Crushing On A Creeper
Simon transforms from nightmare fodder to Misfits MVP before Leigh-Ann's very eyes.
In wrapping up the first season and devouring the second, I've (very nearly) processed a dizzying array of plot developments. Things have taken an entertaining up-turn since my first Diary post. Yet another probation officer is killed. Nathan encounters a mind-controlling infant and, later, becomes an adoptive father to an entirely different baby. Downton Abbey's Lady Sybil founds a cult of pastel-wearing prudes who go on a Twilight Zone-esque citywide purifying rampage. There's still more burying, transporting, and burying of bodies. Curtis loses not one but two beautiful girlfriends (one of them fatally). The gang sells their powers, then buys new ones. Oh, and Kelly unwittingly has sex with a gorilla -- a storyline which provides my favorite deadpan Kelly-ism to date: "I don't eat fruit." Cool, cool....
But I came here to talk about Simon. At first, he sports a haircut fit only for covering The Mark of The Beast, buttons his top button, and carries a briefcase -- all signs that a dude is definitely going to become a serial killer. He silently goes around filming everyone, becomes an accidental murderer, schedules lunchtime with his victim's frozen corpse, and has a psych-ward past. This is all not great. But then, something happens at the end of the first season. He has this exchange with Nathan about the aforementioned virgin cult.
Simon: It's the storm.
Nathan: How do you know that? You don't know that!
Simon: When weird stuff happens, it's always the storm. Haven't you worked that out yet?
It leads me to a bit of a revelation: I guess I find him being the lone voice of reason to be kinda sexy.
And then comes the big Season 2 plot twist. Okay: learning that Simon was, in fact, the mysterious masked crusader who's been going around saving the gang from peril wasn't that much of a shock to me. The show had been building up the "Who dat ninja?" suspense for a while, and I'd already guessed that it had to be a double of one of the ASBO 5. Duh, he was the only one who fit the build. No: the real surprise is how damn good Future Simon looks coming out of the shower during the big reveal scene. All of a sudden, it's like, "Hellooo, low-slung sweatpants!" He puts the moves on Alisha and, I swear, I hadn't felt so twitterpated about a TV relationship since Buffy and Spike (Angel fans can go kick rocks). No joke, I watched S02E03 two times in a row. Is it going too far to comment that this episode would make a far better marital aid than Stendra -- which Hulu incessantly advertises -- ever could?
Sadly, Future Simon is short-lived. Nonetheless, I, like Alisha, learned to shift my attention onto the increasingly less creepy Present Simon. Seeing him sharing Echo & The Bunnymen through an earbud with his prospective new love? That's like my high school dream right there! He's tender, attentive, and becoming quite the badass, what with his new subterranean bunker and increasing self-esteem. You even get used to all the staring. Who knew? Nathan comments, "He's like a handsome shark," and, for once, I agreed with the boy.
Speaking of Nathan: I'll cop to hating him less the more I watch. When he sweetly (for him) confesses his affection to the cult-brainwashed Kelly, I think I saw the first glimmer of some redeeming quality there. I mean, I wasn't thrilled when, at the end of the first season, it's revealed that his power is immortality. It's like, "Ugh...now, I will never be rid of his mouth!" and then, "Oh, great, now it's official; everyone has a better power than poor Alisha!" But when he's zapped into thinking he's in love with Simon and hilariously attempts to woo him with "Careless Whispers," I realized I can't stay mad at the guy. After all, he's a reliable fountain of one-liners: "When you're ready, we can do some dry-humping. Call me!"
Over the course of these latest nine episodes, my favorite recurring feature has been how relatively comical each "Big Bad" is. A sensitive tattoo artist-turned-homicidal maniac is ultimately thwarted by his own nut allergy (and that slow-mo flying peanut was giggle-worthy). A videogame junkie very nearly kills everyone because he thinks he's in an IRL Grand Theft Auto-type game. And then, there's the murderous barista who abuses his power to control dairy products. These cheeky, unexpected twists on the average villain have helped me to stick around.
My only real beef at this point is that the gang is so much more physical than mental. Nathan's always going to the bathroom; Kelly's always drinking, smoking, and brawling; Alisha's always texting and pouting; and everyone's always sexing. The part of my brain that refuses to remember that this is just a TV show is vexed that no one, besides Simon, ever entertains the notion of harnessing their powers, or trying to get to the bottom of what's going on.
I also want to see them grapple with the effects of the repeated major blows to their personal lives. Nathan discovers he has a secret half-brother, loses him in a freak(y) fire, learns that he can communicate with ghosts, and patches up old grievances with his estranged father, all in the span of, like, thirty-six hours. Now, you'd think this would add some depth to his character, but no. He's glossed over it by the next episode. Likewise with Curtis and his murdered lover. She's killed right before his eyes. He cries and thrashes about a bit, but the next thing you know, there's wisecracking and Christmas carol singing. The group's propensity for partying in the face of life-altering chaos is so "Buffy At The Bronze." Imma need to see some mild-to-severe depression here, guys. Maybe once they've wallowed in some Bruce Wayne-style brooding, they can finally become the real superheroes I'm hoping to see in Season 3.
Episodes Left To Watch
Leigh-Ann's Misfits Marathon Diary
Leigh-Ann wanted to see what all the fuss about this British import was. But will she get on board?
- The Mutants Of Misfits Walk Among Us
- Crushing On A Creeper
- Quit Playing (Time-Traveling) Games With My Heart
- Out With The Old, In With The…Oh, Who Cares?
- Misfits’s Sigh-Worthy Final Season