“Slow Horses” – A Review from the Top Floor

My daughter is a film scholar — but not the overblown, self-proclaimed kind.
You know the type:
– What do you do?
– I’m a TikTok model. You?
– A contract killer. In Assassin’s Creed IV.

No, she’s the real deal — a certified, diploma-holding expert in film studies.
And one day she told me I should start writing reviews.
Films, maybe. Or series — those count too.
So I said, fine. Why not.

The first thing that came to mind was Slow Horses.
I’ve read all the books — long before they became fashionable — and I’ve seen the show.
And Gary Oldman? I’ve seen him in everything.
Foreign films too. Even in Léon: The Professional.
So yeah, I know a thing or two.

The books are great, but the series with Oldman…
it outdid itself, walked all the way around, and stood next to itself, smirking.
It’s that good. Double good.
Apple, as we know, makes lousy films — but brilliant series.

And Sir Oldman (recently knighted — probably for his lifelong service in holey socks, working hard in the field… sorry, the court of the British Kingdom, bravely fighting international crime)
must’ve spent his entire life mastering the art of being an old, cynical, grimy, smelly, flatulent genius of espionage — that most delicate craft.

So what’s Slow Horses like?
Oh, I could go on and on — but let’s leave the frame-by-frame dissections to the pros.
I’ve got, and won’t hesitate to use, a ready-made classic from Mr. Poniedzielski — a Polish satirist famous for his dry wit and surgical precision with words:

“Dear Sirs,
In my accident report I listed the cause as: ‘Attempting to perform the work independently.’
In your letter you asked for further explanation.
I believe the following will suffice.

I’m a bricklayer by trade. On the day of the accident, I was working alone on the roof of a new three-story building.
When I finished, I noticed about 150 bricks scattered around.
I decided not to carry them down one by one, but to lower them in a barrel, using a rope and pulley fixed to the wall.

After securing the rope at the bottom, I went back up, loaded the barrel with bricks, and attached it to the rope.
Then I went back down, untied the rope — and, holding it tight, began to slowly lower the weight.

In the report I mentioned that I weigh 80 kilos.
You can imagine my surprise when I was suddenly yanked upward.

I lost my footing but didn’t let go of the rope.
Needless to say, I shot up the side of the building at considerable speed.
Halfway past the second floor, I met the descending barrel.

That explains the fractured skull and broken collarbone.

I slowed a little after that, but continued my rapid ascent until the fingers of my right hand jammed into the pulley.
Fortunately, I stayed conscious and managed to keep my grip despite the pain.

Meanwhile, the barrel hit the ground.
The impact broke its bottom, spilling out all the bricks.
Now empty, the barrel weighed only 25 kilos — and, as I mentioned, I weigh 80.
So I started falling.

Halfway past the second floor, I met the barrel again — this time rising.
That explains the broken ankles and lacerations to my legs.

The collision slowed me just enough that, when I landed on the pile of bricks, I suffered only three broken ribs.

Unfortunately, as I lay there in pain, unable to move and no longer thinking clearly, I let go of the rope.
The empty barrel, now heavier than the rope, fell straight down and broke both my legs.

I trust this provides the necessary details for closing my case.
Now you surely understand the circumstances of my accident.”

That’s Slow Horses for me — exactly like that story, only in 4K, Atmos, and Dolby Surround.
A glorious, slow-motion disaster, followed by the need to explain, in exquisite detail, how on earth it all happened.

And I hope you’ve enjoyed my very first review.