When I first heard about The Immortal Man, the latest installment in the Peaky Blinders saga, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. As a long-time fan, I’ve grown deeply attached to the characters, and the absence of certain key figures in this spin-off film was immediately noticeable. Lizzie, Finn, Alfie Solomons, Arthur Shelby—their absence is like a missing piece of a puzzle. But what struck me most was the deliberate omission of Helen McCrory’s Polly Gray, a character whose absence in the final season of the show was already a heart-wrenching blow. McCrory’s passing in 2021 left an irreplaceable void, and yet, The Immortal Man manages to honor her legacy in a way that feels both poignant and fitting.
One thing that immediately stands out is how Steven Knight, the mastermind behind Peaky Blinders, chose to handle Polly’s presence in the film. Instead of a forced cameo or a clumsy resurrection, Knight weaves her into the narrative through a premonition—a warning Tommy Shelby received years ago. This isn’t just a clever plot device; it’s a deeply emotional tribute to both the character and the actress. Polly’s influence lingers, guiding Tommy even in her absence, and it’s a testament to McCrory’s impact on the series. Personally, I think this approach is genius. It acknowledges the loss without trying to replace her, and it reinforces the idea that some characters truly transcend their time on screen.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how Polly’s premonition becomes a turning point in the film. When Tommy encounters Kaulo, a Romani medium played by Rebecca Ferguson, he’s already on guard because of Polly’s warning about a blackbird leading to his death. This isn’t just a plot twist—it’s a symbolic passing of the torch. Polly, the spiritualist and protector, continues to shield Tommy from beyond the grave, while Kaulo, a character with similar gifts, becomes an antagonist. If you take a step back and think about it, this dynamic is rich with meaning. It’s as if Knight is saying that while one spiritual guide may leave, another emerges, but the legacy of the first remains unshakable.
From my perspective, the inclusion of Kaulo is both a nod to Polly’s role and a way to explore new themes. Kaulo’s motives are murky, her methods suspicious, yet she’s not entirely villainous. There’s a complexity to her character that reminds me of Polly’s own multifaceted nature. What many people don’t realize is that Peaky Blinders has always been about the gray areas—morality, loyalty, and survival. Kaulo fits perfectly into this world, and her interactions with Tommy highlight the void Polly left while also pushing the story forward. I wouldn’t be surprised if we see more of her in future installments, and frankly, I’m here for it.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how The Immortal Man uses Romani culture as a backdrop for its spiritual elements. The idea that death isn’t always the end is a recurring theme, and it’s beautifully intertwined with Tommy’s journey. This raises a deeper question: How do we honor the past while moving forward? Knight seems to suggest that the answer lies in remembering the lessons those who came before us left behind. Polly’s premonition isn’t just a plot point—it’s a reminder that her wisdom, her strength, and her love for the Shelby family are eternal.
What this really suggests is that The Immortal Man isn’t just a continuation of Peaky Blinders—it’s a reflection on the series itself. It’s about legacy, loss, and the enduring impact of those we’ve lost. As I watched the film, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of closure, not just for Tommy’s arc but for Polly’s as well. Knight and director Tom Harper have crafted a tribute that feels authentic, heartfelt, and utterly deserving of Helen McCrory’s memory.
In the end, The Immortal Man is more than just a spin-off; it’s a love letter to a character and an actress who defined the heart and soul of Peaky Blinders. And as the credits rolled, I found myself thinking: This is how you honor someone’s legacy—not by trying to replace them, but by ensuring their spirit lives on in the stories we continue to tell.
