I can’t say I was surprised that last week was when many people seemed to turn on the series. I still feel very equivocal about this show now it’s over, but, even in this final episode, which ended so daftly and implausibly, there was much to enjoy. Most of it came from the brilliant Ben Whishaw, who had to carry so much of the emotional weight of the show. Danny’s personal story was impeccably written and performed, certainly in comparison to those of certain other characters. If spy stories are ultimately about subtext rather than plot, about human relationships rather than codes and algorithms, about outsiders and the trials of integration, then London Spy has succeeded handsomely.

‘Wouldn’t it have been easier to have loved me?’ – Danny

“I can’t say why we never did.” This awkward scene explained in abundance Danny’s rootlessness, his yearning for affection and protection. His “dying” dad and defeated mum were, it seems, menaced into a slightly elaborate scheme to wipe the cylinder of information by taking a photo with a rigged camera. The saddest thing was that Danny wasn’t remotely surprised that they had betrayed him.

The HIV support group was another powerful sequence with Danny finally able to tell the truth, albeit in a room of total strangers. God knows what they really made of this utterly implausible yarn, but at least they sat and listened.



It’s a shame that, with the emotional side of Danny’s story so well handled, the intricacies of the plotting couldn’t compete. How did “they” know Danny carried the cylinder on him? There must have been easier ways to swipe/wipe the information, but then you could say that of almost every attempt to thwart Danny throughout the series. The method of his infection with HIV – corrupt copper taking blood test – was handled rather as an afterthought. And although Danny’s efforts to spread the word started promisingly – first by post and then email – wasn’t it worth asking his old flatmates to send something on his behalf? Or giving social media a shot? The internet is full of people willing to promote conspiracy theories if you know where to look.



‘No child can redeem their parents’ – Alex

Finally, the full story. Initially brought up by a single mum (no word on the father) with ruinous addictions, then raised by an embittered, vengeful adopted mother to redeem the failures of her and her husband. I think we would all have a few issues with an upbringing like that. He was anything but “a stupid boy”, though. That room was given the full Beautiful Mind treatment of blackboards and floor-to-ceiling equations.

Danny’s beautiful mind. Photograph: WTTV Limited/BBC

The idea that he could have been spirited out of the country had been floated by some of you, and, at one point, I did dare to believe it was possible. As it was, he died a uniquely horrible death, condemned by his own invention and his mother’s trickery and belated sense of responsibility. Funnily enough, I was far more inclined to buy the whole “end of lying” thing after it was used against its creator – a vicious, delicious dramatic irony that more than compensated for the sheer implausibility of the concept in reality. How easy it is for Frances to dismiss his discovery as “a sentimental, ridiculous notion” when it exposed such unpleasant truths. Bravo to Edward Holcroft for making that scene count.

“Alex was your step back [from the abyss],” Frances tells Danny. ”He was mine, too.” Who knows what Alex could have become, had Frances not tried to carve him in her own image? Happy, I’d wager. And if Danny hadn’t tried to save him? Alive, probably. Alex was never allowed to be his own man.

‘How do we live without the people we love?’ – Scottie

Little more was revealed about Scottie here, other than the fact that he didn’t have many friends (that funeral was somewhat sparsely attended) and that he and Danny were as close as they always seemed (nice of him to pass on his house and car). Danny’s eulogy was charming and heartfelt. How appropriate that, after their conversation on Hampstead Heath, Danny got to say goodbye to someone in a place where people actually cared.

I suppose we’ll never know which side Scottie was really on, which is probably appropriate for a career spook. But if he wasn’t the bad guy, either Marcus or Claire must have spilt the beans about the cracked cylinder, neither of which I really buy.

And what of those boffins? Marcus was logical to the end, destroying his copy of the files, but lacked class in crashing a funeral. Claire seemed to be playing a slightly different game, warning Danny off the case before returning his journal and, I think, the cylinder. Or, at least, that’s what I assume she meant when she said, “I’ll be here when you’re ready,” with a knowing smile. Anyone else got any theories?

Frances (Charlotte Rampling). Photograph: Joss Barratt/BBC/WTTV Limited

‘Let’s burn them down for real.’ – Frances

Aargh! Really? The last scene played out like a Home Counties Thelma and Louise. Frankly, I would have preferred it if Danny had driven off a beaten man: downbeat, to be sure, but less howlingly bizarre.

My real issue was that I never accepted Frances’s decision to go all Darth Vader and turn from monster to white knight. The biological Mrs Turner (I’m guessing her “husband” was the secret-service guard placed there to make sure they toed the line) burning down the maze was quite the statement, but hardly a compelling argument for Frances to throw her lot in with Danny. Nor was I was convinced that she really loved Alex. Wearing his key around her neck was visual evidence, I suppose, but hardly enough to counter all the wrong she had done him; this fish was too cold to be warmed up by a mere fire.



Charlotte Rampling did her considerable best, but this was a wodge of exposition too far for me and, I think, for her. I can’t imagine how she described to Danny the scenes we witnessed in flashback. Ben Whishaw had much less to say and, as a result, acted her off the screen here.

Having said that, I enjoyed her story up until her bizarre volte-face. Being the frustrated, unappreciated wife of an incompetent spy “with a second-rate mind” who apparently let the Cambridge spy ring operate under his nose? That would send anyone a bit potty.

Well done, by the way, to those who thought Frances was the fag-smoking surveillance spook in the van and the flat opposite Danny’s. Perceiving that from her smoking habit alone was impressive supposition. That said, if her behaviour was clandestine, I couldn’t imagine someone as haughty as Frances actually getting her hands dirty like that. If it was authorised, why would MI6 entrust someone so potentially compromised and personally invested with such a mission?

London

Largely familiar locations this week, imaginatively and evocatively shot as always – although where was Scottie’s funeral held? The same church where he and Danny met last week, I know, but I couldn’t identify it.

I loved the shot of Danny standing in the Thames after Scottie’s funeral. Made him look like a Gormley sculpture.

Danny’s folks live on the Alexandra Road estate, where I don’t recall a single story ending happily in television drama. Another striking location, though.

Notes and observations