Religions famously enjoy being made fun of. That’s why [very extended paragraph deleted on legal recommendation]! Don’t we? We all do that. But I am having a lot of fun with Everyone Else Burns, the new Channel 4 comedy (Monday, 10pm) that centres on a hyper-religious family in Greater Manchester. There’s a lot to like here – the Sex Education-style 70s-tinged aesthetic, the gloopy storytelling where episodes shrug into one another, a supporting cast of absolute British comedy bangers – but the main thing is: it remembers to be funny. Again and again. And – and I hope you’re ready for a rare balancing act – never punches down at religion. And lo, there was a miracle.
Let’s start with Simon Bird, the family’s bowl-cutted patriarch. As Will in The Inbetweeners and Adam in Friday Night Dinner he was excellent but essentially played the same character, which is “Person who says: ‘What on Earth are you doing?’ whenever someone else does something odd”. Now, he’s the freak: as David, he gets his family up for punishing 2am apocalyptic fire drills, is hated by the church he loves and doesn’t understand why his wife and daughter are drifting away from him. It’s been a while – I’d probably put it around Mark from Peep Show – but one of comedy’s great characters is “Man who is ruining his life by his dedication to diligently following the rules”, and Bird’s David fits neatly into that fine tradition.
The fear with a show like this – where the pitch is: “What if a family were weird?” – is it becomes one-note quite early on: here’s the dad being weird, look; here’s the mum being weird. What if the daughter were normal with a hint of weird? Well, then the son has to be doubly weird. And yes, there is a little of that. But the family’s performances – Amy James-Kelly’s knotted-brow teenage daughter Rachel, slowly pulling away from the idea of a religion that forbids caffeine and TV; youngest son Aaron, who keeps making crayon renderings of gruesome visions of hell, played eerily well by Harry Connor; and the brilliant Kate O’Flynn, who plays the yearning-for-more wife Fiona so well you figure they must have had to rejig the script to give her all the best lines (“David, if you’re going to scream you should do it into a pillow at home, it’s better for the kids”) – tamp down any threat of that. You’ve got two options for a comedy, really: reflect the reality of life in all its painful squirming glory; or invent a weird world and let weirdness reign supreme. Everyone Else Burns lands between the two, and feels bright and original and new as a result.
The supporting cast are another accomplishment: Morgana Robinson as the cheerfully straightforward “That’s a sin, is it?” neighbour; Lolly Adefope as a flatly northern, always vaping teacher; Al Roberts as a sort of Prof Brian Cox/youth pastor hybrid who’s addicted to cola; and I’ve never not enjoyed the wild turmoil Liam Williams brings to the screen. But Kadiff Kirwan is the standout: his beaming nice-guy charm contrasts so perfectly with Bird’s always-ready-to-escalate evangelist.
It would have been easy to bog Everyone Else Burns down with explaining theology then explaining how theology is wrong – but in the episodes I’ve seen religion is, well, not really in it. There are scenes at a nameless denomination of church, and the stringent but abstract scriptures are the motivation behind a lot of David’s more erratic behaviours but, at its heart, Everyone Else Burns is a family comedy that just happens to be flavoured by religion, rather than revolving round it.
If you’ll allow me a semi-bizarre zig into patriotism – I have arranged an RAF flyover to coincide with the exact moment you read this, don’t worry – there’s something oddly stirring about watching a great new British comedy. Everyone Else Burns does everything we’re good at without any syrupy tropes – just crackling dialogue over a soft-sided story that makes sense. Sometimes it’s easy to forget how good we are at this and ignore a new release for whatever glossy thing the streaming giants have put out this week – why yes, I am still annoyed that I watched Glass Onion! Thank you for asking actually! – but to miss Everyone Else Burns is to miss a rare treat.
