Most heist thrillers, for all their varying plotlines, follow a pretty similar chronology. The scene is set, the plan for the break-in is outlined, the heist is executed (with something inevitably going wrong), and the fallout ensues. Predictable, maybe, but from Money Heist to Prison Break, it’s a pretty surefire way to build a gripping drama.
Culprits, however, picks up where many of its genre-mates end. The eight-part Disney+ series introduces us to a crew of elite criminals three years on from a high-stakes robbery in London, led by notorious mastermind (and sporter of the chicest bob of all time) Dianne Harewood (Gemma Arterton).
The gang have all gone their separate ways, and are trying their best to leave their old lives behind. For his part, our main man Joe Petrus (Nathan Stewart-Jarrett) is living the suburban American dream – engaged to his fiancé Jules (Kevin Vindal), stepdad to Frankie and Bud, and starting a business converting a disused hardware store into a bar in his sleepy town.
This idyll doesn’t last long as signs that Joe’s past life is not as far behind him as he hoped: he starts being followed as he picks his children up from school, strange cars park outside his house. And then, his fears are confirmed when he receives a message from one of his former crew, saying that a mysterious assassin is hunting down and killing off the group one by one.
He is forced to come clean to Jules – the American accent, the tragic orphan backstory, the good guy persona have all been a cover for a murky life of crime and murder that Joe must now return to his native London to try and fix.
At this point, the audience is still pretty much in the dark about the details of the heist itself. We are drip-fed the lead-up, as well as the goings on of the surviving crew members, as the action flits between “Before” “Then” and “Now”.
“We’re going to be f***ing with some very serious people”, Arterton and her bob inform us. F***ing with, and robbing, it transpires: the plot is to steal £100 million from a mysterious vault, owned by some nefarious “fat cats”, for reasons that will become clear only if you stay right until the end (it's worth it).
The jumbled chronology takes a little while to get used to, but once the confusion subsides, it actually works very well in maintaining intrigue. Are the murders an inside job? Who is double-crossing whom? What’s the motive behind all of this? How does Gemma Arterton never age? All pressing questions.
This is not a show for the faint of heart wich characters brutally stabbed to death, burnt alive, and shot in the head. However, Culprits does not merely rely on bountiful blood and gore to do its heavy lifting. A stellar cast of old and new faces elevates already watertight scripting and cinematography.
Arterton is predictably fabulous as the stylish, no-nonsense heist leader (the St Trinians nostalgia is palpable), as is Stewart-Jarrett, flitting effortlessly between carrying the high-octane scenes and the more intimate moments of domesticity.
Newcomer Tara Abboud also delivers a masterclass as Azar, unexpectedly stealing every scene she is in with the flair of a seasoned professional.
Slick, chic and blood-soaked, Culprits is a triumph on every metric – it’s impossible to take your eyes off, even if you’re peering through your fingers. Now, I’m off to get myself a bob.
