‘Black Doves’ Season 2 Review: Keira Knightley and Ben Whishaw’s Netflix Spy Drama Gets Even Better

“Black Doves” is not based on a comic, but it feels like it could be. Creator Joe Barton’s spy thriller, which is back for Season 2 on Netflix, has the colorful, hyper-stylized elements of a graphic novel that mashes genre tropes into a pulp and reshapes them into something original. It captures that elusive and valuable sensation of feeling familiar but fresh.The British series follows Helen Webb (Keira Knightley), an undercover operative employed by a top-secret for-profit espionage agency called the Black Doves, and her best friend Sam Young (Ben Whishaw), a hitman formerly with the Black Doves who’s now a dissolute freelancer. As Season 2 picks up, Helen has never been more important to the organization as her husband/target Wallace (Andrew Buchan) becomes Prime Minister, but the Webbs’ relationship has never been more tenuous, because he doesn’t trust her, and justifiably so. Then her handler Reed (Sarah Lancashire) goes missing. Sam, meanwhile, gets arrested after a hit, and in the police station, a mysterious man (Sam Riley) offers him a deal: his freedom (and a big chunk of cash) in exchange for four murders, no questions asked. As it becomes clear that Reed’s disappearance and Sam’s assignment are both connected to a long-ago mission gone wrong, Helen and Sam work together to find Reed — but not necessarily for the same reason. It’s a story about love, loyalty and the choices that betray them. It’s also about banter and gunplay, both of the rapid-fire variety. There’s a sequence in the first episode where Helen meets another Black Dove, chatty gunslinger Laila Joshi (Ambika Mod), as they prepare to break into a Russian oligarch’s hotel suite. They exchange witty repartee (“I can’t crack a safe.” “Why not?” “Why can’t anyone not do anything?”) in between blowing away henchmen. It’s exceptionally slick, with fine-tuned dialogue and funny performances — Mod perfectly understands the show’s deadpan humor from the moment she steps onscreen — giving way to whizbang violence. It’s like James (or Jane) Bond by way of Quentin Tarantino, and it’s so much fun to watch. Keira Knightley in “Black Doves.” (Netflix) Knightley and Whishaw are once again wonderful. The world of the show is heightened and cliche-heavy, but they always manage to find real human resonance in their characters. Knightley’s character is a riff on the “person who does terrible things but loves their family” trope, which has been done many times, but not with Knightley’s signature poise. The show makes great use of her ability to portray alternating vulnerability and determination. She makes you feel that it is possible for someone to love the spouse they’ve been honeypotting for the entire length of their relationship. And Whishaw is exquisitely world-weary as a man who regrets giving his life to a career that prevents him from having a future. He lives in a drug and alcohol-induced haze to insulate himself from his isolation from nearly everyone else on Earth. He’s heartbreaking in the moments he’s forced to confront reality. Together, Knightley and Whishaw have tender friend chemistry. They’re as devoted to each other as friends can be, because they’re the only people that actually know the other. The rest of the main returning cast gets deeper material than they had in Season 1. Williams (Ella Lily Hyland) and Eleanor (Gabrielle Creevy) — young contract killers who aren’t too jaded to have fun — get an arc of their own that expands them beyond just being comic relief, though they are still hilarious. Hyland in particular is a scene-stealer, obviously taking great delight in her character’s anarchic nature. She’s a burst of energy in every scene, whether she’s ranting about her Spotify “kill list” (the playlist that pumps her up before jobs) or jumping recklessly into firefights. And Lancashire is superb as her mysterious character gets some of her backstory filled in. In the waning moments of the season, she does something with her face that’s truly remarkable for how much it expresses while maintaining a stiff upper lip. It’s one of the finest moments of nonverbal acting of the year. On a craft level, the show maintains the high standard set in Season 1. Morgan Kennedy’s production design is bold, with almost every room done up in eyecatching wallpaper and accented with vibrant shades of red. London has rarely looked so sleek as it does in DP Ben Wheeler’s camera. And costume designer Ian Fulcher and hair and make-up designer Emily Bilverstone’s work is immaculate. Every jacket and sweater is perfectly cast, and Ben Whishaw’s hair is magnificent. This is a show that puts a lot of thought into the details, even down to the texture of a business card somebody hands Helen. Ambika Mod in “Black Doves.” (Matthew Towers/Netflix) There are so many things about “Black Doves” that work so well that when things don’t work, they really stick out. Neve Campbell is both miscast and underused as a representative from the Department of Defense dispatched to London for a summit with Wallace. The role seems to be written for a Kristi Noem type, which Campbell is not. Plus, it’s an unimportant enough part that it’s strange to cast a performer as recognizable as Campbell in it. You’ll find yourself waiting for the character to make an impact that never comes. There’s also an increasing suspension of disbelief issue that the show chooses to not address. Helen is the Prime Minister’s wife. She’s at least a little bit famous now. The odds of someone recognizing her in public when she’s sitting in a cafe with Sam doing nothing to conceal her identity are high. And she’s under more scrutiny; she would surely have a security detail that she would have to evade every time she goes out on Black Doves business. Having to think about how Helen gets around wasn’t a problem in Season 1 when Wallace was just a cabinet member, but the show will have to figure out a way to deal with this if it comes back for a third season and Wallace is still PM. Helen’s high profile could either become a major part of the plot, or it could be shrugged off with glasses and a wig. Even the bare minimum of addressing this problem would be sufficient to extend the suspension of disbelief, but doing nothing about it this season is a confusing choice that will become indefensible if the show continues. “Black Doves” doesn’t have to be realistic, but it does have to acknowledge glaringly obvious inconsistencies. These kinds of flaws are forgivable when the show is overall so entertaining and well-made. Spy and hitman shows and movies are dime a dozen these days — every other action comedy feels like it’s about a CIA agent — and when there’s one as well-acted, visually distinctive, and darkly funny as “Black Doves,” it’s to be treasured. “Black Doves” Season 2 is now streaming on Netflix.