The premiere of MobLand has the kind of confidence that only a project stacked with A-list talent and a director like Guy Ritchie can. Stick Or Twist drops you straight into the thick of London’s criminal underworld without apology or excess exposition, establishing ithe core characters, their fragile alliances, and the simmering rivalries that threaten to explode. What unfolds is a taut, stylish introduction to a world of major crime, and family loyalty tested by blood and betrayal.
At the centre of it all is Tom Hardy’s Harry Da Souza, the Harrigan family’s indispensable fixer. Hardy plays him with that familiar mix of quiet menace and dry wit that has become his trademark in these kinds of roles. Harry is not the flashiest figure on screen, but he is compelling. In the opening sequence he attempts to broker a truce between two long-feuding crews affiliated with the Harrigans, the Dogans and the Lazaros. This is a classic mob meeting, full of tension as the men refuse to apologise even as they reluctantly shake hands. Harry’s pragmatic assessment of the situation, relayed to his boss, sets the tone for the entire episode: temporary peace is never enough when deeper treachery is at play. When Conrad Harrigan decides the only solution is “pruning,” the resulting violence is swift, clinical, and brutal. Harry executes the order without hesitation, and the scene establishes both his competence and the ruthless efficiency of the organisation he protects.
Pierce Brosnan’s Conrad Harrigan is the top dog, a patriarch who can switch from charming dinner-table conversation to cold-blooded execution in the space of a few minutes. Brosnan leans into the Irish accent and the character’s dual nature, presenting a man who still believes in the rituals of power even as he prepares to expand his empire into more dangerous territory. Helen Mirren’s Maeve is equally magnetic, often operating in the background yet clearly the sharper strategist. Her quiet interventions carry more weight than most of the men’s loud declarations. Together, Brosnan and Mirren make the Harrigans very dangerous, they feel like a couple who have survived decades of violence by understanding each other better than anyone else does.
The episode’s crisis for Harry to fix comes from the younger generation. Eddie Harrigan, played with a coked-up, manic energy by Anson Boon, is the kind of reckless grandson every crime dynasty dreads. A drug-fueled night out with Tommy Stevenson, son of rival boss Richie Stevenson, spirals into a stabbing at a club and the subsequent disappearance of Tommy. The scene is chaotic and and feels real, Ritchie captures the violence without adding any of his trademark glamour. Eddie’s panic, the scramble to escape, and the later cover-up fill most of the episode. Harry is once again called in to make the problem vanish: intimidating the club owner into erasing CCTV, silencing the wounded victim in hospital, and disposing of incriminating evidence. These scenes showcase Hardy’s gift for understatement. Harry rarely raises his voice; the threat is quiet with the certainty that he will get the job done.
Paddy Considine’s Kevin Harrigan, Eddie’s father, provides a useful counterpoint, a man trying to hold the family business together while managing his son’s behaviours and father’s paranoia. The supporting cast, which includes lawyers, enforcers, and bent cops, fill the the show’s world with the characters you would expect straight away. Geoff Bell’s Richie Stevenson appears just long enough to establish the opposing force: a rival who is neither cartoonish nor easily dismissed. The sit-down between the families could explode at any moment, and Harry’s negotiation for time to investigate Tommy’s disappearance feels like a temporary stay of execution rather than a genuine resolution.
Where the episode occasionally falters is in the sheer volume of setup required. Introducing two crime families, their internal hierarchies, a missing person, a potential expansion into fentanyl, and the question of loyalty all in under an hour means there is a lot unanswered. Certain supporting characters register more as steroetypes at this stage but the episode flies by without giving you much time to think about it.
The final family meeting is full of impending doom. Conrad announces plans to move in on the Stevensons’ fentanyl trade. When limetime best friend Archie voices reservations that echo the rival camp’s position, Maeve’s decides he has to go, a move that hints at who is really in control. Conrad’s response is sudden, intimate, and irreversible. The shooting of a childhood friend in the middle of a family gathering is the kind of scene that announces a series is willing to be brutal in service of its story.
What MobLand accomplishes in its first chapter is the creation of a fully functioning criminal ecosystem and a protagonist worth following through its inevitable escalations. Harry Da Souza is not a romantic antihero; he is a professional who understands the rules of a violent game and plays them better than most. The Harrigans feel dangerous precisely because their power is both institutional and deeply personal. The disappearance of Tommy Stevenson hangs over everything like an unresolved debt, promising that the tentative peace brokered in the episode cannot last.
Ritchie, working from a script by Ronan Bennett and Jez Butterworth, has delivered a pilot that understands the rhythms of the genre, of which he is the master, while still finding room for character detail and moral ambiguity. Stick Or Twist executes the familiar tropes with style, intelligence, and a star cast that elevates it. It is a strong opening from a series that already feels built to be an epic saga
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