Killing Me — Netflix reawakens the best damn lesbian spy series with the worst ending
Spoilers
I so wanted a Corky and Violet ending. I didn’t need the Tom Jones or the vintage pickup truck with cow skin covers, but damn it writers, couldn’t Eve and Villanelle have swam away together? Or just a little a pas de deux water ballet before climbing back up from the Thames? Tragic lesbian romances are just so… passé. How could the piece de resistance not match the Molly Goddard dress and Parisian interiors? Glory was just within reach with the final bloodbath. So much hope with Eve dancing the electric slide whilst her twin flame waltzed through the slaughter of The 12 in all her Villanelle glory. Turning her back on the imaginary drag version of herself as Jesus, our murderess realizes no one is to be saved but herself and her love. Why the Shakespearean left hook? I bet even Baz Luhrman would disprove. I realize that I am about six years late on this review. However, thanks to Netflix licensing agreements, I only just got to lose a week of my life Eving it. But I am Sandra oh so glad I did. This review is for late (Jodie) “comers” to the series, and perhaps late coming outers, like myself.
Quick synopsis if you have not watched the series and do not mind the aforesaid spoilers. Killing Eve, is a modern spy drama, based on a female assassin, who works for an anonymous global influencer group,” The 12.” Eve Polastri played by Sandra Oh, is the MI6 desk agent that gets tasked with tracking down the assassin, Villanelle played by Liverpool actress, Jodie Comer. Vilanelle is a Russian orphan plucked from prison at a tender age where her sociopathic tendencies had already reared their head. She is taken from prison and trained to carry out the dirty work of the 12. Villanelle has a penchant for the dramatic, killing her victims with poisonous hairpins that she gently slips from her silken blond locks or any number of other sexually charged scenarios that she cons her way into to gain access to her targets. Eve, is married to her devoted husband Nico, and is slowly dying the death of mundanity as she microwaves her tea and frequents her weekly bridge club. The recruitment to catch the international killer appeals to the dark side of Eve that will eventually unfold.
From afar, but increasingly more frequently, the women will be drawn into each others’ spheres in a cat and cat game. The attraction is part business but more fascination. Their relationship evolves in and around emotions of fear to obsession but ultimately the undeniable and intangible energy when two souls are simply drawn to one another.
After the sucker punch of the final episode, which really did kill the queer part of my heart, I had to gobble up reviews for consolation that my desolation had company. And, in fact, it did. Abundant company. I read that the finale even deviated from the original content by Luke Jennings who had a more Le Carre´ending for our Dark Agent Princess and her bad ass Rusky. So why did the producers choose to kill perhaps the most irresistible gay female lead in television history? Was it a bury the homo move or just a disappointing attempt at authenticity to a series(whose reality in any event shined more in human emotions over plot?) According to the Executive Producer, Sally Woodward Gentle, Villanelle’s demise was true to the story because “Villanelle works — and has worked — in a very high-risk job.” Really? Then I suppose every solider in every war movie should eventually be riddled with lethal gunfire. This was not just a “kill your darling,” and really, what is more darling than a puffy cheeked, doe eyed assassin with the heart of a romantic? And speaking of soldiers, by the way, a quick fact check of Saving Private Ryan’s landing scene, will reveal that you cannot be hit with bullets under water (Villanelle’s sad fate). I’m sorry but you just cannot go from ordering curly fries together to an underwater rendition of the “Creation of Adam” with Eve reaching out to a Villanelle cast in bloody angel wings. Did they forget this was also a black comedy?
For those of you whom missed the Violet, Corky reference, watching “Eve” was like a time warp back to 1996, and the release of “Bound”, the first, and perhaps only noir lesbian double crossing mafia movie produced by the Wachowski brothers turned sisters (yes, both directors, writers and producers later coming out as transwomen). Back then, I remember reading about the film’s release in The Village Voice, desperate to watch this groundbreaking film when it made it’s way to VHS. The images of Gina Gershon in leather and Jennifer Tilly in fishnets bound and gagged far exceeded all expectation of that time period. I dashed to Blockbuster while my then husband was out preparing for a clandestine movie night in the company of one. “Eve” brought me back to the primal pull of emotional tango between manless women. The danger and forbiddeness of an attraction that can blow all of what you thought you were apart. The sweet dance of sexual tension laced with vulnerability and power, entwining itself until you cannot tell them apart. “Bound” like Eve, creates an intimacy of character, an emotional journey you take with the them through self discovery.
For me, the most poignant part in the series is when Eve is seen sitting in a bus stop, shortly after witnessing the aftermath of one of Villanelle’s kills. On one of the interior panes, there is a splintering of the glass. Eve traces her fingers along the crack, contemplative of its fragility. Then, without thought, she applies pressure and the entire sheet shatters all around and on top of her. It is in this moment we understand that she will not be able to stop herself on this pursuit of attraction that will fracture the life she built, regardless of the fallout. It is in these moments that the series shines. The complexity of the feelings between our main characters, and the exploration of attraction, the need for understanding and betrayal. The series also explores the amorphous definition of “psychopath” and unlike so many historical gay personas tied to this often misdiagnosis, we are exposed to the potential varied sides of such a personality disorder and how their longing for consistent love, might actually lead to reformation versus demise. Many scenes hint at what is truly more “psychopathic”, those who order killing or the ones who carry it out? In that vein, I felt the writers only had to be true to the characters it wove, not the contrived plot that really never made sense to begin with (we never learn who the 12 really are or why they are killing various noteworthy individuals who appear wholly unconnected).
They say those who can’t do, teach. Thus, it would be unfair for me to critique the season finale without offering an alternative. In my season 4 finale, Eve does not dance the electric slide. She does not stand above deck while her lover sets out to finish a joint mission. In my version, no one is in clad in fatigues or plain clothed. No, our couple returns to the sleek dresses much like the one Vilanelle picks out for Eve, and ships back to her with her stolen luggage. We see them prepare ensemble, in full femme fatale form before descending below deck to the Twelve’s private gathering. There, to some Lana Del Ray style soundtrack, (or Unloved whose music perfectly accompany much of the scenes), they coordinate their dance of death upon the 12. We can keep the slow motion, but they work together, slicing and dicing, throwing knives back and forth to each other like wide receivers. We see some of the faces they encountered along the way, revealing them. When it is over, they return above deck. Carolyn can have her sniper shot to V’s shoulder to add some prime colors
but the girls quickly dive overboard together. Carolyn can also have her “jolly good.” Fast frame however back to Cuba, where Vilanelle had the opportunity to put the bullet in Carolyn. Here, we see a busy scene of our pair, not on a beach (too campy) but rather in a meeting. New faces, new operatives, questions can be left open as to whom. A back room of a smoky club, doing what they do best.
