Black Doves ★★★★
Netflix

Black Doves is the British spy thriller I didn’t know I needed. That’s because as well as being a story about covert spooks, it’s also a melancholic examination of desire’s hold, a body count banger with John Wick vibes, a ticking clock geopolitical drama, a farcical comedy of English manners, and a meditative dialogue about the killer’s creed. There’s probably another element or two I missed, but every time Ben Whishaw’s triggerman greeted Keira Knightley’s undercover operative with a “hello, darling!” I stopped keeping count.

Yes, that’s quintessential English rose Keira Knightley and the voice of Paddington Bear, Ben Whishaw. The casting of this six-part series is unconventional and to the credit of all involved it’s the narrative that changes shape, not the stars. After a tension-filled cold-open, where a trio of Londoners connected by an unknown thread is done away with, Black Doves takes shape around survival and vengeance. But from the second episode on, it keeps opening unexpected new fronts. This caper is eclectic to the point of recklessness.

Knightley plays Helen Webb, the note-perfect wife of Tory cabinet minister Wallace Webb (Andrew Buchan). Helen has been spying on her own husband since she met him a decade prior, but when her lover is among the trio coldly killed, she goes in search of vengeance even if it means her own exposure. Helen’s worried boss, Reed (Sarah Lancashire), recalls from exile Helen’s old friend, contract killer Sam Young (Whishaw), to protect her. Soon they are trading bon mots and leaping from the window of an exploding building.

The show was created by Joe Barton, who previously made the quietly gripping Netflix crime drama Giri/Haji. What kept me watching was how seriously he treated each element, no matter how frayed the plausibility grew. The story is invested in Helen’s doubt about her true self. It’s also invested in Sam’s longing for his former lover, Michael (Omari Douglas), and Sam’s memories of his father and how he came to take lives for a living. Infiltrating the US embassy somehow squeaks in as well.

I suspect my liking of Black Doves will put me in the minority, but it eschews convention by being in turn bittersweet, gung-ho and philosophical. It doesn’t strain for effect – unless you count the rocket launcher – and the characters share dialogue that is never boilerplate. Plus, a pair of diffident female assassins steal every scene they’re in. That this all transpires in the lead up to December 25 might be its final defining twist. Perhaps after everything else, this caper is also a Christmas movie?

Earth Abides
Stan