You can look at the penultimate episode of Misfits in two ways. Either it’s an exploration of self-perceived roles of masculinity and femininity in 21st century society or, far more likely, it’s just about one Northern man’s furious mission to reclaim his missing genitals.

Whichever way you approach it, it’s an interesting theme: two people, both feeling lost for different reasons, seeking to define themselves by their gender. Abbey, hit by The Storm and devoid of memory, hopes to forge an identity through the act of pregnancy and birth, while Alex searches desperately for his stolen crown jewels because he feels undefined and worthless as a human without the symbol of his manhood.

Problem is though, once Alex is reunited with his floppy friend the jigsaw puzzle is complete, and we all know what the 500 piece picture is that’s staring back at us: boring Geordie barman. What Alex sees as a deficiency is actually the one thing that keeps our interest in him, and after his dong-related denouement he’s now the equivalent of a human being made of unbuttered toast. Even Jess looks to be bored of him, in a sex scene with all the eroticism and thrusting passion of one of those novelty drinking birds lazily tapping away at a bowl of cold rice pudding.

Still retaining a cider-stained atmosphere of mystery, Abbey (Natasha O’Keefe) fares much better, although her Storm-induced memory loss is a cheeky bit of writing: this late in the series it feels like an excuse not to waste precious time coming up with backstory. However should Misfits return for a fifth series (and on the varied strength of this series some will doubt it has the propulsion in it) it leaves the writers with an enviously big blank canvas. Right now she’s a vessel for a personality as much as she is for the baby that the single-mum powers into her, but we can only hope that she becomes the dominant figure female the group has been lacking.

Yet no one, not even the newly emotionally vulnerable Rudy, can quite match the impact of Shaun Dooley, who has been quietly but furiously stealing scenes week after week as the bullet-faced Probation Greg. Since his appearance in episode 1 it feels like we’ve been watching a fantastic set-up to a punch-line, and here it is: karaoke style. Never has ‘The Power of Love’ been sung with such emotional heft. Hilarious and moving, like watching a clown being visited by the bailiffs, it’s almost hard to believe that the same writers who created the bland slice of hunk Alex made such an entertaining monstrosity as the Probation Worker.

Sadly there’ll be no encores as we race to an all out nun-nutting finale (a real shame as we reckon Greg would do a mean rendition of ELO’s ‘Telephone Line’ ). Can Episode 8 leave an uneven series on a high note? More importantly, can it give Jess, who’s increasingly felt like a waste of Karla Crome’s talent, something to do other than pout now that her boyfriend has his precious penis back?

Aired at 10pm on Sunday 9 December 2012 on E4.

> Buy the complete Series 1-3 boxset on Amazon.

> Order Series 4 on DVD on Amazon.

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