Saturday, September 5, 2026

[This article contains major spoilers for season two of The Gentlemen.]

Initially, Eddie Horniman (Theo James) arrives as an unwilling heir who unexpectedly gains his father’s dukedom, only to learn the old man built a sprawling cannabis empire. Once a dutiful ex‑Army officer focused on shielding his family and the Halstead estate, Eddie evolves by season’s end into a cold, calculating crime boss reminiscent of Michael Corleone.

In the show’s second season—released Thursday on Netflix—Eddie and his partner Susie Glass (Kaya Scodelario), acting on orders from Susie’s incarcerated crime‑lord father Bobby (Ray Winstone), push their marijuana business from the UK into Italy. This puts them on a collision course with the refined yet ruthless Mafia don Marco Moretti (Sergio Castellitto) and the opportunistic fixer Cico Maldini (Michele Morrone), whose double‑cross ends with him being mauled by Marco’s tiger. Yikes!

Seeking greater autonomy, Eddie pulls away from Susie and Bobby to ally directly with Marco, even ordering the killing of an innocent accountant to prove his loyalty. Around the same time, he falls for and marries Marco’s goddaughter, Countess Isabella “Bella” Soranza de Parme (Benedetta Porcaroli), a fellow aristocrat versed in the underworld through family ties yet uninterested in its day‑to‑day dealings.

Their happiness is short‑lived. After marrying at Lake Maggiore in episode six, the newlyweds embark on a honeymoon—Bella at the controls of a seaplane, Eddie following in a car below. A concealed bomb explodes mid‑flight, killing Bella instantly and thrusting Eddie into a relentless pursuit of revenge. Though he first points fingers at Bobby or other rivals, the season finale exposes the true traitor: a member of his own family.

While Eddie recuperates at a religious retreat, his volatile older brother Freddy (Daniel Ings) falls under the sway of Gospel John (Pearce Quigley)—the flamboyant crime lord who sought vengeance on Freddy in season one for killing his sibling. Exploiting Freddy’s bitterness over losing the Halstead inheritance to Eddie, Gospel John persuades him to launch an armed raid on the estate, which culminates in a botched kidnapping attempt targeting Eddie and Freddy’s sister Charly (Jasmine Blackborow) and her newborn in episode seven.

After discovering Freddy’s involvement, Eddie teams with Susie to apprehend Gospel John and dismantle his network. He then confronts Freddy personally—pummeling him and pressing a gun to his temple—yet refrains from killing his brother. Instead, Eddie shoves Freddy into the rear of a black van where Gospel John is bound and an accomplice wields a chainsaw. “Someone has to die, Freddy,” Eddie declares. To preserve his own life, Freddy is compelled to behead Gospel John. The season ends with a blood‑stained Freddy clutching the severed head, while Eddie lights a cigar and dryly labels his brother a “good boy.”

James found Eddie’s spiral into a ruthless crime lord especially compelling, given his longstanding fascination with how power corrupts the privileged. “It’s a pattern seen in kings and cult leaders,” James tells The Hollywood Reporter. “They begin intending to help, but ultimately power erodes their identity, poisoning them and dulling their sensitivity to violence and the world around them.”

Speaking from London earlier this week, star and co‑executive producer James discussed with THR his collaboration with Ritchie on a richer, darker second season—including how its shocking finale lays the groundwork for the already‑greenlit season three. He also explained why a romance between Eddie and Susie seems unlikely and addressed the circulating rumors about casting the real‑life Duchess of Sussex.

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What kinds of creative conversations did you have with Guy Ritchie to figure out how you all wanted to evolve the story in season two?

After season one—and even during filming—I felt we had a solid premise, strong performances, and a compelling story, yet certain layers remained unexplored. The first season wrapped up neatly, so returning for a second round was an opportunity to deepen the narrative, raise the stakes, and build on what worked while pushing the characters further.

Our process with Guy Ritchie, executive producer Matthew Read, and myself is intricate but productive, hinging on frequent dialogue. We begin with a lengthy London meeting—often four hours—touching on everything from overarching themes to minute details. While we don’t resolve every issue in that initial session, it lays the groundwork for the larger ideas we’ll develop.

Wanting to explore Eddie’s inner life—testing him, giving him emotional depth, letting him love, breaking him spiritually and physically, then betraying him—formed our core touchstones, which we continued to refine. This approach is unlike anything I’ve done before; we adjust scenes in the trailer each morning and on set, making the work constantly evolve.

You have spoken in the past about how Eddie was very much on the back foot in the first season. He was not exactly a fish out of water, but he was still trying to get his bearings in this criminal enterprise that his father was involved in. This season, he seems to really embrace and almost become seduced by the promises and trappings of wealth that he was born into — and he is left to wrestle with the cost of his actions. How do you think his moral compass bends over the course of the season? Do you think he believes the end justifies the means?

I believe Eddie ultimately sees the ends as justifying the means. I wanted to trace an ascent—akin to classic tales from biblical figures to Walter White—and examine the personal toll such a rise exacts. In the first season, Eddie largely operates with a moral compass; he’s a civilian thrust into an unfamiliar, perilous world, tasked with protecting his family from poverty and villainy. Yet he quickly discovers he possesses a surprising aptitude for the criminal life.

For season two, I aimed to portray a man steeped in generations of landed‑gentry privilege—privilege that breeds ego and a sense of entitlement. His journey becomes an ascent driven by the belief that power is his birthright, echoing both an ego‑driven narrative and a kingship saga, themes that also fascinate Guy Ritchie.

Morality comes into sharp focus in episode two, when Eddie crosses a line by committing a crime against an ostensibly innocent man to further his own goals. Though he rationalizes it as the ends justifying the means, the act erodes his ethical foundation. He remains, at heart, a good person, but now he is far from that ideal—a dissonance that will haunt him throughout the season.

I also enjoy probing how privilege and power can breed apathy and erode empathy—a dynamic seen among monarchs and cult leaders. They may begin intending to help, yet unchecked authority corrupts their sensibilities, leaving them indifferent to violence and the world around them. With another season ahead, I’m eager to dig deeper: how far has Eddie drifted from himself, and to what extent has his soul been corroded?

One of the people who remarks just how much Eddie has changed is Susie. Multiple characters start to question the nature of Eddie and Susie’s relationship — whether their connection is purely platonic and professional, or something more. How consciously have you, Kaya and the rest of the creative team tried to play up the will-they-won’t-they of that relationship?

Our initial reference point was Moonlighting—Cybill Shepherd and Bruce Willis—two characters drawn to each other yet perpetually unable to commit. That set the tone. In season two we kept their bond intact but introduced a rift rooted in mistrust; while they remain each other’s chief ally, their diverging ambitions put them on a collision course where one must ultimately outmaneuver the other, reflecting the series’ ascent narrative and its question of who will prevail.

Beyond that, the notion of a titled duke pairing with the daughter of a crime boss stretches credibility. (Laughs.) There’s a melancholy to it—though one can imagine them together, the realities of their worlds make such a union improbable.

Eddie’s relationship with Susie briefly takes a back seat to his unexpected romance with an Italian countess named Bella. Eddie and Bella quickly get married, which helps strengthen Eddie’s standing in his expanding international operations, but she is killed instantly when a bomb explodes on the seaplane that she was piloting on her way to her and Eddie’s honeymoon. How did you think about playing Eddie’s reaction to her death?

I appreciate that narrative thread; it echoes centuries‑old aristocratic marriages forged for alliance, land, or power, yet gives them a contemporary twist. Eddie’s union with Bella serves both to consolidate his expanding empire and to fulfill a genuine affection—though his aristocratic upbringing has taught him to view marriage often as a strategic move, making his feelings for her both sincere and somewhat unexpected.

For the episode‑six conclusion we filmed several variations. Eddie witnesses the tragedy and faces its fallout. Guy preferred a shroud of mystery, so the audience doesn’t learn his whereabouts or state until the close of episode seven, when he launches a vengeance‑driven quest sparked by anger.

The ending of the season feels particularly shocking.

We discussed this shocking conclusion with Guy and Matthew for quite a while. Killing Freddy outright would strip Eddie of his family, yet some form of retribution was necessary. The solution emerged from asking how to exact punishment without taking a life: we compelled Freddy to commit a heinous act while also forcing him to destroy the symbol of his spiritual guide. He reveres Gospel John as a man of faith, only to be made to sever his head with a chainsaw—laughs.

Earlier in the finale, Eddie’s own mother, Sabrina (Joely Richardson), remarks that he has become almost unrecognizable to her. What does that tell you about where he’s going — and where the story will go — in season three?

From a viewer’s standpoint, Eddie appears to be drifting into a realm of opulent darkness and ethical complexity. Yet, within his family circle, he has largely preserved himself—having avoided fratricide, he can still retain a semblance of who he once was.

He is trajectory‑bound to eclipse Bobby as the preeminent drug lord while simultaneously seeking total vengeance against his brother. The precise mechanics of that showdown remain under development.

Moreover, we plan to broaden the series’ geographic scope, introducing fresh locales and new nations. Though I won’t divulge specifics—since it forms a major plot thread—the upcoming setting will feel like an entirely different cinematic universe.

The Gentlemen was officially renewed for season three last week, but you and your creative team had reportedly known about the renewal for a while. Do you know when you will begin production for the next season? Are you going to be filming later this year or early next year?

Production is imminent. It’s coming up so fast that I find myself thinking, “Damn, we have to get everything ready before we roll cameras.” (Laughs.) Indeed, we’re moving quickly because we want to avoid the lengthy hiatus that separated seasons one and two—caused by shifting availabilities and conflicting film commitments. Everyone agrees that maintaining momentum is essential, so we’ll minimize the downtime between installments.

The show has obviously made headlines in the last couple of weeks because of the potential casting of a certain real-life duchess, Meghan Markle, in season three. As both a star and a producer, how privy are you to those kinds of casting conversations, and what do you know about her involvement at this point?

I suspect those rumors are largely unfounded. While it’s intriguing to see how quickly such speculation spread and how fascinated the public is with Meghan and Harry’s cultural weight, the reality is that casting a figure of their stature would bring an overwhelming media frenzy and logistical challenges for a production like ours. We discuss casting constantly, but the practical hurdles make this scenario highly improbable.

The first two seasons of The Gentlemen are now streaming on Netflix.

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