For the first few minutes of The Day of the Jackal, you wonder why they have bothered to pay the Oscar winner Eddie Redmayne at all. He is so well disguised as an older German man that it could be anybody buried under all those prosthetics. Yet soon enough, after much prancing around an office building – where he shoots anyone who gets in the way – we are finally treated to the unboxing of Redmayne, as he peels away the mask, the wig, the makeup and the contact lenses. The scene is impressive, chilling and just a little bit silly – a neat summary of how the drama itself will unfold.
This is an update of Frederick Forsyth’s 1971 novel, thrust into the modern world of international politics, espionage, the dark web and criminal underworlds. Redmayne is the Jackal, a shapeshifting assassin so competent he can accurately fire a sniper rifle and hit his target from a record-breaking distance – so far away that, at first, MI6 refuses to believe that it is possible. He is a ruthless killing machine, sparing no thought for the collateral damage to the passersby who happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And yet, in this version, he is also a family man, keeping a big assassin-shaped secret from his wife and son. If the Jackal is typically elusive, this detail aims to flesh him out and make him more human.
We first meet the Jackal in Munich, where he has been hired to take out a divisive populist politician, an act that has potentially international ramifications. The case attracts the interest of British intelligence, in particular Lashana Lynch’s Bianca, a gun expert with a hunch about this new supersniper. “Snipers are my patch,” she says, as she muscles in on the investigation. This whole show is a gun-lover’s paradise, as characters salivate over firearms models, innovations and techniques. The Jackal is good at disguises and puzzling his way out of seemingly impossible traps, but he is best at shooting people squarely in the head with powerful weapons.
It turns into an inevitable cat-and-mouse scenario, with the roles constantly shifting, and both Bianca and the Jackal leaving a trail of destruction in their bid to outfox the other.
But it takes its time to get there. The first five instalments of the 10-episode run are being released in one go, and watching them in a single sitting leaves an impression that it is a little overstuffed with parts that are destined to interlock at some point – if only the Jackal could take a break from hopping around various glamorous locations, where he must tie up a surprising number of loose ends.
There is a loyalist paramilitary storyline and a billionaire tech bro turned philanthropist who is threatening to expose the financial networks that run the world. There are also parallel family issues, as Bianca and the Jackal’s lines of work interrupt their ability to parent without the worry of getting shot every time they go into the office. The family dynamics slow it down and feel oddly tacked on to an otherwise energetic thriller.
The opening episode is excellent: it promises a taut, lean drama that makes the most out of its acting talent and lays the foundations for a whole lot of well‑executed action. Watching the Jackal carry out his assignments and get away with his audacious plans – despite terrible odds to the contrary – is genuinely exciting. Even though you know he is probably not going to get caught, every checkpoint has you holding your breath, just in case he messes up.
But it eases off as it goes along and starts to take on the afflictions of most prestige TV right now. It is too long, overly reliant on showy changes of location – look, he is in Estonia/Sweden/Germany/Spain – and abandons the precision of the first episode in favour of complicating every scenario. Ultimately, in the first half of the season, that means we aren’t really given enough time with either the Jackal or Bianca to fully invest in their sides of the story.
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This doesn’t rewrite the playbook and is more of a familiar prospect than you might suspect it is going to be at the outset; it is Slow Horses without the sly sense of humour or taste for the absurd, while Redmayne’s mega-range sniper is a kind of Bond gone bad. But even if it doesn’t quite deliver on its early potential, it’s highly enjoyable, trigger-happy stuff.