I walked into MobLand excited for what the show could be and ended up more bored than I thought possible with a series about organized crime in the U.K. Paramount+’s new crime series brings together an impressive range of talent—Tom Hardy, Pierce Brosnan and Helen Mirren—under the direction of Guy Ritchie. MobLand felt like a surefire win but delivered a mixed bag that never quite reached its full potential.
MobLand follows Harry Da Souza (Hardy), a street-smart fixer struggling to sort things out as he is caught between two warring London crime families: the Harrigans, led by Conrad (Brosnan) and his wife Maeve (Mirren), and their rivals, the Stevensons. When Conrad’s grandson Eddie (Anson Boon) becomes involved in a violent incident with the Stevenson heir, Harry must navigate increasingly dangerous waters while trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy in his home life with his wife, Jan (Joanne Froggatt) and their teenage daughter.
In theory, it’s a solid way to build a series and has all the ingredients to be something special—but somehow, it can’t find its footing. The story behind MobLand is interesting, having evolved from what was initially planned as a Ray Donovan prequel called The Donovans. The DNA of that series remains evident, with Hardy’s Harry filling the fixer role previously occupied by Liev Schreiber. Hardy brings a controlled intensity to the character, striking the perfect balance between deference and power as a man who’s often the smartest in the room but can’t let others know it.
MobLand feels like a series that could come from the mind of Ritchie, but often plays like a show trying to mimic the style rather than being the genuine article. MobLand bears all the hallmarks of a British gangster drama—copious profanity, brutal violence and morally compromised characters navigating a criminal underworld.
Within the first 10 minutes, viewers are treated to a machine-gun execution and a blood-streaked sequence in a sex club set to The Prodigy’s Firestarter. It’s all here—everything we’ve come to expect from the formula—but somehow, it doesn’t come together despite the obvious talent at work on all sides of the production.
Brosnan and Mirren provide solid support as the Harrigan patriarchs. Brosnan plays Conrad with appropriate sliminess as a crime boss whose greed drives him to expand from heroin into the fentanyl market, while Mirren brings Lady Macbeth vibes to Maeve—the power behind the throne, always working behind the scenes to get ahead. Paddy Considine rounds out the impressive cast as Kevin, the Harrigans’ son, who seems to be the heir apparent to the family business.
“MobLand bears all the hallmarks of a British gangster drama—copious profanity, brutal violence and morally compromised characters navigating a criminal underworld.”
The two-episode premiere, directed by Ritchie himself, establishes several intriguing plotlines. Beyond the immediate crisis involving Eddie and the missing Stevenson son, there’s potential drama brewing within the Harrigan empire, threats from their rivals, and domestic tension in Harry’s home life. It’s a solid foundation that could develop in interesting directions. But despite everything that should work, it manages to be painfully dull as it sets up the world of the series. I frequently checked my watch during the viewing and often felt like scenes dragged on far beyond what was necessary.
Created by Ronan Bennett (The Day of the Jackal), with scripts co-written by Jez Butterworth (Edge of Tomorrow), MobLand seems caught between different tonal approaches. It lacks the absurdist wit that made Ritchie’s recent Netflix series The Gentlemen so entertaining while also failing to achieve the social commentary of Bennett’s acclaimed Top Boy. Instead, it settles into a more straightforward crime narrative that, while competently executed, feels overly familiar.
Ritchie takes a surprisingly subdued approach to the visuals, eschewing his trademark stylistic flourishes for a more conventional presentation. This restraint serves the story but removes some of the directorial personality that might have elevated the material above its formulaic elements.
Ritchie built a visual formula we know and love in his work, and with MobLand, that’s absent—and the series feels all the worse for it. What could have shone with a frantic style and bold concept instead falls flat against a sea of British crime shows that ultimately execute the concept better.
Even with its issues, MobLand’s best asset is definitely Hardy, who appears in almost every scene of the opening episodes. His performance as Harry is measured and compelling, bringing depth to a character who must maintain his composure whether he’s dealing with family drama or staring down the barrel of a gun. He’s intense—but at times, it’s a bit much, and it takes away from the show’s energy.
The supporting cast is, overall, incredibly strong, with Anson Boon making a particularly compelling impression as the psychopathic Eddie, giving the character a Prince Joffrey-like quality that adds unpredictability to the proceedings. Joanne Froggatt brings humanity to Jan, Harry’s wife, who has grown weary of their precarious lifestyle.
The show doesn’t lack for violence or intensity, with a particularly brutal bar fight involving Hardy in the early episodes suggesting more action to come. However, the narrative sometimes feels like it’s holding back, saving its biggest revelations for later episodes while the premiere focuses on establishing the complex web of relationships.
At its core, MobLand is a story about loyalty and family, examining how those values become twisted within criminal enterprises. The tagline “family above everything” serves as both a mission statement and an ominous warning of the moral compromises to come.
I honestly wanted to like MobLand, and I hope the rest of the series improves—but so far, I’m disappointed. While MobLand has the ingredients for a compelling crime drama—a stellar cast, an accomplished creative team and rich thematic material—it never quite comes together into something truly special. It’s a serviceable addition to the crowded landscape of prestige crime dramas, but one that leaves viewers with the nagging feeling it should be more than the sum of its impressive parts.
