dierregi

Peaky Blinders starts as a gripping, stylish crime drama with a lavish production, impeccable costumes, and a strong ensemble cast. The first two seasons, charting the Peaky Blinders' rise, stand out for their tight storytelling and atmosphere, with a soundtrack that enhances the mood rather than hijacking it. But then the rot sets in.

By the third season, the plot grows murkier with an overcomplicated Russian subplot -interesting in theory, but messily executed. The fourth season drags in the inevitable Italian mafia revenge arc, and from there, the show nosedives. The fifth season is a slog, and the sixth is an abysmal, self-indulgent mess: overly dark, painfully slow, and utterly joyless.

Character-wise, Tommy Shelby remains the compelling, tortured antihero that holds the whole thing together. Arthur is as grating as every loose-cannon, addict older brother archetype, John was a solid presence while he lasted, and Michael made for a decently layered antagonist. Aberama Gold was a strong addition, and his sudden exit felt like a wasted potential - he could have brought much-needed gravitas to the later seasons. Alfie Solomons, on the other hand, was insufferable, and his miraculous resurrection from terminal illness, and after taking a bullet to the brain defied even Peaky Blinders' already tenuous relationship with realism. The worst was Adrian Brody, I'm Italian and could not understand a word he said in his "alleged" Italian.

The female characters suffer from sketchy writing. Polly was the only truly compelling one - Helen McCrory's loss was a huge blow. The rest? Ada, Lizzie, Gina, and the assorted interchangeable "girl bosses" all whined incessantly while happily indulging in the wealth their morally bankrupt men provided. Grace worked in the first season, but her return was contrived, and Esme was insufferable. The flood of female characters in the final season did nothing but dilute the already incoherent storytelling.

And then there's the style. How many slow-motion gang struts does one show need? The dialogue, once sharp, devolved into repetitive, F-bomb-laden drivel - seriously, since when did 1930s women swear like drunken sailors? The finale, drawn out and drenched in faux sentimentality, was the final insult.

What started as a remarkable series ended in self-parody - too convoluted, too heavy-handed, and too enamored with its aesthetic.

This show screams, "I hated my desk job, and now you're going to hear about it for nine episodes + more." The plot feels like the fever dream of a disgruntled ex-employee who finally snapped after one too many passive-aggressive emails from Karen in HR. It's less a nuanced narrative and more a blunt weapon forged in the fires of workplace resentment. Sure, corporate absurdity is a relatable target, but the show wields it with all the subtlety of a stapler to the face.

The aesthetic is predictable an icy, desaturated landscapes that scream, "Look how cold and oppressive our world is!" (Yes, we get it). The dim, dreary "outside world" might as well come with a flashing neon sign that reads, "Contrast!" It's as if the writers feared the audience wouldn't grasp the difference between corporate dystopia and regular life without plunging everything into darkness. A little more light and warmth outside the office might have given the narrative some much-needed depth-or at least fooled us into thinking they'd considered nuance.

As for the "big mystery" at Lumen: what could possibly justify memory erasure? Spoiler alert - nothing. They've shrouded it in so much secrecy that it tips from intriguing to absurd. Instead of building tension, it just feels like a writer's ploy to hide the fact they don't really have answers.

The performances are competent, though the actress playing Helly is about as subtle as a flashing hazard light. Her every move screams "important twist incoming!" so loudly that when the big reveal finally lands, it's less "OMG!" and more "Well, duh."

Severance is mildly entertaining, but only if you don't think about it too hard. It masquerades as clever while serving up the same reheated commentary we've seen before. Not a masterpiece, just a glacially-paced attempt to pass off workplace gripes as groundbreaking television.

A masterclass in baffling logic and misplaced character investment. Let's start with the Helly conundrum: in what universe does someone who visibly despises a company and its job still get hired there? Don't companies have any pre-screening processes? Or did Lumon just see her application, chuckle, and think, "Ah yes, the perfect candidate - someone who clearly loathes us!"

And why do they insist on keeping her around? Is it part of their sinister corporate plan to underwhelm us all with this forced drama? Forget the mysteries of Lumon; this is the real puzzle keeping me up at night.

As for Helly herself, I must admit, I was rooting for her - specifically to succeed in erasing herself entirely from the show. Alas, no such luck. (This was written after the end of the first series, so no spoiler).

The show overall? A pretentious stab at corporate America by someone who clearly has unresolved HR grievances. Sure, there's intrigue, but it's buried beneath a layer of self-satisfied gloom that screams, "Look at me, I'm deep!" Spoiler alert: you're not.