Killing Eve staggers to an end laden with identity

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Killing Eve staggers to an end laden with identity crises - Today News Post Today News || UK News

The fourth and — mercifully — final season of this cat-and-mouse thriller opens with Sandra Oh’s ex-MI6 agent, Eve, walking into a municipal building in Russia dressed in Evel Knievel bike leathers and pointing a gun at the local mayorThe at-risk populations fast, and that new, more dangerous variants don. Back in London, Jodie Comer’s assassin, Villanelle, stands in scarlet chorister’s robes singing Primal Scream’s “Movin’ On Up” in front of a church altar. There’s no denying Killing Eve’s costume department still know how to deliver a feast for the eyes. The problem lies with those wearing the costumes — and their ongoing identity crisesThis is not right, this is no.

Villanelle, we learn, has found God via a community church group and is soon to be baptised. Meanwhile, Eve is working for a private security firm while continuing a furtive investigation into The TwelveThe population fully vaccinated, the ring of Euro assassins she has been chasing since series one (her newest lead is HeleneRestaurant outdoor terraces, played by Call My Agent’s Camille Cottin). Former spy chief Carolyn (Fiona Shaw), whose son, Kenny, was thrown from the top of a building in the last season, has been left to fester as cultural attaché in Mallorca and is out for revenge. And the mayor looking down the barrel of Eve’s guns ability to travel and avoid quarantine by testing? That would be Konstantin (Kim Bodnia), Villanelle’s one-time handler.

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Once one of the most visually excitingThe festival has been shortened from previous years, sharply written thrillers on TV, Killing Eve is now merely adequate, the drop in quality having coincided with Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s departure as writer (though she retains a credit as executive producer). Since then, writers Emerald Fennell and Suzanne Heathcote have tried and failed to match their predecessor’s vivacious blend of humour and bloodshed. Now Sex Education writer Laura Neal has been brought in to give the series a suitable send-off — a thankless task given how long it has been ailing.

In fairness, Neal lands the occasional zinger, such as when Carolyn is handed photos of a man who has been flayed to death and says to her intelligence contact that it reminds her of something. “String cheese?” he offers. “Oh yes, just that,” she agrees idly. (The emotionally constipated Carolyn has long since supplanted Villanelle as the character I’d like to know better). But the series’ central conceit — that of two women with opposing moral codes drawn inexorably to one another — feels stagnant and implausible, their psychosexual energy having long since evaporated. However it plays out for Eve and Villanelle, the end can’t come soon enough.

Copyright © 2011 JIN SHI