“Human capital” is a curious term. How does one determine the “value” of an individual to their organization or country? Can an individual be valuable to a system when the system’s modus operandi ensures nobody is ever indispensable? No. So why all the pretense, then?
At first glance, one would not expect Slow Horses, the hilarious Apple TV+ spoof of British intelligence, to take a stab at answering such big political questions. Trailing a group of MI5 rejects stuck in bureaucratic hell but somehow still finding trouble more easily than their esteemed peers, Slow Horses looks like a straight-shooting fan pleaser: slick, funny, chock full of mayhem, with some unhinged farts from Gary Oldman on typically delicious form.
One would, however, be dead wrong to dismiss this most supremely expeditious thriller on television as nothing but “comedy” or the sum of its parts. Below the casually entertaining surface, in the words of Mick Jagger (who wrote the show’s theme song), there’s a “Strange Game” going on, and the fourth season, the show’s best yet, is a superb example of how to dive deeper without compromising on the heart and fun.
Created by former stand-up comedian and screenwriter Will Smith (The Thick of It, Veep), Slow Horses inconspicuously arrived on our screens in 2022; as an affably off-kilter take on the formulaic spy genre, with its deft combo of spy thrills and laughs, it instantly won over critics. The story of Jackson Lamb (Oldman), the deadbeat ringleader of Slough House, an administrative limbo for disgraced MI5 agents who ended up on the back burner, and his hapless cohort of losers, warmed our hearts, too. Beneath the horridly uninviting exterior and barrages of insults, Lamb, formerly the most revered and feared spook in the game, cares deeply for his associates, who prove themselves time and again more worthy than their fatted-up HQ counterparts in tailored suits.
Irreverent hotshot River Cartwright (Jack Lowden), taciturn Louisa Guy (Rosalind Eleazar), foul-mouthed Shirley Dander (Aime-Ffion Edwards), manchild Roddy Ho (Christopher Chung), and their quiet secretary Catherine Standish (Saskia Reeves), all coalesce around Lamb like family. A dysfunctional, down-on-their-luck family, but family nevertheless.
Two years and three strong seasons in, Slow Horses is continuously—and ambitiously—evolving. Never taking the foot off the action pedal and hearty laughs, it also introduces us to complicated friendships, convoluted familial relationships, and the intricate machinations of the spy world. Beyond the villainous conspiracies, shootouts, and chases (not to mention bouts of uproarious petty office bickering), a more sinister narrative emerges about how institutions like the MI5 disrespect and discard their associates, ultimately proving to be little more than coteries of competing individual interests.
As the audience numbers and set pieces grow, so do the show’s (and Mike Herrons’ books) appetite for proving itself as more than a smooth pastime. The third season, taking a turn toward the macabre and suggesting the real enemy might be within, bagged three Emmy nominations, the “important” ones – Outstanding Drama, Outstanding Lead Actor for Oldman, and Outstanding Supporting Actor for Lowden. Now, with another hugely satisfying yet curiously gut-wrenching batch of episodes, this anti-spy satire bares teeth and transforms into a uniquely thoughtful and well-rounded beast in a sea of boilerplate drama thrillers.
On the heels of its customary dramatic presto, Slow Horses Season 4’s “Spook Street” episode begins with a massive detonation. A suicide bomber sets off an explosion at the Westacres shopping center under orders from a mysterious person by the name of Robert Winters, and the wheels of the strange game start to turn. MI5’s Deputy Director General, Diana Taverner (a richly arrogant Kristin Scott Thomas), is outraged by the scale of the attack and enlists her A-team to investigate what seems to be a case of international terrorism. None of this serious counterintelligence work would normally have anything to do with the cast-off nobodies of Slough House, except – gasp – yet again, nothing is what it seems.
As Taverner’s cronies scramble to get leads on the supposed terrorist network, Cartwright’s grandfather, David (a stupendous Jonathan Pryce), a former MI5 legend now slowly disappearing into dementia, is visited by a man claiming to be his grandson. Confused and frightened, David shoots the man, igniting an avalanche of questions. Why would anyone pretend to be River Cartwright? What could they possibly want with an elderly man? Could this attack be connected to the terrorist network MI5 claims to be chasing?
So another web of heart-pounding cat-and-mouse chases kicks off. River Cartwright quickly moves David to Standish’s (who quit her job) apartment and covertly sets off to France. Meanwhile, Lamb has to deal with the new commander of Dogs (MI5’s tactical unit) and a new, overly pedantic secretary while sniffing for clues himself, sensing chicanery. Sure enough, Taverner doesn’t sit idle, instead discreetly tasking team members with… well, uncovering some stuff for a start.
The above is just the first 15 minutes of another taut, gripping, and smoothly delivered story from this realm of Slow Horses’ strange games. The plots and performances remain uniformly exquisite, and the newcomer Hugo Weaving chills as Frank Harkness, a former CIA operative, turned mercenary. While the laughs and the off-kilter commentary on the torpor of office dawdling remain bullseye this time, the layers of institutional skullduggery and personal tragedy really stick, taking the story in new, darker directions.
As Harkness’ agenda is gradually revealed, bodies will pile up in the nastiest of ways, and “collateral damage” will keep expanding to include growing numbers of civilians. Along the way, Taverner and MI5 will stop at virtually nothing to protect their personal and institutional interests, wringing a dog-eat-dog work ethic at the expense of their colleagues and the society they ought to serve.
Indeed, far from a romanticized version of the unsung heroes who keep our streets safe, these people are threats to a reasonable and just society. Here especially, Slow Horses pulls no punches, instead peeking into the eye of the master from different angles, showing the system as inequitable, inhospitable, and precarious by design. It’s a bold departure from beguiled or, at best, neutral sentiments toward the spy genre, one that aptly asks crucial questions about the nature of institutional work and what one could count on as a part of the establishment.
The human drama moves in new directions and deepens poignantly, too. Standish tries to reckon with her relationship with her now-dead boss, Marcus does his (sloppy) utmost to kick a gambling habit, and Shirley works to tone her anger issues down. These richly drawn characters we’ve grown to know and care for again remind us of the humanity that gets sacrificed through endless paperwork and empty promises of “service” (to whom exactly remains unclear, too).
In this respect, River’s relationship with his ailing grandfather, David, his primary caretaker growing up, charts new emotional territory for Slow Horses. Lowden and Pryce are both captivating as two stubborn, almost comically alike men hardened by “service” but whose family falls apart under the weight of secrets best left unspoiled. David’s dementia is also presented with the utmost consideration and empathy, with Pryce’s bewildered grimaces at times almost too much to bear.
The grand finalé, seasoned generously with bombs, chases, shootouts, and nasty twists within the Park (fictional MI5 HQ), will satisfy even the most demanding thriller fan, except this season, the personal stories will stick. Private and institutional secrets and betrayals will spare no one, setting the stage for an even higher-stake fifth season.
While Slow Horses could have taken a backseat to its casual setup, dishing out (relatively) light espionage satire with some compelling action set pieces, the decision to go emotionally and politically deeper couldn’t have come at a better time. Several seasons in, this was a make-or-break moment, and the creative team stuck the landing without compromising on the fun stuff that make the show what it is (Lamb’s freakout over an office tidied up without his consent is a prime example).
The good, the bad, and the ugly now dance together within the Slow Horses‘ strange game, which works hard to remind viewers that only communal solidarity holds us together against the horrors of an oppressive system. This is not a typical heroic spy drivel, and the viewing experience is all the better for it. With the fifth season already wrapped up, its release date cannot come soon enough.