‘Everyone Else Burns’ takes a doomsday cult and makes it fun

In suburban England, a hilariously dysfunctional family is held together by their belief that the apocalypse is nigh.

A conservatively dressed man, woman and two children stand in a row, looking somewhat awkardly at the camera. Behind them is a cross.

The Lewis family in 'Everyone Else Burns'. Credit: James Stack / Channel 4

You’d never think that a religious sect obsessed with moral purity and a fiery, violent apocalypse could ever be as riotously funny as British comedy Everyone Else Burns makes it. Over a six-episode season, the show focuses on a family of four in suburban Manchester, who are long-time members of a doomsday cult that believes the end of the world is coming. And they’re an odd bunch: father David (Simon Bird) gets his kicks by making the family run early-morning apocalypse drills, while mum Fiona (Kate O’Flynn) sneaks out to watch TV. Teen daughter Rachel (Amy James-Kelly) is curious about going to uni and escaping, while primary school-aged son Aaron (Harry Connor) wis a true believer, who spends his spare time drawing uncomfortably elaborate renditions of people burning in hell – his father included. (“The other kids make fun of me,” he notes, “but in the afterlife, I’ll get to watch them burn.”)

A man and a boy, in suits, and carrying sachels, stand side by side outdoors, staring straight ahead.

Aaron (Harry Connor) and David (Simon Bird). Credit: James Stack / Channel 4

Being part of the “Order” (as the religious group is called) is a joyless life. They shun modern comforts like coffee and TV, while spending their spare time trying to convert local residents, asking “would you like to talk about God?”, and getting (mostly) angry swearing in return. As it’s described by one outsider, the Order is “like living in North Korea – but at least they get parades”.

Don’t let the potentially dark subject matter fool you: Everyone Else Burns is sharply funny, with a near-constant torrent of quips and one-liners. Yet it also offers thoughtful commentary about dogmatic adherence to a questionable belief system. David is probably the show’s biggest target in this respect: he’s blindly faithful and smugly confident that he’s the smartest, most capable person in the room, who thinks he knows exactly how the world will end, when it’ll happen, and how he’ll be spared from being melted in the End Times. With his cringeworthy bowl haircut – a true accomplishment by the show’s hair and makeup crew – he’s a pompous clown, so cartoonishly insufferable that he could make David Brent from The Office blush.

Intriguingly, while the show might use David as a way to critique people who stick to hard-nosed belief systems, it still manages to hold back from absolutely condemning him (and it’s a smarter, more meaningful half-hour of TV for this). David might be a bit of a hapless fool, but he’s not beyond redemption: He’s a tragic figure, a victim of overly rigid beliefs, and a failure to reflect on himself. And by extension, the show manages to avoid making cheap jokes at the expense of religion – while the Order seems to be loosely Christian, Everyone Else Burns doesn’t really get into the theology behind it all, allowing it to make razor-sharp commentary about the nature of unquestioning belief but without pointing and laughing at any particular religion, beyond the totally fictional Order. And it doesn’t need to point and laugh at religion – the show works brilliantly by gently ribbing David and his family’s dogmatism, without mocking or dragging real-world religious texts into it.

A woman sits on a couch in a dimly lit room, holding a cup on her lap.

Fiona (Kate O’Flynn). Credit: James Stack / Channel 4

Perhaps most surprisingly for a show that’s all about heavy topics like faith and religion, Everyone Else Burns also pulls off the surprising feat of being unexpectedly relatable. The dysfunctional family setting is a big part of this: father David is the kind of big-headed chauvinist we’ve all encountered somewhere in our lives, referring to his home as his “personal kingdom”. Mix him together with quietly rebellious daughter Rachel, misguided-but-well-meaning younger son Aaron, and bored wife Fiona, and it’s hard not to see them as a bit like a normal family who just can’t get along, even if they are obsessed with the apocalypse.

And while the family’s beliefs are outlandish, they’re still subject to the same everyday indignities as the rest of us: David can’t seem to get the leadership position that he craves in his church, yet he’s cursed with being exceptionally skilled as his menial job in a package-sorting centre. Meanwhile, Rachel suffers through her awkward teenage years, as she craves intimacy with a boy she meets while proselytising, but can’t seem to step outside of her own awkwardness to make it happen.

Taking topics like religion and the apocalypse and making them fun is a serious tightrope act – yet Everyone Else Burns does it with flair, and a good helping of pathos. If you’re in the mood for a sitcom with depth, look no further.

Everyone Else Burns is now streaming at SBS On Demand.