Inside Men: “Inside Men”
Inside Men debuts tonight on BBC America at 10 p.m. Eastern.
It’s too early yet to assess the influence of Breaking Bad on the pop cultural landscape, but Inside Men, BBC America’s fantastically gripping new heist series, suggests that Walter White’s unforgettable metamorphosis into a ruthless meth kingpin has spawned an irresistible and timely new television sub-genre: the story of the mild-mannered everyman who goes rogue. That’s not to say that Inside Men isn’t very much its own creation—it is—merely that it traces a similar narrative arc, one that somehow seems particularly appealing in these gloomy economic times.
Like seemingly every heist ever undertaken on the large or small screen, Inside Men opens in a parking garage. John Coniston (Steven Mackintosh)—timid, ginger-haired, and entirely unremarkable—is approaching his sensible family station wagon when, suddenly, he’s attacked by a gang of men wearing identical creepy rubber masks. At gunpoint, John is forced to take the masked men to the place he works—which appears to be nothing but a giant warehouse filled with cash. In the ensuing melee, a handsome young security guard named Chris (Ashley Walters) is shot. As the younger man lies in a pool of his blood, barely clinging to life, John spots a rifle that’s been dropped by one of the robbers. He eyes the weapon, then, after a moment of contemplation, grabs it. John is about to fight back—or so we’re meant to believe. The image freezes and a title flashes on the screen: September.
Over the ensuing four episodes of Inside Men (all of which were written by Tony Basgallop and directed by James Kent), we learn the situation is far more complicated than that. The protracted opening sequence, which runs nearly 10 minutes in length, is violent, tense, and infused with a potent sense of chaos. There’s little to no explanation of what’s unfolding before us, and the confusion only adds to the anxiety of it all: Who are these people? And just where the hell are we?