, innovative storytellers.

Whatever projects Wright, Pegg, and Frost may take on down the road—we already know that Wright will be directing Ant-Man for Marvel (an exciting prospect considering the degree of creative freedom the studio tends to give its storytellers; you’d never mistake Iron Man 3 for anything other than a Shane Black film), while it’s a safe bet that Pegg will continue to shine in the Star Trek and Mission: Impossible franchises—I certainly hope that the end of the “Three Flavours Cornetto Trilogy” does not also represent the end of this dynamic trio’s collaborative efforts. The journey from Spaced to The World’s End has been a fascinating one, and I’d personally love to see it continue until… well, until the world comes to an end.

Recently Viewed: The World's End (2013)

I feel as though I'm not fully prepared to write a proper review of The World's End. The previous entries in Edgar Wright's "Three Flavours Cornetto Trilogy" (Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz) are so dense with subtle setups and clever payoffs that the experience of watching one of them isn't really complete until you've seen it a second time--possibly even a third or fourth. Recurring images and lines of dialogue enrich every subsequent viewing, while the visual motifs that bridge the three films (from the rapid pace of the editing to the iconic fence-hopping gag) reward longtime fans.  Of course, The World's End is more than a mere regurgitation of familiar jokes and situations; it builds upon the foundation of what came before. An integral part of that winning formula has always been the chemistry between stars Simon Pegg and Nick Frost, and this time around, the two actors/bros-for-life discover the series' most emotionally complex, challenging characters by swapping their usual archetypes. Pegg's Gary King is his least sympathetic role thus far, a slacker, Hell-raiser, and all-around loser desperate to recapture the (illusory) glory of his youth, regardless of the cost to himself and those around him. Frost's Andrew Knightley, the sober, well-adjusted straight man, once considered Gary his closest friend, loved him like a brother, but has come to resent his lack of maturity and responsibility. When the members of their high school quintet reconvene after twenty-something years to attempt their hometown's legendary pub crawl, only to discover that all of their old acquaintances have been replaced by robotic doppelgängers, Gary and Andy find their tumultuous relationship rekindled and retested over the course of one wild night as they drunkenly fight to survive--and, possibly, prevent a full-scale extraterrestrial invasion. This careful attention to characterization ensures that the humor is never forced, instead arising organically from the legitimately dramatic conflict. I eagerly look forward to revisiting The World's End and unearthing its hidden nuances--just as I sincerely hope that Pegg, Frost, and Edgar Wright will someday revisit their Cornetto Universe and transform it into something more than a loose trilogy (indeed, the closing moments of this "finale" practically demand to be expanded upon).