Tag: Premiere

Women love spy stories—the faction of the Internet which demands Gillian Anderson be cast as the new James Bond is proof enough. Still, espionage dramas have long been monopolized by men both on-screen and off. Even the most famous female-fronted spy or assassin shows, like Nikita or Alias, have been created by men, written by men, directed by men. That effect is visible, from the lead characters’ wardrobes to their personalities, which range from stereotypes to traditionally masculine lodged in a female body.

But last year, Phoebe Waller-Bridge debuted her psychosexual spy drama Killing Eve, and it was audacious, Sapphic, and unmercifully female in its storytelling. Starring Sandra Oh as Eve Polastri, a manic MI6 agent, and Jodie Comer as Villanelle, a vicious assassin, Killing Eve oozes femininity in a way we’ve never seen on a TV spy show. Last night, the show returned for season two and cemented the Killing Eve legacy: This is a spy series made by and for women. Finally, something just for us.

The female influence on the show shines through every aspect in season two: the humor, the fashion, Eve and Villanelle’s relationship to each other and their work. Villanelle has emerged as a sort of fashion icon for her delicious tailored suits. She’s been hailed by queer women as one of the sexiest on TV—and we’ve never seen her chest or ass exposed on the show, nor have we seen her queerness exploited. Women can be sexy in skin-tight jumpsuits, yes, but also in turtlenecks, power suits, and blood spray. In the season two premiere, Villanelle wears a kid’s PJs, and I still wanted her to be my girlfriend.

The series’ humor is also infused with an aggressively female lexicon. In last night’s episode, Villanelle tells that same kid that her “girlfriend” stabbed her “to show me how much she cared about me”—a macabre comment on toxic and obsessive girl-on-girl relationships. Look out for a joke in episode two of season two, when Villanelle dials an emergency line and utters a coded phrase—what we can assume means “I need bailing out”—by saying, “It’s Cher Horowitz. I failed my driving test.”

The award-winning series was created by Waller-Bridge; she stepped aside in season two, staying on as an executive producer and adding her long-time friend Emerald Fennell as showrunner. On a Television Critics Association panel in February, Comer applauded Fennell for adding “complexity and versatility” to the lead characters. “It’s written by a woman who understands all of this, and it’s so visible in the writing. It’s so much fun to play. It’s a real gift,” she said.

Eve and Villanelle’s relationship is particularly nuanced and unique to the female experience, as are both their characters: Eve differs from most female spies in pop culture. She’s shrewd, but somewhat guileless and pure in her intentions. She approaches her work with fervor, but also with tenderness and emotion—all of which aid in her mission, and simultaneously disrupt and overhaul it—like Homeland‘s Carrie Mathison meets Gilmore Girls‘ Lorelai Gilmore. Unlike Elizabeth Jennings of The Americans, a stone-cold, emotionless spy whose character is almost traditionally masculine, Eve’s emotional attachment to her case is what makes her special and unique. It’s the reason her boss Carolyn (Fiona Bradshaw) brings her on board. There’s no male co-star, no Mulder to her Scully—it’s Eve and Carolyn versus Villanelle.

But Villanelle is perhaps the most unique and complex female assassin character…ever? In season one, she stalks and pursues Eve, buying her fancy clothes and killing her best friend to get her attention. Without giving too much away, their dynamic takes a sharp 180-degree turn in the season two premiere; Villanelle is now vulnerable and powerless. Most male stalker or assassin characters are portrayed as animalistic. It’s about the chase, prey, bloodlust—they’re sociopathic and unemotional. But Villanelle isn’t a man. She’s desperate for love and human connection, and that manifests in truly psychotic but undeniably female ways. She’s the opposite of a sociopath—she feels with the fire of 1,000 suns. She’s totally unhinged, yes, but craves affection. Both can be true, and both make sense for a murderous woman.

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