Manor Mayhem
The disarmingly British thrill of The Gentlemen on Netflix
Author's Note: I wrote and planned this post well before the US election results came in. Although my articles rarely cover breaking news or politics, I did briefly consider shifting this week’s topic in light of the news. Ultimately, I decided not to. While I have two pieces in progress that indirectly touch on the current mood—a review of Alex Garland’s Civil War and a reflection on Sam Quinones' The Least of Us—releasing them now felt disingenuous. Everyone processes things in their own way, and I don't think forcing myself to share a take on this political moment would bring much clarity or comfort to anyone. Speaking of sifting through big feelings, I’m happy to share that last night I found a surprising amount of peace sorting through my big bin of legos (such a joyful noise) while re-watching the extended edition of The Fellowship of the Ring. In that spirit, maybe exactly what you need right now is some escapist Netflix drama…
Two popular TV genres have become equally concerning to me lately.
The first is “wealth porn”: shows uncritically depict lavish lifestyles out of reach for most viewers. Examples include reality shows like Selling Sunset and Bling Empire, and romantic comedies like Emily in Paris.
While some storytellers have responded to growing class consciousness and outrage over income inequality with “eat the rich” allegories like The Menu, Triangle of Sadness, and Parasite, the creators of “wealth porn” decided to respond by celebrating the ultra-rich. Their hot protagonists, designer wardrobes, and stunning sets exist to be ogled, appreciated, and envied.
I dub the second genre BAPG*: Britain’s Actually Pretty Glamorous *If you ignore all the colonialism).” This includes Downtown Abbey, Bridgerton, and The Crown (both before and after it’s sad decline). These shows center British life while conveniently skipping over bloody conquest, wealth extraction, and racism to focus on romance, lavish balls, and family duty. Like “wealth porn,” these shows are fundamentally escapist, meaning their problematic aspects are also what’s most appealing about them.
So you can imagine my lukewarm skepticism when a college friend recommended we watch The Gentlemen, another show about ultra-wealthy Brits on grand estates, indulging in posh nonsense like they’re auditioning for Monty Python’s “upper class twit of the year.” But, trusting my friend’s knowledge of me and my tastes, I took the leap anyway.
We binged the series over four gripping evenings.
My verdict: The Gentlemen is worth watching not despite its British aristocratic aesthetic, but because of it.
Beneath the fancy trappings of English old money, this is a show that understands storytelling at a very fundamental level.
This is clear from the premise laid out in the first episode.
Eddie (Theo James), a UN peacekeeper, is called home to visit his dying father. As the will is read, Eddie learns that he, not his older brother Freddy (Daniel Ings), will inherit his father’s huge manor, along with the estate, art, wine, money, and prestige that come with it. His brother is understandably (and hilariously) livid, because he is millions of dollars in debt to some very bad gangsters. Suddenly thrust into the bizarre and menacing criminal underworld, Eddie must use his wits, charm and peacekeeping skills to keep his family alive and his estate intact.
What I immediately loved about The Gentlemen was its unpredictable plot and engaging style. Like its binge-worthy cousin Beef, the writing is tight and tense, ending most episodes with an “oh shit” moment that keeps you watching. Like Beef, this show fully embraces sharp editing, flair, and unapologetic quirkiness.
It’s also impressive how a show with violent characters and high-stakes crime can feel so light and charming. All of the bold elements are well-balanced like ingredients in a delicious (and therefore certainly non-British) sauce.
This contrast is striking compared to other shows about unexpectedly entering the criminal underworld. Where Breaking Bad and Ozark suck you into a darkening spiral of crime and chaos, The Gentlemen keeps a breezy style, fueled by fun capers and bouncy pacing all the way to the end. Instead of the grim world of meth and vengeful drug cartels, we gallivant across the splendidly peculiar British countryside, pausing for boxing matches, fancy parties, and backyard skeet shooting.
Like a Bond movie, this is a world where every important discussion happens in dapper outfits over fancy cocktails.
It’s a stylish and fun romp—Breaking Bad in Barbour jackets. If you enjoy beautiful people committing crimes in handsome outerwear, this is your show.
Where else can you witness Giancarlo Esposito, whose presence alone has made mediocre video games appear like prestige TV, haggle over red Burgundy prices? It’s Esposito, playing American billionaire Stanley Johnston, who delivers some of the series’ sharpest dialogue—the very kind of class criticism Saltburn gestured at but whiffed on:
“Do you know what I love about the British aristocracy? They’re the original gangsters. The reason they own 75% of this country is because they stole it. William the Conqueror was worse than Al Capone. When he came over from France he grabbed hold of everything he could get his hands on and then he set up a system so that he and his friends got to hold on to it for ever: taxation, education, the judiciary. It’s all designed to help the aristocracy to hold on to their land and their money.”
It’s astounding that a show this ambitious and unique works so well. Watching it is like seeing Jason Statham do an Olympics-worthy high dive, which he really did, by the way.
I’m not deeply versed in Guy Ritchie’s work, but I understand that the trifecta of gritty humor, punchy dialogue, and an artful lasagna of criminal schemes is his stylistic calling card. The Gentlemen is, after all, based on his 2015 film of the same name.
I know this might make The Gentlemen sound fluffier than a technical challenge on The Great British Bakeoff, so let’s dive into why it’s such a fun watch beyond its charm and style. This wouldn’t work without actors who bring depth to this unlikely genre mashup, starting with Theo James as Eddie.
I first saw James as the slimy, charismatic Cameron in Season 2 of The White Lotus. His performance was solid, but my lasting impression was that he’d merely inherited the 'most punchable character' baton from Jake Lacey in Season 1.
The Gentlemen truly showcases his range.
Here, in his more natural and suave British accent; we witness him tackling family drama, crime negotiations, comedy, and action all at once. James captures the show’s central tension: debonair decorum barely concealing chaos, violence, and inner conflict. His portrayal of Eddie captures the modern British aristocracy’s peculiar mix of status and fragility with panache. Eddie’s position is both incomprehensibly privileged and surprisingly perilous. The fragile status quo could topple at any moment, giving each scene added weight and intrigue. To survive, he must blend his peacekeeping skills with new, scrappier tactics learned from his inscrutable partner, Susie Glass (played to icy perfection by Kaya Scodelario).
The supporting cast is stellar across the board. My personal favorites were a goofy, lovable stoner with a heart of gold and a charming, reliable groundskeeper. Even the screw-up brother, whom I loathed at first, won me over by the end.
Skeptics might argue that the show feels consequence-free rather quickly. Once you’re engrossed in the plot, you quickly learn your favorite leads are never in real danger. The attractive protagonists are all clearly shielded by plot armor. Like Fast & Furious, where heroes turn invincible behind the wheel, The Gentlemen’s characters become bulletproof the moment they don their expensive “I’m doing crimes” overcoats. By the end, episodes start feeling like posh video game levels: get an objective, assess the insane obstacles, then adroitly overcome them with aristocratic finesse.
Yet this contrast only grew more endearing as I watched. It’s a rare bingeable drama that’s refreshingly low-stress, therefore perfect for unwinding at the end of a long day, like a luxurious glass of scotch for your eyes. Where Breaking Bad frays your nerves, The Gentlemen offers a comparably engrossing journey without white-knuckling your West Elm sectional.
With all its quirks, contradictions, and captivating characters, The Gentlemen is a masterclass in escapism done right. It takes the gorgeous trappings of wealth and turns them into a lively, surprising story filled with humor, suspense, and just enough critique to keep it interesting.
For anyone as skeptical of shows about the ultra-wealthy and fancy Brits as I was, The Gentlemen might just surprise you. Sometimes, the most captivating stories are the ones that embrace a sense of fun—and this one strikes that balance with a perfect blend of style and wit.
Smashing, stuff, Britain! Now, about all the colonialism…