Mint

From acclaimed indie director Charlotte Regan, Mint is a proudly idiosyncratic take on the crime family genre. Set in Grangemouth, Scotland, the new BBC series (mostly) eschews drugs and guns in favour of a tender Romeo-and-Juliet-style romance.

The daughter of notorious gangster boss Dylan (Sam Riley), Shannon (Emma Laird) has no interest in her father’s line of work, instead daydreaming about finding love. Living a quintessentially petite bourgeois lifestyle, the family lives in a sprawling new-build thanks to Dylan’s lucrative line of business. Shannon watches her mother, Cat (Laura Fraser), confined to a life of domesticity, forever indebted to her husband and the riches his criminal activity has brought the family. But following a dingy train station meet-cute with the enigmatic Arran (Loyle Carner), Shannon may have finally found a way out.

Visually arresting from the outset, the series is shot in a magical realist style. Despite its mob themes, this is, at its heart, a whimsical coming-of-age tale. Shannon is a fairytale princess in the working-class mould, floating into the ether as she ponders finding her Prince Charming. Laird, who first found acclaim in 28 Years Later as a female incarnation of Jimmy Savile, has an ethereal presence that complements Regan’s fantastical directorial style.

In his adult acting debut, Carner is a natural. The musician gives an understated performance that subtly captures the vulnerability of those for whom a path of criminal activity seems inevitable. Meanwhile, Riley and Fraser work well alongside each other, though their relationship with Shannon does feel somewhat unbelievable at times (Riley does, however, deserve props for his thick Glaswegian accent). There’s also comic relief in the form of Lindsay Duncan, who plays a mob matriarch with an appetite for her son’s burly henchmen.

Regan’s vision is undoubtedly enthralling, showing the ephemeral beauty of a world just beyond Shannon’s grasp. However, in spite of its unique visual style, the show leans a little too often into tried and tested gangster tropes. This reliance on the cliches of the genre belies its intention to be a vanguard take on the mob drama. Undoubtedly, the scenes that more defiantly embrace this feminist tone are where the series shines.

With a suitably wistful lead performance, Mint brings a cinematic quality to the small screen. An urban fairytale about forbidden love, it explores what it means to truly break away from toxic familial bonds.