Dope Thief

Streaming On: Apple TV+

Episodes viewed: 8 of 8

Dope Thief opens with a bang. Two DEA agents storm a stash-house in inner-city Philadelphia, subdue the suspects, control the room and carry out a thorough search of the premises, turning up both narcotics and cash. The operation is efficient, detailed and by the numbers. “Just because we’re not real law enforcement,” insists Ray (Brian Tyree Henry), “doesn’t mean we’re not professional.”

Manny (Narcos’ Wagner Moura) and Ray bring home the bacon by posing as federal agents and ripping off small-time dealers. The pair see it as a low-risk, moderate-reward hustle that doubles as public service — a benevolent cull, if you will, only of crankheads’ pocket money instead of badgers. The scam goes tits up when they strike it (un)lucky with a massive haul of cash at what turns out to be a cartel-backed meth lab catering to speed-freaks up and down the entire East Coast.

The core of the series is [Henry and Moura's] warm, heartfelt friendship...

It’s a reliable yet simple set-up for a crime yarn — basically-decent petty thieves get in way over their heads — playing out over nearly eight tense, tightly structured hours. But the triumph of this limited series, adapted by showrunner Peter Craig (The Town, The Batman) from Dennis Tafoya’s 2009 novel, is less in the construction of the encapsulating thriller than in the gratifying detail of its character work.

From the very first episode (energetically directed by one Ridley Scott, neatly setting the tone), Ray and Manny prove enormously engaging company. Henry and Moura’s rolling banter forms the basis for an easy-going chemistry, their characters lapsing into the same goofy familiarity we can easily imagine they’ve enjoyed since their years together as young offenders. As much as Dope Thief concerns itself with the aftermath of the ill-fated heist, the core of the series is this warm, heartfelt friendship and the cracks that begin to (understandably) show under the likelihood of impending torture and death.

The shockwaves ripple outwards too, pulling in everyone from Manny’s long-suffering girlfriend Sherry (Liz Caribel Sierra) to pro bono lawyer and unexpected Meat Loaf fan Michelle (Nesta Cooper), to Ray’s incarcerated father (Ving Rhames) and his doting yet irascible mother-figure (Kate Mulgrew, on spectacular form). Whether it’s a hilariously chaotic scene in which Manny gets balled out in Spanish by Sherry and her mother, or a recently shot Ray munching happily on a neighbour’s fruitcake, the interactions are shot through with a darkly infectious sense of humour, Craig keeping a firm hand on tone so that even when things look bleak, the show never feels oppressive.

The unravelling crime conspiracy does become a touch convoluted as it goes on, but with a series of superbly directed set-pieces that lean as hard on character beats as they do action (a disorientating raid on an Amish meth house being a standout), and a clutch of knockout central performances, Dope Thief is a wild ride that you just won’t want to quit.