Not to a thumb on the scales of Brian Grubb’s delightful Slow Horses “Incompetence Index,” but the case for Marcus as Slough House’s most inept Joe has been strengthened quite a bit this season, as his off-the-job gambling addiction and on-the-job lunk-headedness have coalesced. He’s a relatively minor player on the show compared to Lamb, River, Taverner, and even Standish, yet the breathtaking efficiency of his screw-ups this week was one of the most entertaining threads of a breezily confident episode. There will come a time when Marcus and the other slow horses will have to stumble toward some measure of success in the field, but they’re at a point now when they can make mistakes, and he’s taking full advantage.
Consider his journey in “Penny For Your Thoughts”: Last week, we learned that he was back off the wagon with his gambling problem, despite his odd protest to Shirley that a relapse was part of the process. After sustaining tens of thousands of pounds in losses, Marcus follows through on a plan to sell guns to a black-market buyer in order to parlay the money into a “sure thing” bet that will make him whole again. We haven’t heard any specifics about what the “sure thing” is, but we can assume that it’s anything but certain based on the dire track record of sure things. But the first phase of Marcus’s plan is a humiliating ordeal that puts him in the weapons-filled hideaway of a former ballroom dancer turned gun dealer who sizes him up as swiftly as he rips him off. Speaking almost exclusively in dance metaphors, the dealer boasts that he can “sense danger and dance around it,” but he’s unintimidated by Marcus, who tries to argue him up from a 3,000-pound offer and can’t get a quid more. (“Great negotiating,” the dealer quips.)
The timing of Marcus’s deal puts him in a great spot to assist Shirley and the team in helping Sam Chapman, an old MI5 agent with connections to David Cartwright and the bad guys in Lavande, to shake a tail. It is not entirely Marcus’s fault that they blow the assignment, given that Shirley stares slack-jawed at Sam’s pursuer for long enough to be conspicuous. But Marcus yelling after Shirley when he spots her in the marketplace definitively blows their cover, resulting in Marcus getting hockey-checked through a storefront window. They scarcely have much more luck when they finally corner the bad guy in a three-on-one melee, which only ends in their favor when Lamb commandeers a taxi and simply runs the man over. (And yet still, no apprehension is made.)
Meanwhile, River has Inspector Clouseau-ed his way into figuring out what’s going on, which retroactively justifies his decision to march straight into the lion’s den of Lavande, France. River was saved, in a sense, by getting conked in the back of his head, which took him away from the clutches of Hugo Weaving’s Frank Harkness and into the clutches of Natasha (Coralie Audret), who’s anxious to know what brought him into town. The bad news for River? It turns out he shot Natasha’s son in the face. The better news? Natasha lays the blame on the young man’s father, Harkness, who had brought her son into his stable of mercenaries at Les Arbres. Among the others in Harkness’ kill squad is “Robert Winters,” chief Westacres suspect and former MI5 cover identity.
Harkness’ mercenary squad, populated by the brainwashed sons of different mothers, recalls the Christopher Eccleston subplot late in the zombie film 28 Days Later. In that film, Eccleston played the militaristic leader of a compound in Manchester that has created a safe haven from the zombie hordes that are dominating England, but the security and resources of the site come with a major hitch. To recreate civilization and reinforce his own power, he intends to hold female survivors into sexual slavery. There’s no guessing yet what Harkness’ intentions might be, but young men like Natasha’s son have been nurtured under his watch for a long time, and his MI5 connections make him a serious threat.
They also make him an embarrassment, which brings us back to the power struggle at the top of the Park, where Claude, the slowest horse in a premium stable, has opted to wage a covert battle with Taverner over the Winters identity issue. Still smarting from Taverner manipulating him into burying an inquiry into the connection between MI5 and Winters, Claude commissions Giti, the same woman who flagged the Winters ID for Taverner, to pick through the archives for more “cold bodies” that might be exploited in the field. It’s going to end very badly for Claude, no doubt, but the potential for a humiliating First Desk/Second Desk confrontation is now delectably high.
Then there’s David Cartwright, who’s in the wind once again after getting tucked away at Standish’s apartment. Lamb goes to amusing lengths to keep Flyte from getting to him, drawing an arrest for obstructing the investigation, but we once again have cause to ask how much of David’s dementia is real and how much he knows exactly what buttons to push. His disorientation under Standish’s care seems legitimate early in the episode when he once again insists he killed his grandson and seems to believe that Charles Partner, Standish’s old boss, is still in charge of First Desk. (She cleverly tricks him into not calling First Desk because Charles would be “reading cables from Berlin” at that time of day.) And yet, David is deeply connected to what’s happening in Lavande, and he’s been perfectly lucid about what matters most. As we head into the back half of the season, the relationship between his past actions and present fogginess will surely come into focus.
Shots
• A humbling episode for Roddy, who smugly tells Lamb that “shit rises to the top at this office, with gold at the bottom,” before Lamb reveals to him that someone with shoes above his pay grade has walked right past him upstairs without him noticing. Later, Flyte responds to his clumsy attempt at flirtation (“Where’d you put your wings?”) by handcuffing him to his weight machine.
• A nice, spiky chemistry is developing between Lamb and Flyte, who’s neither as dim nor as witless as her predecessor. “I’d rather not take any chances with a man who looks like he gropes people on buses,” she tells him before opting to cuff him for obstruction.
• “Going to the Park is like being in an IKEA. You can’t get out of the fucking place.”
• Molly from the archives has no respect for the First Desk/Second Desk hierarchy. Taverner is in charge for her.
• JK still hasn’t spoken much, but he’s an absolute maniac, holding a knife against Shirley’s throat over Roddy’s cuffing. He claims to find it “triggering” to see Roddy in that position because he was handcuffed against his will for 72 hours.
• The attack dog nearly catching River on his crappy commandeered moped recalls Josh Brolin fleeing from the swimming canine in No Country For Old Men.
