Streaming has trained viewers to zone out, so MobLand’s branding, which screamed standard mind-numbing action fare, was a smart disguise. Guy Ritchie’s name promised better: deadpan Cockney humor, a gripping gangland war, and Tom Hardy in what may be his finest character, able to unfurl properly with the breathing space of the television format.
Season 1 did sag toward its end, trading gunfire for feelings that played more EastEnders than Peaky Blinders. Alice asking Jan whether she still fancied Harry felt like fan service, and Kevin’s hunt for his abuser sat awkwardly beside the main plot. But with season 2 snapping sharply into focus, that emotional groundwork pays off.
An empire in freefall
Episode 1’s shot of Harry’s small, lonely blue van leaving the desolate parking lot where he has driven one of his unfortunate puppets is masterful cinematography. The understated majesty of this “abandoned porn” (there’s a whole subreddit for aesthetically appealing urban decay) says all you need to know about the state of the Harrigans in season 2. The way the grass grows wild over the cracked pavement sings of the County Kerry of the Harrigans’ origin, if the accent Pierce Brosnan got crucified for online is anything to go by. But it’s the Harrigans that London needs to prune.
The smorgasbord of character on show here is a treat—Bella's suit in episode 1 is a character in and of itself, and the hapless Fergus is a punchline, and a brilliant one at that. Emmett J. Scanlan matches Hardy’s dry comedy beat for beat as the long-suffering Paul, grinning grimly through Conrad’s idiocy. In a notable development, Harry’s daughter, Gina, has started humanizing Eddie, who was a veritable Caligula in season 1. This character development is amplified by the slow-burn reveal of Grandma Maeve’s depraved grooming extending deeper into Eddie’s life than season 1 let on.
The fixer at work
The premiere opens with a gunfight that begins the end for the Harrigans, which is coming as soon as Conrad starts cutting Harry out of his confidence, Harry being the only thing holding the Harrigans together. Harry later lying in bed staring at the ceiling until his alarm goes off, then clinging to coffee for dear life, can’t be good news for them.
Nevertheless, true to form, by the end of episode 1, Harry fixes the Ruzgars, and that’s what the viewers tuned in to see. The fixer at work, and a consummate horror it is. A thug disguised as a C-suite businessman, Harry offsets his professionalism with occasional enunciation of the Cs and Ts at the end of words in what is otherwise pure cockney. This bounce-around is as delightfully disturbed as ever.
Villains with flair
With a trillion in cash and the world’s biggest nuclear arsenal, Kat McAllister is more powerful than her legal counterparts, which is, in many ways, what makes this show so interesting. Talking to Seraphina, Kat is still asking after Harry’s allegiances, suggesting she may still be more interested in headhunting than beheading. If Kat has foresight, and she seems to, then the appeal of Harry may be precisely his loyalty. It isn’t totally unimaginable for Kat’s attacks to be a test for Harry, in part, and for the minute he betrays the Harrigans to be the minute he stops being interesting to her.
Frankie Cooper, played by Johnny Flynn, is the most unhinged of the whole cast, quintessentially British, his style and persona a history lesson from 60s mod culture to Britpop. Toby Jones, flawlessly cast as the bent copper Tattersall, complements him. If the abyss between presentation and reality measures grit, he is the most gangster of them all. “This man will run London,” he says of Frankie, and by episode 4, it’s believable. Flynn’s cartoon villainy refreshes a tired genre and bodes well for his Lucius Malfoy in the upcoming Harry Potter series.
An irrredeemable snake at first glance, Donnie stands watching Jan leave after engineering their road collision. He is somewhere between unreadable and breathless, taken aback by some impulse hard to discern, although that could just be a spot of minor whiplash.
Poison and guardian angel
“You, my dear boy, are not the remedy; you’re the poison,” Jan says to Harry, insisting their daughter would fare better with anyone else. Episode 2’s finale pays that off: here Harry is once again the one-man army who stormed the warehouse holding Seraphina and Brendan in season 1 as he races to save his daughter. Recalling the best scene of season 1, season 2 is off to a great start already by the end of its second episode.
Harry is a Marvel superhero stoically watching Gina escape with her lover, keeping his distance as Jan demanded. No one will see that sacrifice but the viewers. Only the audience sees him holding everything together as it tries to come apart at the seams, which is what makes him easy to root for and what makes Bella’s temptation so visceral.
The biggest running joke of MobLand is how much Harry carries, and Bella offers a lethal balm. This is what Tattersall cleverly observes as he notes that she is one of Harry’s four weaknesses—the sexual tension between the two is visible even from Scotland Yard.
Does Harry deserve to fall with the Harrigans? Who knows, but it will be devastating even if he does, testament to Ronan Bennett’s brilliant running of season 2. Harry’s loyalty may be his fatal flaw or the reason he outlives the Harrigans, and Frankie’s plan to remove Conrad and Maeve, who has antifreeze of her own, is logical enough to tempt anyone. Donnie might yet defect, empowering Jan and handing Harry a pawn.
Season 1’s slow stretch, with its distant marriages, damaged men, and rotting heirs, now looks like load-bearing groundwork. MobLand season 2 streams Fridays on Paramount+, and Show Snob will be back with the next recap.
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