Since debuting on television screens across the UK in 2013, Peaky Blinders has A. become one of the most popular shows of the last decade, B. amassed a fortune in merchandising (I’ve seen more than a dozen branded glasses in the homes of friends and family), and C. helped shift Cillian Murphy from being ‘that guy’ to being ‘that really cool guy in Peaky Blinders‘. It’s also now following in the footsteps of many popular shows and having a feature-length film made as a continuation of the franchise, echoing the trajectory of popular crime series such as The Sopranos. Not bad for a show which is inspired by a bunch of real-life criminals who never really fought the mafia or fascists. In fact, they were generally regarded as thugs and, unfortunately, none of them were nearly as attractive or cool as their TV counterparts.
Peaky Blinders is one of many shows in history that has criminals as protagonists, nor is it the first show to bend history in order to spin a good yarn. Its film offering remains to be seen, and the shows popularity mirrors that of The Sopranos in the US (and beyond) over 25 years ago. But while The Sopranos may also share a gangster for a lead character, Tony Soprano (James Gandolfini) is notably presented as a much worse human being. Yes, Tony Soprano is humanised and often a character who the audience empathises with, much like Tommy Shelby, but for every cool shot of Cillian Murphy walking down a street with a cigarette hanging out his mouth like a desperate Cillian Murphy fan, there’s a moment of James Gandolfini chewing out one of his children, arguing with his wife, or outright killing someone.
Again, the notion of criminals being presented as cool isn’t something new. Tony Soprano is an undeniably charismatic and charming character just as Tommy Shelby is, but we also see him physically threaten his wife, slap his son, and murder people ranging from a rival gangster to a man who ‘snitched’ to the police. Throughout Peaky Blinders, however, the gang is constantly elevated over its rivals by virtue of the writing – we would never never see Tommy Shelby hit a child or torment people the way Tony does. While the Peaky Blinders even rally under Churchill and help fight the British Union of Fascists – because, remember, the thugs who run rackets and assault people with razor blades are really the good guys – we constantly see Tony Soprano’s men spout racial abuse at numerous minorities and abuse people less powerful than them.
Having criminals as characters and liking those characters isn’t a problem either. I’m a big fan of Tony Soprano, Paulie Walnuts, and many of the other members of Tony’s crew, but I’m also not about to defend any of their actions. It’s quite hard to justify the killing of an innocent woman who was roped into speaking to the FBI, especially when the same people did nothing after a girl was beaten to death by one of their own crew. The Peaky Blinders are also charming in their own way: I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find Tommy Shelby cool, but I also take issue with the fact that his only real flaws seem to be the addictions he experiences and his penchant for isolation before devising a plan. The show never takes umbridge with any of the dirty tactics he uses in expanding his legitimate businesses and always reminds you that he’s only killing people because they’re getting in his way. The issue comes with the way that Peaky Blinders never seems to question these characters or their actions.
So, while The Sopranos was undoubtedly a phenomenon, and the success of Peaky Blinders is mirroring the trajectory of its American crime ancestor, the question remains: will its glamorisation of these terrible people help or hinder its longevity? The Sopranos also had a feature-length film released during COVID, The Many Saints of Newark, which explored Tony’s mentor (and the father of his protégé, Christopher), Dickie Moltisanti. But while the film continued the tradition of having a messy and morally dubious man at its centre, it wasn’t as popular or well-received as the series. Will the pandemic restriction-free nature of The Immortal Man‘s release provide an extra boost to the film’s success, or will people start to realise how terrible these people really are?
I’ll be seeing The Immortal Man when it releases, along with what I presume to be a lot of people, but I can’t deny my discomfort in seeing how many people my age, younger, and older than me seem to love these characters for the wrong reasons. In The Sopranos, crime only pays so much – and it definitely takes your soul; In Peaky Blinders, crime pays, and then pays a lot more; will this approach translate to ticket sales and streaming success? Time will only tell.
