Slow Horses, Black Doves… there’s a theme developing here. And not just because they’re both espionage shows. Yes, of course they’re both espionage shows but they also both boast two-word titles beginning with an adjective to describe animals. Whatever next? Irritating Otters? Deadly Pangolins? Lazy Sloths?
All joking aside, this year’s hottest sub-genre of crime drama is espionage – The Day Of The Jackal, The Agency, the aforementioned Slow Horses and now this. There’s probably another article about the resurgence of the espionage series, but until that time let’s concentrate on this new Netflix six-parter.
Looking at Black Doves from the outside in, you’re immediately blown away by the leading triumvirate of actors in the lead roles – Keira Knightley (always underrated, I’ve always thought and here in her first ever TV role), Ben Whishaw and Sarah Lancashire – and the man who wrote it, the brilliant Joe Barton (writer of Giri/Haji, a Killing Times Crime Drama Of The Year from the recent past). What on earth could go wrong?
Thankfully, it delivers in spades.
Knightley plays Helen Webb, the sparky, smart and dutiful wife of Defence Secretary, Wallace Webb (Andrew Buchan). As they prepare for Christmas (yes, this is very much a seasonal show), on the South Bank by the river Thames a Chinese-British man is taken out by a hitman. The two people he’s frantically speaking to on the phone at the time of his death are also assassinated more or less at the same time.
The man – Jason – was some sort of civil servant, and his death caused furrowed brows in the intelligence community. So much so, Helen is visited by a woman called Mrs Reed (Lancashire), who informs her that this man – Jason – is dead. And, furthermore, she should have been conducting an affair with this man. The icy, matter-of-fact Reed then asks Helen – who is now cooling back tears – what on earth she thought she was playing at, having an affair with this man. Helen answered it was because of love.
Reed is shocked and taken aback. It’s soon imparted that Reed is the head of an organisation called Black Dove – a network of spies and hitpeople who gather information for the highest bidder. They have to be ruthless, they kill and they do have no moral scruples, so when Helen says she fell in love, it’s met with a huff and a snort from the cynical Reed.
It’s something that is often explore throughout the series – how something so innocent and honest and pure as love can exist in a world when there is no honesty. Or at least a different kind of honesty.
It’s then revealed that Helen works for the Doves, and is, in fact, the organisation’s highest-ranking, deep-cover operative – so deep she has married and and had two children with her mark. But all the while she’s feeding back information to Reed.
Heartbroken at her lover’s demise, against Reed’s wishes, she swears vengeance on those who killed Jason. But it’ll be tough – she still has to be a mother and a wife (albeit the wife of a man who is generally not at home), and she has Reed’s babysitter to contend with.
Sam (Whishaw) is a hitman who has worked with Helen some years before but fled the country after his true job was exposed to his partner, Michael, in explosive and terrifying fashion. But now he’s back in London and he’s asked with making his sure his old pal is not only safe but also not intent on exposing her identity or making any missteps.
Except… that as Same begins to investigate what really happened to Jason and why, Helen can’t resist. Which means that there’s plenty of opportunity for almost farce-like situations at home – taking on hitmen in her kitchen while her kids are upstairs, galivanting around the capital fighting people while her husband is in high-level cabinet meetings?
All this is happening against the backdrop of tensions between the UK and China, mainly because the Chinese ambassador has been murdered and his daughter is missing. And you better believe that Jason’s death is connected.
It’s a fun set-up and you get the sense that Whishaw (on very droll an brilliant form) and Knightley (having equal amounts of fun) as they rampage around the capital shooting things, shooting people, making people’s heads explode (!) and generally causing mayhem. On this journey, we get to find out the reason why Sam left London all those years ago, his vulnerabilities and his failing ruthlessness as a hitman (or triggerman as he calls it in this series), and Whishaw is just perfect for giving this brilliant character plenty of emotional depth and nuance.
Yes, it’s a little bit convoluted at times and gets a bit too weighed down with peeling back the layers until the big reveal near the end. But really, Black Doves is insanely entertaining high-tempo fun. Its success is obviously aided by the genuinely A-list cast who delivers on cue, but some of the dialogue is just sparkling – thought-provoking and sometimes laugh-out-loud funny (the tone of this is very much like Slow Horses in the sense it mixes genuine jokes with quilt action and intrigue).
Joe Barton once again produces something very, very good with more than a passing nod to the graphic novel, but what he does well is give the whole story some pathos and a few reflective moments – on living a clandestine life that keeps pulling you back in, and of love. The power and burning brightness of love.
Black Doves is big, bold, cinematic, heaps of fun and a real Christmas treat.
Paul Hirons
