Rhiannon is on the verge of losing her mind and, when her loving dad with whom she lived with passes away, telling her to stand up for herself as his final words to her, it’s all over. And that’s not even the end of her less-than-okey-dokey time, as all Rhiannon’s traumatic experience floods rushing back when Julia, now a real estate agent, turns up at her dad’s funeral with the intent of selling Rhiannon’s house, the last thing left by her late dad. Soon her repressed rage and violent desires become a reality.
Even though she knows murder isn’t exactly what her dad had in mind by “standing up for herself,” it becomes a wild and exhilarating ride to see the lengths this introverted killer goes to in covering her tracks and continuing her self-righteous violent path once she draws first blood. Upon securing her first victim, Rhiannon begins to take a more confident stance in everyday life, subsequently advocating for herself at work and elsewhere. There’s a great moment where after a long time of dealing with a man-spreader on the public bus, she puts her hand on his thigh, turns and asks him in a chilling voice, “Am I making you uncomfortable?” It’s moments like that where the connection with her sense of satisfaction feels cathartic until an over-the-top blood-soaking murder looms around the corner, and reminds you of her true nature.
Sweetpea confidently builds momentum in Rhiannon’s descent into madness and the reevaluation of her surroundings amid her thirst for vengeance within the remainder of the first season. In the first episode, the empathic approach gives way to a neutral one, bolstered by Ella Jones’ eerie yet cheeky direction, and the comedy takes on as dark and funny a vibe as its terrifying protagonist’s. The writers take bold story choices in challenging Rhiannon’s antihero morals and violent decisions that, even if at times they feel like a cop-out, they’re so well-rounded by the show’s tight and nuanced characterization with its supporting players.
Characters like detective Marina (Leah Harvey), who tries to find evidence of the murders being linked to Rhiannon while also being undervalued by her superiors, and her enemy Julia, who is more than what she may seem to Rhiannon, end up rattling the lead character and the audience in a subtle fashion. In fact, some of the finest scenes are often between Rhiannon and these adversaries, as power exchanges are fueled in the background.
Ella Purnell’s incredible performance in Sweetpea is as chilling as her voice performance in Arcane. Her antiheroic gradual turn to full-blown psychopathic is irresistible to watch. Even when the surroundings are wilder than her actions, her transition from mousey to threatening is firmly established by her unsettling body language and facial tics. Purnell’s large pupils are something like a cheat code for you can never tell what’s going in Rhiannon’s head by either a swift smile or an empty stared scowl. She transforms a character study that could easily be one-dimensional into a human portrayal.
Sharply written, deliciously entertaining, and darkly funny, Sweetpea is a stirring, sinister series bolstered by a killer performance. With a well-rounded yet overall short six-episode count, I am bloody eager for more.