There is now no question that Top Boy changed the face of British TV for ever. When it landed on Channel 4 in 2011, it was the first drama to depict the morally complex world of inner-city estates’ drug gangs. It created a generation of mainstream British Black stars – from Letitia Wright to Micheal Ward – and rapidly accelerated the worldwide fame of UK musical legends such as Kano and Little Simz. The devotion it inspired among its fans finally convinced British commissioners that there is mainstream appetite for authentic onscreen depictions of Black life. Arguably we have it to thank for everything from hilarious BBC sitcom Dreaming Whilst Black to Peckham romcom Rye Lane.
But for viewers, there’s something much more important about this show – it is absolutely cracking TV. Its fifth and final series was a masterclass in creating tense television that was both impossible to predict, and to tear yourself away from. Right from the moment we caught up with Sully (Kane Robinson) and Dushane (Ashley Walters) to find the onetime best pals and head honchos of the Summerhouse Estate’s drug gang now barely maintaining a fragile truce, it was clear that all bets were off. There were shifting power dynamics, heart-in-mouth shootouts in retirement homes and TV’s most heart-rending bath-based death.
At times, the jeopardy was almost too intense to watch. Characters rehearsed revenge killings in front of mirrors, or pulled off desperate robberies as they plummeted towards grief-related self-destruction. By episode three, even Dushane – the more level-headed of the leads – was engaging in the world’s worst attempt to clean up a murder scene. Sure, sure: splash a bit of bleach about – never mind that your prints are everywhere.
But this was also a show about so much more than just adrenaline-fuelled gangster tales. Characters’ inner lives were served up via touching vignettes, from Jaq (Jasmine Jobson) and Lauryn’s (Saffron Hocking) nail bar-based sisterly bonding (“What are these things? Gems? Get them away from me!”) to Sully’s charmingly playful walks to school with his world-weary daughter (“Can you walk a bit faster please Dad? Not that fast!”). The moment when Stefan (Araloyin Oshunremi) sat on the bench he used to meet his now-dead brother Jamie on, proudly talking about his new girlfriend in the hope that his sibling might smile down on him from the afterlife? Dry eyes were not easy.
It continued its quest to show that estate-based, drug-related violence does not happen in isolation, shining a spotlight on the government’s aggressive attempts to deport Windrush babies despite them being in Britain legally (or as one of the Summerhouse crew put it: “Trying to send him to Rwanda or some shit”). When aggressive police use of a battering ram prompts a sit-down protest, it’s a powerful statement of the “them and us” dynamic that can further elevate the community figurehead status of the kingpins who recruit children to sell crack cocaine. And one that’s never been more timely, given the ludicrousness of the government’s attempts to enforce a deportation policy one of its own cabinet described as “batshit”.
There were impressively cast new characters – Barry Keoghan as a spellbindingly cocky villain and Brian Gleeson’s borderline-comic uptight gang boss. And even the series regulars put in their all-time best performances, with Jobson looking increasingly like a breakout star and Kano’s turn as a human powder keg getting more powerful with each series. They deserve all the awards come red carpet season.
As the show that was so memorably brought back to our screens by Drake bowed out once and for all, it did it in exactly the manner that you’d expect from such a thrilling series: with a bang. Rather than waiting until its quality slipped, it ended on unquestionably its finest series yet, with a climactic scene that is shocking, bewildering and so compelling that it demanded rewatching again and again. In a year that’s seen fantastic finales from landmark dramas including Succession, Happy Valley and Barry, Top Boy’s arguably trumps them all. Given the starrier shows to come to a halt this year, will its phenomenal final scene be cruelly overlooked in conversations about the year’s greatest TV climax? Quite possibly. But that’s OK. Either way Top Boy changed TV for ever.
