When Peaky Blinders first premiered in 2013, it managed to gradually distinguish itself from other, similar crime dramas through sheer style and attitude. Steven Knight’s sweeping gangster saga combined historical drama with anachronistic rock music, razor-sharp dialogue, and a central antihero who felt badass, mythic, and painfully human. Over six seasons, audiences watched Tommy Shelby (Academy Award winner Cillian Murphy) rise from a traumatized veteran of the first World War running small-time rackets in Birmingham to the leader of a sprawling, complex criminal empire. Now, with Peaky Blinders: The Immortal Man, that story receives its cinematic conclusion. It’s an ambitious attempt to compress the emotional weight and narrative scope of the long-running series into a feature-length finale - and it’s sure to satisfy fans old and new.
Set during the height of World War II, the film wastes no time reminding viewers that this is a darker, more desperate chapter in the Shelby story. Opening amid the horrors of a Nazi concentration camp, counterfeit currency is being produced by prisoners to destabilize England’s economy, and the stakes immediately feel global rather than local. It’s a chilling reminder that the world Tommy Shelby once dominated has grown larger and far more dangerous.
When we finally reunite with Tommy, time has clearly taken its toll. Living in isolation and haunted by the ghosts of his past, he spends his days writing what appears to be a memoir, reflecting on the Great War and its aftermath, his family, and the countless lives lost along his misguided way. The line “I’m not alone when I’m alone” perfectly encapsulates the character’s state of mind. Tommy Shelby has always carried his trauma like armor, but here it feels heavier than ever.
The story’s central conflict emerges when Tommy’s sister Ada (Sophie Rundle), one of the other last surviving Shelbys, brings troubling news: Duke (Barry Keoghan), Tommy’s estranged son, has taken control of the Peaky Blinders in his absence - and he’s far more ruthless than the father he barely knew. The film smartly frames Duke not just as a successor but as a reflection of Tommy’s own legacy. Where Tommy once justified his brutality as a means of survival or ambition, Duke seems to embrace violence with a much colder detachment. Their strained relationship forms the emotional backbone of the film, forcing Tommy to confront the kind of world (and family) he has helped create.
Complicating matters is the arrival of Beckett, played with icy menace by Tim Roth. A traitor to England who openly aligns himself with Nazi ideology, Beckett represents a different breed of villain than the gangsters and political rivals Tommy has faced before. Roth gives the character a quietly unsettling presence, embodying someone whose cruelty is driven not merely by greed but by matter-of-fact ideology. Beckett’s eventual manipulative influence over Duke becomes one of the film’s most disturbing dynamics, as he effectively becomes a twisted surrogate father figure guiding the young Shelby further into darkness.
Director Tom Harper (The Aeronauts, Heart of Stone) embraces the cinematic scope of the story whenever possible. The film’s wartime backdrop allows for striking imagery: bombed-out streets, shadowy tunnels, and a climactic sequence set amid a besieged Liverpool. Alongside the work of cinematographer George Steel, visually, the movie frequently captures the grim beauty that has always defined the series. One standout moment sees Tommy walking through a morgue lined with bodies, a haunting reminder of the countless lives lost throughout his various escapades.
The film also leans heavily into the mythology that has always surrounded the Shelby patriarch. His connection to his Romani heritage and the supernatural undertones of the series play a significant role here, blurring the line between reality and hallucination. Whether encountering visions of lost loved ones or revisiting the claustrophobic tunnels that once defined his wartime trauma, Tommy feels like a man trapped in conversation with his own nightmares. In that regard, Rebecca Ferguson joins the cast as Kaulo, a mysterious woman connected to Tommy’s past that pushes him to both reconnect to his roots and take his place in the current day.
Not everything works perfectly in the transition from television to film. At times, the pacing feels uneven, with certain story beats arriving abruptly or without the breathing room the series could afford its characters. Some editing choices also feel oddly rushed, occasionally undercutting moments that might have landed with greater emotional weight in a longer format. Compressing such a sprawling saga into roughly two hours was always going to be a challenge, and the film can sometimes struggle under that weight.
Still, The Immortal Man succeeds where it matters most: delivering a conclusion that feels thematically true to the story that began over a decade ago. The film ultimately frames Tommy Shelby not as a triumphant kingpin but as a man forced to reckon with the consequences of the empire he built and everything left in its wake. Like many great crime epics before it, this is not a story that ends with redemption or victory. Instead, it’s about legacy; what survives after the smoke clears, and whether power was ever worth the cost.
Imperfect but undeniably compelling, Peaky Blinders: The Immortal Man offers a fittingly tragic final chapter for one of television’s most iconic antiheroes. For fans who have followed Tommy Shelby’s journey from the smoky backrooms of Birmingham to the frontlines of wartime Europe, it’s a farewell that feels both bittersweet and inevitable.
'Peaky Blinders: The Immortal Man' is now playing in select theaters and begins streaming on Netflix March 20th 2026.
