In a world where moral ambiguity reigns supreme, we meet Sam—an unapologetic assassin who insists, “I don’t kill anyone who doesn’t deserve it.” Portrayed by the talented Ben Whishaw, Sam is the eponymous “triggerman” in Netflix’s thrilling new series, *Black Doves*. Joined by the enigmatic Helen, whose real identity lies shrouded in secrecy and is brought to life with finesse by Keira Knightley, they form a duo entrenched within a covert agency reminiscent of a morally flexible spy network. But let’s not kid ourselves; the majority of Sam’s assignments revolve around executing the dirty work of drug lords, draping his profession in a veneer of justification.
As if that weren’t enough, winter brings another figure from the shadows—a hitman named Alex, played by Eddie Redmayne, in Peacock’s adaptation of Frederick Forsyth’s classic, *The Day of the Jackal.* Meticulously intricate in his methods, Alex is the sniper with a golden touch, balancing his lethal profession with a facade of normalcy. Nestled in a picturesque cliffside villa in Spain, he juggles family life with the chilling reality of his vocation. But here’s the catch—this idyllic existence is nothing more than a ticking time bomb, signaling the inevitable unraveling of a narrative long steeped in the familiar tropes of crime and spy fiction.
The enduring allure of hitmen within our cultural imagination is being mirrored in recent real-life events. The investigation into the murder of UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson has sparked a frenzy, as the alleged assassin has finally emerged from the shadows, drawing scrutiny about whether he could be the real-life equivalent of our fictionalized killers. Experts weigh in, claiming his methods were too cumbersome, too sloppily executed to belong to a seasoned pro. Perhaps the most disconcerting part? The way this narrative resonates with the public, who view the shooter through a lens crafted by their own frustration towards systemic failings, conflating vengeance with justice.
*Black Doves* skillfully juxtaposes its humor and irony; Knightley’s Helen occupies high political circles, tethered to a conservative minister poised for ascendance. In a masterstroke of satire, it’s the very defense minister—ostensibly the purest player in this murky game—who becomes her unwitting pawn. As Helen deftly extracts information from her husband, the series explores the absurdities of betrayal layered in domestic bliss. The unexpected twist? Helen’s quest for revenge throws her cozy life into disarray as her lover meets an untimely demise.
Knights steals the show, shifting effortlessly from a grieving widow to a calculating femme fatale. There’s a contrasting richness to her character, mirroring the careful choreography of an undercover agent. It’s this dexterity that allows her to target the flirty employee in her husband’s office, spotting the threat lurking behind the facade.
Meanwhile, Sam’s emotional landscape is equally intricate. He grapples with memories of his ex, Michael, the artist whose beauty haunts him at every turn. There he is, musing over his choices while delicately sipping a champagne flute in an upscale bar—an impressionistic portrait of a once-celebrated figure torn between love and duty. Their bond, a lifeline in a world otherwise steeped in violence, serves as the series’ emotional anchor, fending off the abyss that threatens to consume them both.
Unlike his cinematic counterpart Alex, Sam is far from invincible. He embodies the vulnerability of their shared ambition—those fleeting moments where professional grit spills over into personal sacrifice. The humor shines through as he and Helen navigate a landscape where murder becomes a mundane conversation, each grappling with their moral compasses as they dance on the precipice between right and wrong.
Yet, amid the spiral of chaos, questions linger: How far removed are we, the audience, from these larger-than-life narratives? We cheer for these iconoclasts, these purveyors of dark justice, as they craft their destinies in a world where the lines between hero and villain blur mercilessly. With a compelling amalgamation of personal stakes and professional camaraderie, *Black Doves* seamlessly intertwines its characters’ intricate lives, leaving us pondering the duality of humanity in the face of sin.
