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7 November 2024

The Day of the Jackal is more lifestyle show than thriller

In this slick adaptation of Freddie Forsyth’s novel, Eddie Redmayne’s cheekbones shine.

By Rachel Cooke

I’d better not go on too much about the beloved 1973 film of Freddie Forsyth’s novel The Day of the Jackal. But I will say Eddie Redmayne is no Edward Fox. In his designer togs – a little bit Burberry, a little bit Jil Sander – he’s quite the international traveller, even if his wheelie suitcase hides a custom-made shooter (the people at Rimowa haven’t seen anything like this). But I don’t buy him as an assassin (codename: the Jackal).

Even as he stares unblinkingly at his target – preposterously, he can kill from a distance of 3,815m – he brings to mind not the hitman of paperback legend but a guy with far too many pairs of sunglasses whose cashmere habit is seriously out of control. My dear, the dry cleaning. How one worries (splat!) about those pristine white corduroys.

Sky Atlantic’s new ten-part series (screenplay by Ronan Bennett) updates the yarn for 21st-century sensibilities with varying degrees of success. It’s at its most successful (ie, exciting) when it’s determinedly old-fashioned: here are cunning disguises, extended car chases and ingenious bits of kit. But when it tries to be modern (ie, touchy-feely), the tension evaporates. While I approve wholeheartedly of ruthless Bianca from MI6 (Loshana Lynch), who hopes to catch our elusive assassin and doesn’t give a toss who dies in the process, giving her prey a home life is a big mistake.

Sociopathic professional killers cannot, and should not, be humanised. I don’t care to see the Jackal dandle his baby son, or get it on with his pouting Spanish wife (Ursula Corbero). I want him to streak smoothly and heedlessly through the world with only a forged passport, some ammo and a couple of wigs for company. Let him be dead inside, not FaceTiming his mother-in-law in Cadiz.

As for his targets: hit one is a far-right German politician, the invoice for which he sent from a Paris internet cafe immediately after the business was concluded (as a freelancer myself, I applaud the efficiency). His next hit is a tech wiz, Ulle Dag Charles (Khalid Abdalla), who plans to give the world “total economic justice”, which sounds miles better than anything in Rachel Reeves’ Budget – and doubtless is, given that his paymaster in this case is Timothy Winthrop (Charles Dance), a posh bloke whose architectural spectacles all but shout a word beginning with W. For UDC’s untimely end, incidentally, the Jackal will receive “superlative remuneration”, which could mean that Brunello Cucinelli is in for a bumper order some time quite soon.

Bennett’s dialogue is old school: comically so, at times. When Bianca heads to eastern Europe, her MI6 contact says: “The Latvians are friendly, but Belarus is very hostile.” (Eat your heart out, Steve Rosenberg.) I find myself surprisingly keen on all the talk of assets. But still, the feeling grows that this is more lifestyle show than thriller. Collectible chess sets, butter-coloured Porsches, a pea coat cut just right… Other chaps have sheds, but the Jackal has a secret room in which he keeps his stick-on eyebrows and coloured contact lenses in perfect order. His cheekbones shine as if slicked with Elizabeth Arden’s Eight Hour Cream.

Is there jeopardy enough to keep us watching? Sky has made the first five episodes available for bingeing, but I had to take a break after three. The film was meticulously constructed to bypass sluggishness: it lasts two and half hours, and they pass, as the critic Roger Ebert said, in what feels like 15 minutes. This version is more than ten hours long; even at its most pacy, you’re always aware it has been stretched to fit the inexhaustible demands of streaming.

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But I will go back to it. Redmayne is strangely fascinating to watch: compelling in disguise, especially when bald (the liver spots are as big as Lake Geneva), but like some hollowed-out private equity dude most of the rest of the time. As an actor, he exhibits some serious prop-love in this show – though you can’t blame him for it. I mean, the equipment! Honestly, you should see the size of his telescopic lens.

The Day of the Jackal
Sky Atlantic

[See also: Generation Z is a tedious abomination]

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This article appears in the 07 Nov 2024 issue of the New Statesman, Trump takes America