‘Black Doves’ Review: Season 2 Sticks to Its Guns in Keira Knightley’s Excellent, Existential Spy Thriller

Early in “Black Doves” Season 2, Helen (Keira Knightley) experiences a beautiful, partial epiphany. She and her best friend Sam (Ben Whishaw) have been busy, once again, keeping each other alive. She’s trying to find her missing handler, Mrs. Reed (Sarah Lancashire). He’s working through a list of increasingly challenging assassinations, urged on by an unknown and unwelcome new boss. But then Helen realizes, “We’re looking for the same answers. We thought we were in separate shit creeks, but actually we’re in the same shit creek, paddling together.” Sam, never one to let a misapplied analogy slide (nor one to avoid noting the glass is also half empty), quickly informs her what she’s suggesting doesn’t make sense. “There is no paddle,” he says. “That’s the whole second half of the saying: ‘up shit creek without a paddle.'” So the two spies may be in the same boat, on the same river, in the same circumstance — whatever — but they’re still stuck there, paddle-less, likely to drown in particularly unpleasant fashion. Except the two of them being in the same creek isn’t Helen’s epiphany. This is: “I think friendship is the paddle,” Helen says. And she’s right. Of course she’s right. It’s a treacly sentiment, but it’s still a beautiful one: love guiding you through a life that seems hopeless. In fact, she’s more right than she realizes, which is why it’s only a partial epiphany — she and Sam will recognize the rest as “Black Doves” works its way through another excellent season of existential espionage action. If you don’t remember everything from the first six episodes of Joe Barton’s series, don’t worry. Catching up is easy and enjoyable if you have the time for a rewatch, and even if you don’t, Season 2 is more of an expansion on previous scenes with a fresh set of antagonists, allies, and agonized choices for our dear spies, wading their way through an identity crisis. Helen herself says there’s been “a lot of big changes” during her couples’ therapy session with her husband, Wallace (Andrew Buchan), referencing not only his ascension to Prime Minister but her subsequent sink to subservience. Turns out it’s hard to be a secret agent when you’re married to the most prominent politician in the United Kingdom. Sure, she gets to live on Downing Street and meet the queen, but passing state secrets isn’t as stimulating when all you have to do to get them is suffer through dinner after dinner with various delegates. What’s really eating at Helen, though, is what being a “spy wife” implies: disempowerment. She’s essentially a go-between, ratting on her husband to her own higher-ups, so when Reed suddenly disappears and she’s asked to report to a bunch of suits she’s never even seen before, it further activates her nagging lack of agency. “I would like to know who the hell it is I’m risking my life, liberty, and fucking freedom for,” Helen snaps at her nameless bosses, led by Mr. Conteh (“Alien: Earth” breakout Babou Ceesay). Wouldn’t we all? As it did in its first season, “Black Doves” excels at making its shoot-em-up spy series relatable (while winking here and there at the genre itself). Helen’s feelings of disenfranchisement reflect the growing divide between the working and executive classes; between the people who are told what to do (at the risk of losing our paychecks, healthcare, and everything each of them protects) and the ones doing the telling (who risk less and less, as they move further into the belly of the beast). The slick series keeps these parallels on the subtle side, never allowing its messaging to interfere with its drama, action, or humor. But it’s there, and it draws us to these characters via a kind of intrinsic veracity. Helen wants to understand what’s being done with the information she provides. She wants to be rewarded for her immense efforts, not in money, but with a seat at the table. Last season, she nearly left the spy trade altogether to run away with a man who turned out to be conning her. (He was a spy, too.) Now, she’s not only doubling down on her commitment to her job, but also her family — she loves Wallace and wants to make it work, hence the couples therapy. Ben Whishaw in ‘Black Doves’ Season 2Courtesy of Matthew Towers / Netflix Her discontent is shared by Sam, who’s in his own powerless predicament. After getting busted by the cops following a successful hit, he’s approached by a “private entity” that offers to make the homicide charges disappear in exchange for completing four assassinations of their choosing. He takes the deal (the devil you know, and all that), but soon discovers what makes his assignments “difficult” aren’t just the armed guards surrounding each target; it’s the identities of each target paired with not knowing why they’ve been chosen to die. “Love is a weakness,” the private entity’s representative tells Sam. “And you’re full of it.” Huh, where have I heard that line of thinking before? “Black Doves” is well-timed, arriving two days after America’s full-throated rejection of MAGA’s misguided moralism, and it does a fine job illustrating why anyone trying to manipulate our feelings for their own gains is not to be trusted; why compassion for our fellow man is what saves us, rather than what holds us down. Granted, it can be a little hard to believe Sam would buy into such a plainly vile argument, but Season 2 puts him in such a despondent state, it’s easier to accept his being led astray. His cycle of heavy drinking and little sleep also allows Whishaw to convincingly shade his character in a shifting desperation that turns on a dime. One moment, he’s angry, the next he’s depressed, and the next he’s can’t keep a dark joke from slipping out. Throughout, there’s a lingering sadness, which is properly explored in a superb episode made up of a trifecta of flashbacks, and his dour constitution still pairs perfectly with Helen’s reassuring nature. He saves her time and time again, just by answering her call, and she saves him, time and time again, by seeing him even when he can’t see himself. Joining the party — and Season 2 is a party, peppered with sharp jokes, punctuated by smart needle drops, and paced at a steady, compulsive tempo — are Laila (Ambika Mod), the self-described “muscle” assigned to help Helen on a messy mission; Cecile (Neve Campbell), the U.S. Defense Envoy tasked with telling the Prime Minister what to do (not that he listens); Reed, who gets a stronger arc better suited for Lancashire’s deft command; and Williams (Ella Lily Hyland) and Eleanor (Gabrielle Creevy), two energetic young hitmen-for-hire who are coming to learn that love and happiness aren’t guaranteed outcomes, especially for people whose lives are regularly at risk. “We’re all just animals, aren’t we?,” Williams says in a drug-induced moment of reflection. “Living with the things that we’ve done, living with the consequences of our actions. Looking for purpose, for connection, for love. And maybe we’ll never find it.” Or maybe you will. Maybe you just better consider who’s standing next to you when the bullets start flying, figuratively or literally. Maybe you just need to see who still sees you when you’re beaten down by the powers that be. Maybe you just have to realize we’re all up a creek at some point, and the only paddle you really need is a friend who’s willing to wade through the shit — or pull you out of it. Grade: B+ “Black Doves” Season 2 premieres Thursday, November 5 on Netflix. All eight episodes will be released at once.