There are high expectations, and then there is what fans—many dressed for the occasion—felt as they stepped into theaters to watch the completion of the Shelby family’s story in Peaky Blinders: The Immortal Man. The film answers the question: “Whatever happened to Thomas Shelby, the famous gypsy gangster?” When the final credits rolled, no one left. The audience sat in stunned silence, processing the film they had seen, and the conclusion of a story that’s permeated their lives for the past thirteen years.
Attempting to follow a long-running series—over thirty-six hours of near perfection in the case of Peaky Blinders—with a feature film is a daunting task. Writer and creator Steven Knight took on that challenge, though it was never his original intention. Knight has long stated that he intended to tell the story of the Peaky Blinders between the end of World War I and the beginning of World War II, but that was meant to conclude with another six-episode season.
The pandemic, as well as the tragic loss of the immensely talented Helen McCrory, who portrayed Polly Gray in the first 5 seasons, not only altered plans for season 6, but also cast doubt on whether the story would ever receive a more definitive conclusion. While season 6 left many narrative threads unresolved, it did provide one of the most beautiful closing sequences imaginable, offering Tommy Shelby (Cillian Murphy) an oddly comforting, open-ended farewell. Still, fans clamored for more of Tommy and the Peaky Blinders.
The film picks up 6 years after we saw Tommy ride away from his burning caravan on a symbolically white horse. He now lives in isolation, again succumbing to the trauma and guilt that’s plagued his life. Haunted by visions of his deceased daughter Ruby, he’s writing a book in an effort to confront his past and silence the voices in his head.
While Tommy has no intention of rejoining the world, the war has come to Birmingham. The BSA factory is bombed, and a new threat, John Beckett (Tim Roth), has enlisted the Peaky Blinders—now run by his son Duke (Barry Keoghan)—to help the Nazis sabotage the British economy by introducing counterfeit pound notes. While his father spent most of his life serving to advance his station and that of his family, he also fought against those that looked down on them, a mutually beneficial objective to his country. Duke, in contrast, seems content to watch the world burn.
With familiar settings, costumes, and gorgeous cinematography, complete with slow motion walks through the streets of Birmingham set to a contemporary score, it all looks and sounds correct. Even so, the film never quite captures the full spirit of the series. Much like Tommy is haunted by the ghosts of those he’s lost, the film is haunted by their absence as well. It’s a tangible feeling, and regardless of the circumstances that prevented them from returning, some of the soul of this world is now missing. The Immortal Man is a film shaped as much by what it cannot include as by what it brings to life in lieu of it. Its greatest strengths and weaknesses stem from that limitation. Ironic, as Thomas Shelby is often said to have none.
Supporting characters like Johnny Dogs (Pecky Lee), Charlie Strong (Ned Dennehy), Curly (Ian Peck), and Hayden Stagg (Stephen Graham) are wonderful to see return and ground the story, but most of Tommy’s family is gone. As his sister Ada Thorne (Sophie Rundle)—now working in parliament in opposition to her nephew’s interests—reminds Duke as he boasts that he’s involved the Peaky Blinders in something greater than his father had; Tommy did it with family, even if it was often a toxic one. While most of that family was gone by the series’ conclusion, Ada and tortured older brother Arthur (Paul Anderson) remained, and while Arthur’s fate is integral to this story and Tommy’s conscience, he is missed on screen.
To compensate for the absence of several fan favorites who had been with the series from the beginning, the film injects some heavy hitters. Great actors are attracted to good writing, and Peaky Blinders has always featured an eclectic ensemble of phenomenal talent; the film is no exception. Joining the cast are Keoghan, Roth, and Rebecca Ferguson.
Ferguson is a welcome presence in any project, but the existence of her character feels forced and nonsensical. The role that she plays in the story—to convince Tommy to come back and help his son—could have been easily filled by Esme (Aimee-Ffion Edwards), an established character who originally made Tommy aware of Duke. Doing so would have reintroduced a familiar face, made the narrative more coherent, and required no additional changes to the script. Instead, she is introduced as Kaulo, a Romani seer, and twin sister of Duke’s mother. Still, Ferguson plays the character’s enigmatic nature beautifully. She promises Tommy peace in return, and it’s impossible to ever take your eyes off her, alleviating some of the frustration you may feel towards the writing.
Rarely can you criticize the writing of Knight, as he’s consistently delivered some of the most powerful moments and eloquent dialogue ever brought to screen both within this world and his other projects. While they provide much more to love than dislike, he and director Tom Harper combine to miss the mark with some big swings taken in the film. Some choices made in regard to beloved characters felt cruel and unearned. While they might make sense if you could see them develop over a longer story, they feel abrupt and against type in this abbreviated format.
The majority of what doesn’t fully work for the film is its pacing. As packed with action and iconic scenes as the series was, it also took its time to develop its characters and let them breathe in each narrative, often saying more with silence. The slower paced first half of the film feels the most authentic, but once Tommy returns to Small Heath, everything moves rapidly.
The harshest criticism may be how crucial screen time is squandered on frivolous scenes. An unnecessary sex scene and the disposal of a body are glaring examples. Even the first confrontation between Tommy and Duke, reduced to a muddy wrestling match, likely felt more impactful on the page than translated to screen. A more deliberate encounter in the Garrison, allowing the pent‑up aggression and despair to register on their faces, would have carried far greater weight.
It’s a shame that we don’t get more quiet moments between them, or even enough of Duke leading the Blinders. There is a very powerful establishing sequence early on, but then the story moves quickly away, leaving that largely unexplored.
Given the space to unfold over a longer period, there is an interesting dynamic at play with Duke looking for validation wherever he can find it, and both Beckett and Tommy could provide it in their own way. Watching Beckett continue to manipulate Duke from a father figure type role that he never had with Tommy would be interesting. In the confines of a feature film, however, that turn would have to happen far too quickly.
The best adversaries for Tommy throughout the show were built through the course of a six-hour season, often longer. Roth, by contrast, is forced to make his impression almost immediately. By blending a peculiar sense of humor with a quiet ruthlessness, Roth asserts himself quickly as both memorable and formidable, a testament to him as an actor.
Music has always functioned as a central character in Peaky Blinders, so it comes as no surprise that the film’s score is exceptional. There are 2 hauntingly beautiful sequences that will linger in your mind long after the film ends, and their impact cannot be overstated. The shot of Ada in the rain, standing in the middle of the road from the trailer and promotional stills is far more powerful in context than you could anticipate. Paired with the slow building “Puppet” by Grian Chatten, the scene becomes an absolute masterclass of filmmaking. When done well, music can convey emotion more effectively than dialogue or anything you can show on screen and it’s something the show has always understood. The film’s final frames reinforce that strength, managing to rival the perfect ending that we saw at the close of season 6. “Hunting the Wren” by Lankum carries the story into the credits with devastating beauty.
Cillian Murphy has received increased attention and acclaim in recent years for his Oscar-winning performance in Oppenheimer—deservedly so—but for many fans, his portrayal of the restless Thomas Shelby will stand as the defining performance of his career. Over more than thirteen years, Murphy embodied one of the best‑written characters in television history. With confidence, restraint, and an unmistakable intensity behind his piercing blue eyes, he brought a style and presence to the role that no one else could. If this is the last time he dons the Peaky Blinders cap, his impact will have been felt from his first ride into the streets on horseback in the series’ opening moments to his final return, again on horseback, greeted with reverence and adoration after a long absence. Facing war, rivals, complex family dynamics and his own demons, Murphy’s Tommy Shelby isn’t just a performance; it’s the definition of iconic.
With Peaky Blinders: The Immortal Man, Steven Knight attempts to tell an ambitious story, and while flawed, it remains both entertaining and hauntingly poetic. In many ways, events come full circle, allowing Knight to complete the story he originally set out to tell while offering fans who have deeply connected to this world and especially to Tommy Shelby, a welcome continuation. To borrow a familiar refrain from the series, we believed Peaky Blinders was over when the show ended, so everything that came after was extra.
