Steven Knight’s Gritty Victorian Boxing Drama A Thousand Blows Strikes True
Photo: Courtesy of Hulu
Even if you don’t know the name Steven Knight, it’s a fairly safe bet you’ve seen one of his shows before. The man behind such diverse properties as Peaky Blinders, Rogue Heroes, Taboo, The Veil, a Great Expectations that gave us Olivia Colman as Miss Havisham, and what is perhaps the darkest take on A Christmas Carol in modern history, Knight is not only someone who seemingly never sleeps, but he is also a writer who embraces “swing for the fences” storytelling in unexpected formats. That he decided to make a show about the underground world of Victorian-era bare-knuckle boxing isn’t exactly what you’d call a surprise at this point. But what is striking about A Thousand Blows, a six-part period piece that arrives on Hulu this month, is how modern it feels, and how deftly it uses its historical setting to wrestle with very contemporary social issues and themes.
Don’t worry, the show easily fulfills the promise of copious fisticuffs implied in its title, including multiple bloody bouts in both a brutal East End pub and a highbrow boxing club on the west side of London. But A Thousand Blows is about much more than boxing, and you don’t have to know—or care—about the ins and outs of hand-to-hand fighting to enjoy the larger battles playing out onscreen. Stuffed with the sorts of characters one doesn’t normally associate with the prim Victorian period and featuring everything from class tensions and misogyny to racism and revenge, the series is an ode to survival and the morally gray choices one must often make to do so.
The story begins with the arrival of Hezekiah Moscow (Malachi Kirby) and Alec Munroe (Francis Lovehall) in London. Wide-eyed, fresh off the boat from their native Jamaica, and with some significant trauma trailing in their wake, they’ve come to England seeking work and a fresh start. But the promise of a new (old) world isn’t all it’s cracked up to be—Hezekiah’s dream of working as a lion tamer fizzles, the men struggle to find lodgings that will accept Black tenants, and both wind up fighting in a local pub’s boxing ring to make money. There, they catch the attention of Mary Carr (Erin Doherty), the leader of the infamous girl gang known as the Forty Elephants, who’s working on a plan that will see her motley assortment of pickpockets and con artists land the biggest score of their lives. Mary thinks Hezekiah can be useful to her scheme, but things get complicated when he runs afoul of Sugar Goodson (Stephen Graham), the East End’s most notorious bare-knuckle fighter. Goodson, infuriated at the fact that Hezekiah would have beaten him had his brother Treacle (the names in this family!) not interfered in their bout, is desperate for a rematch and a chance to reclaim his pride.
Sugar, once the East End’s fiercest and most intimidating figure, is aging (despite his insistence otherwise) and the way of life he pioneered is slowly disappearing. Civilized society types are looking to legalize—and profit from—the sport that has given him power, respect, and an outlet for the almost feral, raging anger that so visibly sits beneath his skin. For all Goodson’s overtly and openly furious vibes, Graham gives a remarkably nuanced performance, allowing the audience to glimpse pieces of the lonely, damaged man who exists beneath the hard exterior of the infamous bruiser. Kirby, for his part, does a rather remarkable job of serving as the audience entry point into this chaotic world. His story of finding community among those who are similarly demeaned and othered by the world around them, such as the Chinese landlord Mr. Lao (James Tobin) and the girls of the Forty Elephants, is surprisingly emotionally compelling, and his spiral into increasing jadedness as he sees that his new home is just as bigoted the one he left behind is delicately told.