Slow Horses Season-Finale Recap: Family Matters

One of the common threads of Slow Horses throughout its run is how carefully Jackson Lamb minds his misfit flock despite (or maybe because of) their shortcomings and their purgatorial status at Slough House. The finale to this excellent season makes the other side of the equation clear, too: The Park doesn’t care at all about the “slow horses,” so if Lamb doesn’t look after them, they’re completely exposed. Or simply disposable. And perhaps not even due for proper benefits if they die in the field. There doesn’t even seem to be the possibility for upward mobility. If they happen to do well, it’s not as if they’re going to leave this fart-choked satellite unit anyway. Lamb’s agents are like the inverse of Stephen Root’s character in Office Space: They’re essentially fired but still collecting checks.

There’s a strong point of contrast between Lamb’s willingness to cover for River as long as possible early in the season — when River shot a look-alike assassin in the face and left for France on his own — and the Park, under Claude’s directive, taking out a “shoot to kill” order on River after he’s kidnapped by Patrice, Frank Harkness’s last remaining mercenary. Even Taverner, who has a history of undermining and double-crossing Lamb and Slough House when it suits her, seems taken aback by Claude’s cold-bloodedness in this episode, because she knows River well enough to find it unlikely that he’d turn on them. “If I’m wrong, one man dies,” says Claude to Taverner. “If you’re wrong, God only knows what the potential body count could be. So this is my decision.” (The “this is my decision” part is crucial, too, for Claude, who has been trying to assert his authority over Taverner as much as possible, even if it flies in the face of logic.)

But let’s not bury the lede any further here: We discover in the stunning cold open that River is Harkness’s son, so maybe there is some lingering concern that he might want to return to Daddy. I’ll confess to being confused by the painting at Les Arbres that River had taken a photo of earlier in the season, so I did not mention it here — but it’s an elegant way for him to put two and two together since the same image had appeared on birthday cards he’d gotten from his mother as a child. Harkness has brought River to an unexpectedly public place to drop this paternal bombshell and to propose that he join his now drastically whittled ranks of homegrown mercenaries. Harkness has a carrot: River can take his offer and make lots of money with him rather than at an operation that’s currently got a shoot-to-kill order on him. He also has a stick: “I was hoping you’d come onboard with me, which helps me out,” says Harkness. “Then I wouldn’t have to kill you, which helps you out.”

It’s a lousy situation for River, who tries a pitiful bit of subterfuge on his phone to alert Louisa of his whereabouts, but Harkness is ready for that and prepared to slit his femoral artery under the table if he gets out of line. That’s what has made Harkness such a tantalizing villain for the show: Hugo Weaving always plays him as a man of preternatural confidence, whether he’s about to get carved up by his clients in a hotel, sitting in a public place about to be surrounded by MI5 agents, or actually in custody, awaiting a presumably long prison sentence. He has contingency plans in place that keep him protected and a calm self-assurance about his own survival. After all, he was able to spend decades breeding killers on a French estate without much serious resistance. He’s on that secret-island-lair level of spy-thriller supervillainy.

For Lamb, there’s never a question of whether River will remain loyal to him. He inspires loyalty despite appearances. Take poor Marcus Longridge, who had spent much of the season succumbing to his gambling addiction and ends it on the wrong end of a shoot-out with Patrice. Lamb and Marcus haven’t shared much screen time together this season, so we can assume that Lamb either wasn’t cognizant of Marcus pawning his gun to settle gambling debts or understood, as Marcus did, that relapse is part of the recovery process. Marcus did not cover himself in glory when Patrice shoved him through a storefront window on a busted tail, and in this episode he tries fecklessly to buy back his gun at the same price he pawned it. (“I sell items for more than I bought them” is a concept that the black market shares with the legitimate market.) He was incompetent most of the time and exceptionally brave when it mattered.

But in the aftermath of Marcus’s death in a shoot-out with Patrice at Slough House, Lamb talks to Taverner about Marcus as if he were 007, arguing her out of five-year payments to his family and up to a ten-year “active-agent increment.” Taverner is too annoyed with Lamb and preoccupied with more pressing issues to care, but it matters to Lamb, just as his discovery of Sam Chapman’s body genuinely affects him. In Chapman’s office, he comes across a big pile of cases and a quarter-filled bottle of Irish whiskey, and he ends up leaving the room with the liquor.

The season ends fittingly with Lamb having summoned River to a bar to get him to sign some paperwork for an “operational bonus” and maybe stay for a drink, which is as close as Lamb gets to sentimental. In the sequence before, River deposited his grandfather in a retirement home, which (mostly) squelches Lamb’s suspicion that David might have been strategically playing up his dementia. David is upset with his grandson, saying that he promised never to put him in a home like this and speculating that River may be angry that he was never told about his real father. On that point, the show is ambiguous, and Jack Lowden’s face reflects it. Either way, there are plenty of narrative strands involving Harkness that can carry over into season five. For now, Lamb must feel something close to a father to River given the shortcomings of his real father and a grandfather who’s either too far gone or didn’t have his best interests in mind.

Slough House is not a very, very, very fine house, but it’s the only one that he can call home.

Shots

• That magnificent, bittersweet song that closes the episode is Nick Drake’s “Hazey Jane,” off his 1971 record, Bryter Layter. Every Drake album is essential (and there aren’t many of them), and that’s a fine place to start.

• It’s great that River follows his father’s advice — “When you’re the target, attack. When you’re being pursued, stand still. If someone offers you their hand, you show them your fist” — to catch him at the train station, but it’d be better if the show didn’t feel as if it had to remind viewers of the line again.

• River on his upbringing: “I really don’t have any regrets about not being raised a child soldier.”

• Roddy: “I’m back on the market, by the way. Sex market. Turns out that Kim didn’t exist.” Shirley: “What’s the stuff that’s too embarrassing for you to say out loud?”

• Terrific use of Coe in this episode. After a season of mostly moping weirdly in the background, he quietly prepares a kettle for tea during the showdown with Patrice and helpfully whips the boiling water at his face. Then he has surprisingly comforting words for Shirley about how Marcus felt about her as a partner and fellow addict: “He loved you, and he wanted you to love yourself.”

• River is not in the mood for compliments from his long-lost dad: “You just put a grenade in my hood. Don’t fucking ‘Son’ me.”