Eddie Redmayne’s Nuanced Performance Is the Best Part of Peacock’s Bloated The Day of the Jackal
Photo by: Marcell Piti/Carnival Film & Television Limited
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.