Lucky (Apple) - Review

Rating: 4.5 out of 5

THERE’S an art to telling a good con story in a movie or TV show and Lucky delivered the goods in exemplary fashion.

And while the Apple series set up to appear as if it was going to solely concentrate on the con and subsequent getaway, underpinning and driving it was the fiercely engrossing tale of a young woman attempting to get out from under the toxic relationships that had come to mark her life.

As such, it successfully combined some thrilling genre-infused action, befitting of a big screen, with some talky character building scenes that played to the strengths of its superb cast.

Loosely based on Marissa Stapley’s 2021 novel, the show had the good fortune to boast the consistently excellent Anya Taylor-Joy in the lead role as well as Timothy Olyphant among its primary supporting players.

It also had two very good creators and show runners in Jonathan Tropper (Your, Friends & Neighbours, Warrior) and Cassie Pappas (Silo, Griselda), not to mention a heavily stacked supporting cast that also included Annette Bening, William Fichtner, Clifton Collins Jr and Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor, as well as Shogun co-director Jonathan van Tulleken and Emmy and Golden Globe-winning director Greg Yaitanes (of Presumed Innocent/House of the Dragon fame).

Taylor-Joy played the Lucky of the show’s title, a career ‘criminal’ schooled in the art of the con by her father John (Olyphant). When first we meet her, Lucky is coming to in a hotel room having been drugged and betrayed by her husband, Cary (Drew Starkey), who has run off with the money they have stolen from crime lord Wayne Whittaker (Fichtner) and her mother-in-law Priscilla (Bening).

With Priscilla and her chief henchman Dutch (Collins Jr.) on her tail, as well as a dogged FBI agent Billie Rand (Ellis-Taylor) in hot pursuit, Lucky must think on her feet and use all of the skills her father taught her to keep one step ahead of the chasing pack and turn things around in her favour, albeit while keeping in touch with her prison-based dad (Olyphant) and potentially engineer his release from incarceration.

Lucky proves highly adept at doing all of those things, despite getting regularly battered and bruised in the process. But while the show certainly manages to drop in some exhilarating set pieces (and we’ll come to those), it’s the emotional journey of its primary character that makes it really compelling.

And that is ultimately about having Lucky let go. Of realising the toll her primary relationships have taken. And how they are restricting her ability to live her best life.

Or, as Tropper told The Hollywood Reporter following the season finale: “From the minute we started plotting the season, we always believed that for Lucky to truly be free and take her first steps into a new life, she has to do that alone. She can’t take the money with her, she can’t take her father with her, she can’t take Cary with her; she has to be stripped of everything in order to figure out who she is.”

It’s this realisation, as the ending draws closer, that makes the stakes much more emotional. For, in many ways, Lucky’s whole life has been its own con: the false belief that her father loves her more than the life he is leading, or that her husband wouldn’t act in his own best interests when confronted with his own difficult decisions.

It becomes increasingly clear, from flashbacks, how Olyphant’s father has consistently used his daughter to help achieve his own ends, including embroiling her in Priscilla’s crime family, as well as (most shockingly) being prepared to risk her drowning in order to secure a free stay at a hotel.

That’s not to say John doesn’t love her. Indeed, he regularly beams with pride at how ingeniously Lucky can turn the tables on her adversaries or see out a con without flinching. But his sense of disappointment upon finding out she has previously worked with the Feds to try and get them out from under their lives is palpable.

The excellent final episode allows room for Olyphant and Taylor-Joy to spend some quality time together and really explore this twisted dynamic. It enables Lucky to test her father with her own con to see just where his priorities really lie. And John predictably fails that test.

The interplay between both actors is terrific, with Olyphant, especially, imbuing his John with some telling looks and facial expressions, even when he realises the tables have been turned against him. But Taylor-Joy comes into her own here too, rolling out her biggest gambles in a bid to get to the place she needs to reach in order to make the decisions that are best for her. Her performance is, by turns, plucky but bruised; smart and calculated yet more than a little broken.

The final shot of her on a beach, allowing the sea to wash over her feet (as per one of her childhood dreams) is genuinely rewarding. It captures the relief and delight that accompanies her freedom.

Juxtaposing this, to a lesser extent, is Priscill’s fractured relationship with her son, Cary, and the sense of loss and regret she feels (as well as betrayal) once he is killed while attempting to flee the Feds with Lucky.

This brings us to one of the series highlights: episode four, which pretty encapsulates all of its strengths. Early on, there’s a lengthy, almost stage-like conversation between Lucky and Cary that is shot through with emotional truth - as Lucky, having finally caught back up with her husband, confronts him over his betrayal. The exchange is heated and intense and both Taylor-Joy and Starkey excel in channelling the depths of their complex feelings towards each other and the lives they have been forced to lead by their respective parents. There’s resentment, confusion and love.

This, in turn, sets the stage for the action that follows as both the Feds and Priscilla and Dutch converge on them at the same time, prompting a high speed car chase and shootout that comes to a shocking conclusion: with the death of Cary.

The chase itself is thrillingly choreographed and suitably muscular, invoking a genuine sense of peril, but the climax is also shocking… letting you know from the outset that the show won’t be pulling any punches or sparing any key characters.

But it also marks the start of Lucky’s true awakening: the realisation of where her escape from her past really lies and what she must give up. For Priscilla, meanwhile, it also sets in motion her journey towards some form of salvation (as a mother) and retribution towards her boss and one-time lover, Whittaker, who turns out to be Cary’s absentee father.

Again, the show underlines its intention to underline how past actions have major consequences. Cary’s death unlocks so much anguish, the vast majority of which is resolved in the finale. But it’s a measure of how effectively the episode lands that it proves such a memorable chapter.

Bening is particularly memorable here, omitting a haunting howl of despair as she witnesses (from afar) the lifeless body of her son being pulled from the wrecked car, but Taylor-Joy again excels as she comes to realise that the love of her life life hasn’t survived their car crash… and that she has, in her father’s eyes, failed. The true cost of her life becomes painfully clear.

As Cassie Pappas informs The Hollywood Reporter: “Before we even cast Drew, we knew Cary was going to die from the car crash, and the main reason is that it shows Lucky that her cons have consequences. We needed some real life or death stakes to punch her in the gut and make her go, “What you’re doing has real cause and effect.”

Lucky therefore almost operates on a subversive level to most con films. For while many of those exist to see how the con artist gets away with he con, Lucky shows that the happy ever after isn’t quite as it seems. There are consequences to a life of crime. No one ever really gets away clean - not if you want to keep your ill gotten gains.

Lucky’s decision to let go, to choose a different path, and to turn her back on those closest to her (at least those who have survived) lends the show its distinct identity. It also gives it that greater heart.

It’s a really engaging series that satisfies on many levels, hitting every target it aims for.