Serialized espionage thrillers aren’t likely to go out of style any time soon — or ever, if we’re being real — but this year especially has been good to lovers of the subgenre. 2024 has produced a bevy of great spy shows, from the latest season of Apple TV’s Slow Horses to Showtime’s adaptation of the French series, The Agency. TV fans are definitely spoiled for choice this season, especially with Netflix adding its own contribution to the bounty.
With such stiff competition elsewhere and a handful of familiar influences, it’d be natural to write Black Doves off as just another stuffy British spy drama. All the familiar elements are there: a clandestine organization coveting national secrets, a longtime spy torn between duty and their heart, and plenty of ruthless wild cards thrown in the mix. Black Doves also taps Keira Knightley and Ben Whishaw, neither of whom are strangers to spycraft.
The six-part series didn’t have to reinvent the wheel; in fact, it might have been easier to go on autopilot, delivering the sort of Netflix original you can binge in one weekend and promptly forget about. But Black Doves goes the other way, taking the best parts of its native genre and creating something sharp, fresh, and deeply evocative. It’s a far cry from the self-serious thrillers we may be used to: though Knightley and Whishaw get the chance to play against our expectations and deliver some blistering action scenes, their captivating characters also gets to have a bit of fun along the way.
Not unlike The Agency, Black Doves is a spy series that’s deeply invested in the interpersonal. Knightley is Helen Webb, an agent of the Black Doves who’s been in deep cover for close to a decade. Her mission is a simple one, and not without its perks. As the wife of UK Defence Minister Wallace Webb (Andrew Buchan), a charming, well-spoken Tory destined for an even higher office, Helen is privy to all kinds of political secrets. So long as she supplies her handler — the mysterious Mrs. Reed (Sarah Lancashire) — with a steady stream of behind-the-scenes intel, she’s basically free to live out her cushy life however she sees fit.
Helen’s made a great home for herself in central London as a result, complete with two unbearably sweet children, a circle of acquaintances, and enough glitzy social events to keep her busy. She’s also entrenched in an affair with a charming civil servant, Jason (Andrew Koji), a detail that threatens to topple 10 years of hard work.
When Jason and two of his associates are murdered on the same night at the exact same time, Helen’s real life and her carefully arranged cover are both poised to explode. As her handler, Reed knew all about Helen’s extramarital exploits — but she didn’t know just how much she cared for Jason. Jason’s murder and the mysteries surrounding it send Helen spiraling down a path for vengeance, forcing Reed to call in a triggerman (Whishaw) to keep Helen alive.
Whishaw’s Sam Young is easily one of the best parts of Black Doves. A no-nonsense contract assassin with secrets of his own, he’s a perfect match for Knightley’s Helen. Both are steely cool when the situation calls for it, but each can just as easily crack under the weight of internal pressure. While Helen grapples with grief — and confronts complicated feelings about her marriage — Sam is trying desperately to avoid his ex (Omari Douglas), one of two reasons he chose to leave England seven years ago. The other, a botched job for an assassin wrangler named Lenny Lines (Kathryn Hunter), essentially makes Sam persona non grata to the larger network of operatives in the city. He finds himself with a target on his back, making his task to protect Helen, solve her boyfriend’s murder, and make peace with his past that much more complicated.
Like Helen’s doomed relationship with Jason, Sam’s past life plays out in hazy, visceral flashbacks. The latter is admittedly more interesting than Helen’s affair, as Black Doves isn’t nearly as interested in who Jason actually was as a person. He’s both the dead significant other that haunts the narrative, and a cog in a sprawling plot that involves a Chinese ambassador, his missing daughter, and a rival syndicate of spies — and neither role makes good use of Koji’s inimitable screen presence. If Black Doves had one flaw, it’d be its use (or rather misuse) of some of Britain’s best talent. Koji isn’t the only one relegated to a frustratingly minor role: the series also features fantastic actors like Paapa Essiedu and Nathan Stewart-Jarett, though neither gets much to do in the grand scheme. Even Hunter’s Lenny Lines is a bit underused.
In the process of building out a sprawling underworld filled with spies, assassins, and conflicting motives, Black Doves doesn’t always move at a measured pace. That strain manifests more and more as the conspiracy around Jason’s murder crystallizes, but it’d likely be way more frustrating with Knightley and Whishaw in the lead roles. Their sardonic rapport — explored both in flashbacks and in present day — is the perfect grounding force for such an ambitious series. Even when plot threatens to get in the way, it always comes back to the personal connection between Helen and Sam, a connection that brings a surprising amount of levity to this dark, stirring series, and makes its byzantine journey completely worthwhile.
