Eddie Redmayne’s Nuanced Performance Is the Best Part of Peacock’s Bloated The Day of the Jackal

On paper, the idea of putting a contemporary modern-day spin on the classic 1971 spy novel The Day of the Jackal is understandable. After all, a lot has changed in this genre since then, in terms of everything from weapons and technology to the makeup of the staff at MI6. And Peacock’s new series adaptation makes some bold choices: making its tenacious government agent a Black woman, giving its originally cipher-like assassin genuine depth and emotional complexity, adding a raft of supporting characters, and giving the killer a humanizing home life. But this latest Day of the Jackal stumbles because it too often forgets the cardinal rule of thrillers: Don’t be boring.  

Clocking in at 10 episodes and openly hinting that there’s more of this story to come, this Day of the Jackal is laboriously long and frequently tedious, with a midsection that sags almost unbearably at times. There are moments where the plot becomes so repetitive, that It’s hard not to think about what a genuinely tight six or even slightly trimmed-down eight-episode version of this show might have looked like, or even an overlong one that didn’t actively derail its own momentum almost as quickly as it manages to create it. Oscar-winner Eddie Redmayne turns in a genuinely fantastic performance as the chameleon-like assassin of the series title—he’s the reason viewers will want to stick through the dullest bits—but even he can only do so much spinning of straw into gold.

Like many spy stories, the basic beats of The Day of the Jackal’s narrative work best if you don’t look at them too closely. Redmayne is the Jackal, an incredibly talented sniper and contract killer who makes a living taking out high-profile targets using an array of false identities, cutting-edge technology, and detailed disguises. After he pulls off the daring assassination of a controversial political figure by making a near-impossible shot in the series’ opening sequence, he catches the attention of MI6 agent Bianca (Lashana Lynch), who is tasked with tracking him down before he can kill again. But as her investigation heats up, she becomes increasingly obsessed with figuring out his identity, determined to bring the mysterious Jackal down at any cost.

Luckily, his latest job just might make it easy for her. A shadowy cabal of nameless influential types (one of whom is somehow played by Charles Dance??) offers the Jackal the biggest payday of his career to take out a wealthy tech mogul (Khalid Abdalla) before he can release a controversial new piece of computer software. This program, called River, is meant to reveal the financial details of billionaires and other powerful figures around the world, offering a previously unimaginable level of transparency about where business and political leaders get their funds. Billionaires can’t have that, obviously, hence the need for a top-notch assassin to take care of the problem.

The series’ overarching plot is as nebulous and nonsensical as any installment in the James Bond or Mission Impossible franchises, and none of us care that much about the secret financial documents of the moneyed elite. Almost everything to do with mysterious billionaire UCD (yes, that’s really what he goes by) is clunky, and it’s unclear what the show’s trying to do with all the hamfisted Elon Musk parallels it inserts. Thankfully, the Jackal’s multiple attempts to breach his gargantuan security are more entertaining to watch unfold, with some genuinely thrilling elements at work. High-stakes sequences in which Redmayne sports elaborate disguises, wields fake accents like weapons, and assembles guns out of a random assortment of seemingly unconnected parts make for thrilling television. The problem is that there simply isn’t enough of them. 

Redmayne does his best, deploying his charming weirdo vibes to their fullest and most devastating effect as a terrifyingly capable and elusive killer who also happens to be mostly likable and kind of an obsessive-compulsive neat freak? His Jackal contains multitudes—a loner, save for when he’s a genuine family man; a genius, except when he makes some fairly dumb entry-level mistakes; and a vaguely nice guy, except when he’s casually breaking the necks of those who are no longer of use to his plans. A Bond gone rogue persona makes for an interesting and compelling antihero of the sort we haven’t seen often in this genre space, and Redmayne fully commits to his antagonist’s complicated emotions, particularly when it comes to his obvious love for his wife and son or his occasional (and seemingly quite genuine) regrets over several deaths of those he’s determined to be nice people. 

Yet, The Day of the Jackal struggles to give its central cat-and-mouse conceit the heft or depth it deserves. Part of the reason for that is the fact that Lynch is stuck in a role that’s vastly underwritten and gives her much less to do than her co-star. Often siloed in subplots revolving around marital and family drama, she’s got surprisingly little agency or depth given that she’s ostensibly one of the driving forces behind the show. And despite Day of the Jackal’s clumsy attempts at drawing parallels between the lives of both its protagonists, her character often feels uncomfortably like an also-ran in a show she’s meant to star in.

Bianca’s obsession with the Jackal is based on themes of duty that the series only ever gives the barest of lip service to, whereas his character gets a full episode’s worth of flashbacks to break down his complicated past and heel turn into murder-for-hire. Often, she seems to be chasing him simply because someone has to, or the show doesn’t have a reason to exist. (There’s a more interesting potential reading of her actions that calls Bianca’s incessant need to be right and win at all costs into question, but the show doesn’t lean into this idea nearly enough for my taste.) In the end, she leaves a trail of bodies in her wake that rivals that of the man she’s chasing, openly manipulates both sources and colleagues and even tortures a couple of people—all while generally expressing very little remorse or regret about her actions. 

Day of the Jackal is also weirdly reluctant to build any direct tension between its two leads. It keeps its two protagonists on parallel narrative tracks for much of its 10 episodes (all of which were available to screen for critics), with the pair occasionally almost crossing paths in the wreckage of crime scenes or during narrow escapes fueled as much by luck as any kind of actual skill. Lynch and Redmayne don’t share the screen much, which means the show feels less like the two-hander it ought to be and more like the child of divorced parents awkwardly passed back and forth between them on alternating weekends. 

It’s unlikely we’re meant to openly root for the Jackal’s success as much as most viewers probably will, but the combination of Redmayne’s charisma and the fact that he’s one of the few characters who gets anything resembling emotional complexity is hard to resist. It also doesn’t help that the show itself doesn’t seem to believe in its central cat-and-mouse conceit all that much—or, at least, not enough to depict it as a battle of true equals. (It seems as likely that the Jackal will be brought low by his own rash choices or simple bad luck as it does that Bianca will somehow force him to make a mistake.) But while this isn’t the careful chess match between two titans in their respective fields that many of us may have hoped for, it’s not a total loss either. And Peacock can send a gift basket to Redmayne for that.

The Day of the Jackal premieres Thursday, November 14 on Peacock.

Lacy Baugher Milas is the Books Editor at Paste Magazine, but loves nerding out about all sorts of pop culture. You can find her on Twitter @LacyMB.

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