Killing Eve

Tomorrow night the nation will settle down to watch Bodyguard, a brilliant thriller from Jed Mercurio. There is no denying that Bodyguard is a sensational piece of television, recalling - at least initially- the first season of Homeland where the viewer questions the motivations of a returning soldier. Now it appears to have shaken off its inspiration, becoming a conspiracy drama about what powerful men will do to hide their secrets. For a programme conceived five years ago, it appears to reflect Putin and Trump’s current approach to governing.

For all of that, the show we’ve been enjoying most in our household is Killing Eve. Originally authored by Luke Jennings, the story started out as a series of e-books. Through good fortune, the novella was read by an agent that thought it suited for TV. Soon Jennings was tapping Phoebe Waller-Bridge on the shoulder in the hope of recruiting her for his adaptation. Waller-Bridge's work on Fleabag showcased her ability to write strong female characters, something entirely necessary for Jennings's work. Together, the two have produced a truly idiosyncratic piece of television. Despite Waller-Bridge’s writing being the selling point, Jennings and his wife too have contributed to the show's look and narrative. The end result is a piece that feels fresh and vibrant.

The book it's based on.

Although the programme isn’t BBC in the strictest sense (BBC America is a subscription service), the show boasts corporation talent. Waller-Bridge is joined by Fleabag creatives, Vicky Jones and Harry Bradbeer, while Jody Comer (Doctor Foster) is co-lead. With American money behind them, these Brits have benefited from the special relationship, given their show an aesthetic state funding could not. When I think about British shows that can match Killing Eve for style, I can only think of Utopia and The End of the F***ing World: these too had unique music choices and quirky direction.In other words, it's rare to see auteur works on terrestrial TV.

To illustrate what I mean, I’ll talk about episode one, which opens with the centred font ‘VIENNA.’ This capitalised scene setting has a Tarantino whiff about it, signalling the style that'll go with the substance. The opening sound is ‘Xpectations’ by Unloved, seduction put to electronica, The Jesus and Mary Chain updated for millennials. It’s the breathy tease for the burlesque to come. We open in an ice cream parlour. A little girl is eating from her bowl. Opposite an attractive woman does the same. The child smiles. The woman believes it’s aimed at her. Looking across though, she realises it’s directed at a man. Reviewing his smile, she imitates it, sending one the girl’s way. Checking her watch, she wipes a trace of blood from it. Collecting her bag, paying her bill, she makes her way out. Exiting, she tips the girl’s ice cream bowl over her - revenge, after all, is a dish best served cold. The smile she wears now is natural, not studied like it was before. This is a woman that takes pleasure in other people’s pain. She is the smiling assassin.  

A lovely font style.

As for the substance, we’re then introduced to Eve. She is having a nightmare. Her screaming is wild and pained. Understandably, her husband is concerned. ‘Eve!’ ‘Eve!’ Coming to, she reassures him. It was nothing: she’d just fallen asleep on her arms. This establishes the humour of Killing Eve: among the nightmares, there will be levity. Later in the series shepherd’s pie, cheese puffs and a cake will dissolve tension, reminding us that this is, first and foremost, entertainment. Eve is different to the woman in the ice cream parlour. Her attractiveness is concealed behind a Debenhams wardrobe. Hers is a serious job, requiring a serious wardrobe. She works at MI5 and has been called in at the weekend to investigate a murder in Vienna. A man was killed in the street by a switchblade; a kill that happened so quickly it could only have been professional. Eve infers that it was probably a woman: they wouldn’t be recognised as a threat and could therefore get close to their target. The only witness is the partner of a man who appears to be speaking in tongues.

This one Saturday will change Eve’s days forever. When another man is killed in Tuscany, Eve’s theory seems true. Thus, a cat and mouse game begins. With Eve, the substance, against Villanelle, the style. Realising that she’s being tracked, Villanelle grows interested in Eve, wanting to know more about a woman who’s devoting her life to catching her. As for Eve, her respect for Villanelle grows the more she investigates her: she is in awe of her adversary's ability to shape-shift into different guises, adopting different costume and language to seduce and ensnare. If Eve is abandoning her paradise of a happy home to find the killer, it’s because Villanelle has tempted her to do so. Eve then has bitten the apple  - there can be no going back. Is the title then a portent? Will Eve meet her maker? Or is it a metaphor, a comment on how Eve must shed her skin, her past life, to become more powerful?

A headlock or a hug? Jodie Comer (above) and Sandra Oh (below).

The leads it should be said are terrific. Jodie Comer is a revelation as Villanelle. I first saw Comer in the underappreciated My Mad Fat Diary where she played the protagonist’s best friend, shifting seamlessly from cruelty to kindness. This breakout role though gives her the opportunity to stretch her range, allowing her to go from detached psychopath to vulnerable orphan. Her rendering reminded me of Arby (Neil Maskell) from Channel 4’s Utopia, a maniac with humanity buried deep. As for Sandra Oh, she’s been a television star for a while, primarily in Grey’s Anatomy. Prior to this, I’d only ever seen her in Sideways where she was both spirited and sexy – qualities her character grows into here. Having two female leads in a programme of this sort isn’t normal. After all the 90’s equivalent of this show is Heat, where Pacino and De Niro spend the movie stalking the other, ready to pounce when the other slips, to score decisive checkmate. In this age, it feels completely natural to have women in these roles. If anything it elevates the drama because it doesn’t descend into machismo and bluster, instead it's a cerebral dance where Eve’s character must learn to lead.

So with the Bodyguard drawing to a close, why not follow Villanelle over eight episodes? Like Eve, you might just grow to admire her.

Killing Eve is available on iPlayer