Murphy, returning to the role for the first time since his Oscar win for Oppenheimer, remains Peaky Blinders’ ace card. His performance is everything you want and expect – composed, sharp, soulful, witty. He makes you understand why the people of Birmingham pray for Jesus Christ and Tommy Shelby, and not necessarily in that order.
The Immortal Man reaches for moments of greatness, and once or twice gets there. A scene in which Shelby crawls through Liverpool’s tunnels as the city is shelled, and his war trauma comes booming back, is intense and profound, almost mythical. His return to the Garrison pub after seven years away is handled nicely – and even manages a proper and much-needed laugh. However, this is also a film which asks: can a sexy gypsy shag Tommy back to his old self? And despite the themes of grief, trauma and fatherly abandonment, the film is a curiously unmoving experience. It’s clinical to a fault.
It’s stylish, yes, it has verve and swagger and real love for the time and the place. But this is Tommy Shelby and the Peaky Blinders playing their greatest hits on what feels a little like a farewell tour. Those peaks just aren’t as razor-sharp as they used to be.
In cinemas now; on Netflix from March 20
