MobLand is a slow-burning, psychologically charged gangster drama that delivers, mostly

At its heart, MobLand is less about who pulls the trigger first and more about who’s playing the longer, more dangerous mind game. With veteran actors like Pierce Brosnan and Helen Mirren at the helm and Tom Hardy’s scene-stealing intensity at its core, the show dares to ask: What happens when the real warfare is waged not on streets, but in the recesses of the criminal mind?

In the first season, after Liam Harrigan (Jack Bannon), the reckless nephew of gun kingpin Conrad Harrigan (Pierce Brosnan), accidentally kills Marcus Stevenson (Daryl McCormack), son of drug lord Richie Stevenson (Geoff Bell), a fragile truce between the two London crime families collapses. As tensions rise, the Harrigans’ loyal fixer Harry Da Souza (Tom Hardy) is tasked with containing the fallout, while Conrad’s calculating wife Maeve (Helen Mirren) pulls strings behind the scenes, triggering a brutal and complex gang war.

The good

The biggest strength of the show lies in its layered storytelling. Ronan Bennett’s writing opts for cerebral tension over gratuitous violence, using suspense and subtle power plays to drive the narrative. Each move feels like a chess piece placed with purpose. Pierce Brosnan is terrifyingly good as Conrad Harrigan, playing against his usual suave persona with sneering menace and psychopathic flair. Helen Mirren as Maeve, the Lady Macbeth-esque matriarch, is equally arresting. Together, they command the screen, weaponizing love and power in terrifying ways.

But the real star is Tom Hardy. As Harry Da Souza, Tom delivers one of his best performances in years—stoic, unreadable, yet emotionally dense. He’s a man with a moral code working in an amoral world, and Hardy plays him with a quiet storm that’s always threatening to erupt.

Director Guy Ritchie’s fingerprints are evident in the sharp cinematography, kinetic editing, and carefully stylized violence. The aerial shots of the English countryside and tonal shifts in lighting—bright in scenes of affluence, darker in grittier moments—are subtle but effective choices that add layers to the storytelling. The show also earns points for refusing to spoon-feed viewers. It demands attention, observation, and patience—traits that reward you with compelling character arcs and devastating plot twists.

The bad

For all its strengths, MobLand stumbles in its pacing and balance. The first few episodes feel like they’re trying too hard to be clever, withholding too much information and slowing the momentum. Viewers looking for immediate gratification may struggle to stay engaged. The emotional subplots—particularly Harry’s strained marriage—veer into clichéd territory. The overused trope of the emotionally unavailable male antihero doesn’t offer anything new, and the repeated “you’re never present” dialogue begins to grate.

Some supporting characters, especially those introduced in subplots involving sexuality or past trauma, are written with a heavy hand. Their stories feel like they’re inserted more to tick off diversity checkboxes than to organically contribute to the narrative. These arcs lack the nuance and integration that the main story achieves, making them feel forced rather than progressive. Lastly, the season finale—while packed with action—feels rushed and less thoughtful than the slow-burn buildup that preceded it. Cliffhangers work when they’re earned, and here, the ending comes across as a desperate grab for a Season 2 rather than a natural crescendo.

The verdict

MobLand is an ambitious, slow-burn crime series that mostly succeeds thanks to stellar performances, sharp writing, and its commitment to psychological depth. While it occasionally stumbles under the weight of its own seriousness and tries too hard to cater to modern sensibilities, the show ultimately delivers a fresh take on the gangster genre. For fans of Ray Donovan, The Sopranos, or even Guy Ritchie’s own The Gentlemen, this is a must-watch.