Dope Thief (Apple TV+) - Review 

Rating: 4 out of 5

DOPE Thief arrived on Apple TV with some impeccable credentials. A pilot episode directed by Ridley Scott, two leading men in Brian Tyree Henry and Wagner Maura (who deserve more prominence) and a strong story written by Peter Craig (of Top Gun: Maverick/The Batman fame).

It was all the more pleasing to be able to report that, for the most part, the subsequent show delivered.

The premise was great. Ray Driscoll (Henry) and Manny Carvalho (Moura), two former addicts and friends since meeting in prison as young men, have a hustle: they pose as DEA agents and rip off minor league drug dealers, keeping the haul for themselves.

But while their small-time endeavours have been successful thus far, temptation gets in the way when Ray discovers that Theresa (Kate Mulgrew), the woman who raised him, is in need of money for medical bills, and Manny wants to provide for his girlfriend, who has just moved in.

Hence, the duo act on a tip that, while taking them out of the neighbourhood and their comfort zone, should net them a bigger score.

The ensuing raid goes south and leaves five dead and one severely wounded undercover DEA agent, Mina (Marin Ireland), as well as causing the destruction of a key piece of the eastern seaboard’s main drug-running corridor. Needless to say, its owner wants the money and meth back - and Ray and Manny dead.

The DEA feels similarly strongly, as does Mina and several other vested interests, from cartel members to biker gangs.

Scott’s opening episode sets all of this in motion brilliantly. You can practically feel the desperation coming off the streets of Philadelphia and the poor neighbourhoods Ray and Manny are trying to escape.

And it’s this desperation that informs the ensuing nine episodes: whether in their ever worsening predicament, their faltering mental health (which brings the spectre of addiction back) and in their desire to discover who set them up.

There’s a moment in the penultimate episode where Ray falls apart in a lift, desperate to know where the bottom is. It exemplifies the futility of their plight. The despair within Ray is palpable and ferociously portrayed by Henry - whose performance throughout feels desperately authentic (he has spoken in interview of how he drew on real experiences to express his characters emotional decline).

Several critics have noted Dope Thief’s similarities to other drug-based classics such as Breaking Bad, The Wire and even early Miami Vice. But while there are certainly similarities; this one feels more lived in, more raw, more messy.

There are crazy gunfights, devastating betrayals and so many fractured relationships that most of the dialogue is delivered via argument or bickering. It’s chaotic at times. But it’s very much life on the edge.

And it’s driven by some towering performances. Henry is larger than life at times, but very much a wounded soul, carrying guilt and hurt from a difficult childhood. But he’s equalled by the somewhat more fragile Moura, whose own demons hang heavy on his ability to be the strong partner Ray needs. There’s an inevitable tragedy building.

There’s strong support too from Martin’s embittered DEA agent, ruthless in her pursuit of the truth, and as much a victim of her environment as the men she is hunting. Her injuries mean she is vocally compromised but she remains determined, even though a moment of suicidal ideation is brilliantly realised in one of the show’s quieter moments.

Ving Rhames makes a notable addition to the cast as Ray’s dad, bringing added emotional complexity to Ray’s confused life, while several other players bring distrust, possible redemption and menace.

Dope Thief is a series that exists on the edge. It’s nervy, volatile, distinct and unpredictable. And it can be draining. But it’s also a show that more than lives up to the potential displayed by the creative team behind it. You’ll want to see it if you’re a fan of any of the programmes it references.