The first three minutes of Slow Horses season five are some of the most harrowingly relevant television you will see this year. I won’t spoil it, but let’s just say it involves a white, radicalised, far-right lunatic, a campaigner for a fictional London Mayor — both of whom are men of colour — and bloodshed. The way it is filmed is brutal and unforgiving. It might even make you feel physically sick.
However, this is about as serious as the new season of Slow Horses gets. It feels odd to follow up that paragraph with this sentence, but this is the silliest, funniest and most flippant season of Slow Horses in the show’s existence. And it's this unbridled absurdity that may lead to its demise.
