Apple TV+ kicks off its latest limited series with a breathless, stylish opener that wastes no time throwing you into a whirlwind of deception, pursuit, and high-stakes survival. Lucky, starring Anya Taylor-Joy as the titular con artist Luciana “Lucky” Armstrong, arrives with considerable pedigree, created by Jonathan Tropper (Banshee), drawing from Marissa Stapley’s novel, and boasting an impressive ensemble including Annette Bening, Timothy Olyphant, and Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor..
The episode opens in the aftermath of a wild night in Las Vegas. Lucky awakens to chaos: her partner Cary (Drew Starkey) and a suitcase stuffed with millions from their latest score have vanished, leaving her exposed to both federal agents and vengeful criminal elements. What follows is essentially an extended chase sequence that spans the glittering excess of Vegas to dusty backroads.
Taylor-Joy is her usual star self from the outset. Her eyes convey a potent mix of calculation and barely suppressed panic, making Lucky feel both formidable and fragile. There’s a physicality to her performance here, sprinting through casinos, improvising disguises, cutting and bleaching her hair into a peroxide blonde that somehow makes her stand out even more, that sells the exhaustion and ingenuity required to stay one step ahead. She doesn’t just run; she observes, adapts, and schemes even while cornered.
The supporting cast shines in limited screen time. Early glimpses of Bening and Olyphant hint at deeper family entanglements and moral grey areas that promise to complicate Lucky’s flight in future episodes. Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor as Agent Billie Rand brings quiet intensity to the law enforcement side, suggesting a pursuer who might have more in common with her quarry than either would admit.
The episode crams a lot in and flies by. It drops us into the action without excessive exposition, trusting the us to piece together Lucky’s backstory through fragmented flashbacks and sharp dialogue. We learn just enough about her reformed criminal past, her relationship with Cary, and the dangerous forces now closing in to draw you in but keep the mystery. The con artist tropes are familiar with identity swaps, quick thinking under pressure, unreliable allies but they’re executed with enough freshness and flair that you accept them.
Sometimes it does all move a bit to fast, the relentless momentum comes at the expense of deeper character connection. We get tantalizing hints of Lucky’s inner life, her desire to leave the game behind and the weight of her family legacy but the constant forward propulsion means these elements sometimes feel sketched rather than fully explored. Some plot conveniences in the pursuit also stretch credibility, even within the heightened logic of the genre. By the end, which includes a thrilling escape from the trunk of a moving car, it does feel like this has all been set up and the real story is yet to start. Despite this, No Shortcuts is a confident, entertaining launch that uses its star power effectively. It captures the adrenaline rush of being on the run while teasing a deeper story of of identity, trust, and the inescapable pull of one’s past to come.
This is glamorous yet gritty, with a protagonist who’s equal parts victim and architect of her fate. The gender dynamics add intrigue too with Lucky navigating a world of male egos and expectations while outsmarting most of them. It’s empowering without feeling preachy, thanks to Taylor-Joy’s nuanced portrayal of someone who’s survived by being underestimated.
The episode earns its thrills and establishes a compelling protagonist worth rooting for across the limited series run. This is more of the pulpy TV events that Apple TV have been specialising in. Glossy excitement propped up by star power.
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