Funny. That was the first episode of Peaky Blinders in which Tommy Shelby didn’t have a gun pulled on him and now he’s scared. ‘That escalated quickly’ you might say, but you’d be stating the obvious. Escalating things quickly is Peaky Blinders’ specialism. In thirteen hours, we’ve watched Thomas Shelby go from shell-shocked claykicker to international arms dealer and—who knows—future lord mayoral candidate. Eat your heart out, Mr Chips to Scarface. Displaying characteristic Shelby endurance, Tommy climbed out of that series two finale grave and into a stately home. (They didn’t show the moving-day scene of that Downton lot sobbing as they trailed down their former driveway, dragging their hat boxes behind them as the Shelbys motored in whooping, but you can amuse yourself by imagining it.) Fat chance. The same was said about the Epsom Derby assassination, and the one that preceded it. Tommy says ‘just one last job’ like an alcoholic says ‘just one last drink’. Like Arthur, in fact, whose warped logic justifies him drinking whiskey now and again to remind him why he doesn’t drink it. Do these characters believe the lies they tell? Or the promises they make? No guns in the house vowed Tommy, just before Arthur pulled the trigger on that Russian spy in the wine cellar. You have to hope Grace knows what she’s gotten herself into. With an absence of Sabini or Solomons, and the introduction of new Russian foes, this episode felt more spy thriller than gangster tale. Having been fed a diet of stylish slow-mo swagger and breath-taking violence up until now, you could be forgiven for finding it somewhat subdued. Sedate, even, compared to the tense action of series two’s finale or its literally explosive opener. At least to begin with. Like the guests around that wedding breakfast table, we were made to wait for our meal. And after a game of ‘who’s under the veil?’ (the ghost of Charlotte Riley’s May only present in that handsome portrait of Tommy and his race horse overhead) and some family politics, it was finally served: a hot stew of punching, biting, fucking and frantic jazz that left us in no doubt that Peaky Blinders was back. The show’s tone though, feels undeniably altered by taking the action out of Small Heath, with its black alleys, belching infernal fires and clanging mechanical soundtrack, and into the corridors of a well-appointed country mansion. Only when Tommy and Pol strode into their den in the closing moments did it feel like the Peaky Blinders of old. Change though, is good. Dramas can’t go on repeating the same tricks, and Tommy Shelby’s on an upward trajectory. Where else would we expect to find him at this point but a few rungs up the ladder? There’s also something to be said for bringing the violence and unpredictability of Small Heath to that luxuriant backdrop. Staging a fire-lit bareknuckle fight in the manicured gardens of a stately pile was a thrilling sight. Peaky Blinders’ contrast used to be provided by the clash of Tommy’s glamour with his downbeat locale, but now it’s reversed. The locale is glamorous, the characters are messily unstable. And the least stable of all is Arthur Shelby, Tommy’s ‘mad dog’, who appears to have a new owner in the form of devout Linda, played by Wolf Hall and War And Peace’s Kate Phillips. Paul Anderson has always shown Arthur to be more than just an unhinged brute, and this episode, with its faltering best man’s speech was his best work yet. Arthur finding God offers the character some thrilling possibilities. And Tommy? For the first time ever, Tommy Shelby is scared. It’s a new look for what promises to be a sensational new series. Read our review of the previous episode, here.
