Published Feb. 8, 2024, 6:00 p.m. ET
It starts out with Gal jogging. Okay, got it, he keeps trim, a contrast with his retirement era, when his physique leads to merciless ribbing by Don. But then you see the mansions he’s jogging past. The high wrought-iron fences, the posh residents getting into and out of expensive cars, and uniformed security hither thither and yon. Before the episode (“Trouble Is Real,” Sexy Beast Episode 5) cuts to Gal going over the details of the neighborhood, you already know: He’s not jogging, he’s casing the joint. In other words, we’ve got ourselves a proper caper now, boys!
One of the most exciting aspects of the original Sexy Beast was watching the logistics of the big plan take shape. The same is true here. If there’s one thing 25 years of high-end crime television has taught us, watching competent people work together to pull off a difficult task is always fun. (Right up until the moment it isn’t, anyway. Remember Walter White’s great train robbery?) Watching everyone’s face light up as Gal outlines his plan — break into the house next door and blow a hole from their basement into Sir Stephen Eaton’s vault room, using Bonfire Night fireworks as cover for the noise — made mine light up too.
But the good times don’t last. No sooner do Gal and Don (also done up as a jogger, which is very funny) set foot on the neighbors’ lawn than they get pinched by… the IDF? Turns out they’ve accidentally trespassed on the grounds of the Israeli Consulate. Fortunately, Don — who isn’t so much stupid as just…scattered, permanently — comes up with a brilliant plan, a refined version of which he’ll use again in the film: He accuses one of the Israeli troops of touching “my back bottom.” Now, no one wants to involve the British authorities in this of course; “It’s not my style,” Don says. Perhaps it’s best for everyone if this all goes away? It works like a charm, of course.
Unfortunately, it leaves Gal no closer to an answer. It isn’t until his mentor Mace (Robbie Gee) comes out of post-prison retirement to help them, after twice literally trying to beat the idea of even trying it out of Gal, that their route is unveiled: the sewer. If you like your heists claustrophobic and wet — and if you’re watching a TV version of Sexy Beast, it’s fair to say you do — you’re in for a treat, I suspect.
Anyway, that’s the main action, the caper stuff. It’s also the tip of an iceberg of immensely sharp writing by Michael Caleo and powerful acting by everyone involved. Take Don, for instance. The fake-sexual-harassment speech is his star turn for sure — but how differently does it hit now that we know why he considers being physically molested such a universally understood violation? Also, look how he smiles at Gal after he tells the bubbe meise: He knows he done good, and he’s proud of himself, and Gal is indeed impressed. Again, that makes me happy.
God help me, so does how hard he tries to help his increasingly awful sister Cecilia land a permit to revamp and expand their chintzy arcade into a real casino. He wears a suit and tie and rehearses his part of the speech, which involves some technical information about the structural integrity of the building, until he has it down cold. After he aces his portion of the pitch, Cecilia smiles at him, actually proud of and happy with him for once. How can you not be happy too?
Tasmin Grieg’s Cecilia, meanwhile, is arguably the big revelation of the whole affair, seeing as how she’s an original creation. I double dog dare you to tear your eyes off of her as she sits and smokes and decides whether or not to allow Teddy Bass to kill the brother of whom she is supposedly the only true friend. I’ll be honest: I didn’t think she’d give the go-ahead. But as we see when she argues with herself at the mirror, just as baby brother Don does in the film, this woman is capable of talking herself into anything.
For his part, Teddy has no actual intention of going through with killing a guy as useful as Don is at the moment. He was just testing her, he says. You can’t help but feel for how even Teddy fucking Bass values the life of Don Logan more than his own sister at this point. The way he secretly spies on her from the stairs as she sits and smokes and thinks about what she’s just agreed to is genuinely eerie, like he’s already a ghost.
Or Jesus, how about the scene where she plants increasingly awful doubts about Gal in his sister Ann Marie’s mind, in retaliation for him suggesting to Don that the Logans would be better off selling the property than trying to upgrade it. At first, you think the “Don’t let these men hold you down” speech is just some girlboss bullshit she’s concocting to win the younger woman over. But after Ann Marie leaves, you see that Cecilia is out of breath, tears in her eyes. There’s still something real in there, something that feels.
Keep in mind that this comes hot on the heels of Deedee’s gutting storyline, involving a disastrous attempt to reconnect with her family over Sunday dinner. Her shitty father stonewalls her and eventually kicks her out. Her mother smiles and cries but does nothing. And her sister, who’s ostensibly her remaining friend in the family, is revealed to be the person who told Deedee’s father she’d started filming porn. (And kissing girls.) In a harrowing flashback, he bodily drags young Deedee from the house and throws her out. A more effective evocation of social onservatism — a political movement dedicated to giving men a pretext to abuse their spouses and children — I haven’t seen in a long time.
This runs parallel to Gal finally coming out and telling Deedee he loves her, which I love for any number of reasons. James McArdle’s initial “Coz I luv ya,” he says, sounding like a Slade single, followed by a more formally articulated “I love you,” with one last “I’m sayin’ it again, I luv ya” thrown in to take the edge off. It’s goddamned adorable, man.
Yet the show isn’t pulling any punches about what Gal and Deedee are doing to their current significant others. Nor is condemning them for doing it, either. It’s not that Marjorie or Alan (Lex Shrapnel) are portrayed as being that bad! It’s just that she’s a bit boring compared to Deedee, and he’s a little cloddish compared to Gal, and neither seems to really hear them when they talk, and…well, the spark isn’t there. But it’s there with Deedee and Gal. The issue is simply whether that holding that spark in their hands is worth hurting innocent people for. Sometimes, for adults, the answer winds up being yeah.
Deedee, by the way, is determined to keep Gal at bay, most likely to keep him from running afoul of the McGraws, who beat her current producer horrifically when he tells them he can’t secure her for future performances. “You don’t know me,” she tells him.
“Yes I do,” he says, and the smile on his face is all the proof you need he’s right.
Sean T. Collins (@theseantcollins) writes about TV for Rolling Stone, Vulture, The New York Times, and anyplace that will have him, really. He and his family live on Long Island.