The World's Greatest F***ing Spy

The brilliance of Slow Horses and Gary Oldman's farting skills

Photo by Benjamin Davies on Unsplash

I’ve previously expressed my appreciation for the works of the late John le Carré, who in my opinion is the best spy novelist of the 20th century. His novels capture the moral ambiguity of espionage in a way that no author before or since has managed, portraying it as an ugly business that is more revolting than it is riveting. Much of that is the result of the extensive lengths to which le Carré illustrates just how much of espionage is psychological. Espionage could be morally ambiguous, but you might still be fascinated by it if it involved driving supercars, fancy gadgets, and frequent combat with the enemy. Long, subtext-filled conversations and 4D mind games? A much more difficult sell for anyone who may have fancied themselves a future career in intelligence. 

Yet it’s precisely because of this reason that I sometimes hesitate to recommend TV or movie adaptations of le Carré’s work. Visualizing the psychological drama at the heart of his novels just doesn’t make for riveting television unless you’re already a le Carré superfan or someone interested in the spy genre. The characterization of the main players in le Carré’s novels also doesn't help make the transition to TV or movies easier. If George Smiley comes off as incredibly dry and boring, that’s because he has to be: those characteristics are what make him a spymaster. Espionage is about blending in, not ski jumping off cliffs while revealing who it is you’re spying for. The irony, however, is that the unrealistic nature of the latter is exactly what most people want to see. The balance between portraying the realities of espionage while catering to the audience’s desire for action and bold characters is hard to strike. Many le Carré adaptations fail to get it just right. But it’s not just le Carré: the same dilemma often goes unresolved in other spy novel adaptations and original spy thrillers. 

Slow Horses, the Apple TV+ series adaptation of Mick Herron’s Slough House books, is an exception to that norm. A quite brilliant one at that too. Since the series premiered in 2022 (the Season 4 premiere came out earlier this week), it’s been one of my most recommended shows regardless of genre. I’m willing to argue that it's one of the best TV shows currently on air, and given that it’s on Apple TV+, I can pretty much guarantee it’s the best show on television that you’re not watching.  

A quick intermission before we delve deeper into the brilliance of Slow Horses: if you’re an avid reader of Omakase Formula, you should’ve seen this post coming from the very beginning. Here’s an excerpt from my introduction post: 

Obviously, slipping it in once and never mentioning it again would’ve been too random. So here’s an excerpt from my post about The Curse:

If you missed both of those, no worries! After all, they say third time’s the charm. So here’s an excerpt from my post about The Game: 

If you did see the clues, let me know in the comments below! And even if you didn’t, that’s ok too! I’d still love to hear from you in the comments!

Anyway, back to normal programming:

What is Slow Horses about? The series follows MI5 agents who have been assigned to the Slough House branch of the agency. Think of Slough House as purgatory. Agents assigned here are considered failures who aren’t good enough for “heaven” (working at MI5’s main headquarters), but who also have not been consigned to “hell” (officially fired from the service). Yet, despite being a band of misfits and rejects, these agents, nicknamed “slow horses,” find themselves at the center of plots that threaten Britain’s security. 

So how does Slow Horses get things right? The answer can be found in the character of Jackson Lamb, played to perfection by Gary Oldman. Despite his position as the head of Slough House, Lamb is actually a legendary spy whose name is known and feared by everyone in the intelligence community. Simply put, he is the world’s greatest f***ing spy. And by f***ing, I mean farting.

I’m serious. If Gary Oldman ever teaches a masterclass (which he absolutely should), one lesson needs to be fully dedicated to the art of farting. Oldman has playfully described himself as a “fart consultant,” and the results of serious research and conversation speak for themselves: our introduction to Lamb in Season 1 remains one of television’s most iconic entrances in recent memory. 

What’s brilliant about Lamb's flatulence, however, is that it’s not used for comic relief. Sure, it’s still funny for the viewer. But Lamb doesn’t fart in the world of Slow Horses to get a chuckle out of whoever is unfortunate enough to be within his blast radius. Rather, the farts are a carefully deployed weapon, one meant to destabilize the opposition and assert control. It makes sense when you think about it. We view farts as something funny but embarrassing. If someone else farted, there’s a chance you’d laugh. But knowing that farting can be subject to mockery and ridicule means we would be beyond embarrassed if we accidentally farted in front of other people. That Lamb lets one rip without second thought even when he has company is a sign of how unflappable he truly is beneath his shabby, unkempt appearance. 

The reason why I’m devoting all this time to talking about Gary Oldman’s farting masterclass (besides the obvious fact it deserves all the awards) is because it perfectly encapsulates how Slow Horses bridges the gap between the world of espionage le Carré championed and the world of espionage pushed by successful franchises such as Bond. A farting spymaster who berates his subordinates—when a slow horse tells Lamb he didn’t mean to kill an intruder, Lamb responds, “Of course you didn’t. If you meant to kill him, he’d still be alive.”—is an entertaining character worth following. And while there are still shootouts and chases, moments like Lamb’s fart bombs point towards the more psychological aspects of espionage. 

The show makes it clear over time that Lamb does have a moral compass of sorts and cares deeply about his Slough House underlings. However, it is also quick to skewer the notion that espionage as a whole is governed by a moral compass. The slow horses Lamb oversees may be incompetent in myriad ways, but the shortcomings of the self-serving and power-hungry wolves at the head of MI5 mean they’re not necessarily much better, despite looking down on Slough House from their high horses at headquarters. 

I know I mentioned earlier that Season 4 of Slow Horses premiered earlier this week. Don’t let the fact that there are so many seasons to catch up on deter you from starting: each season only has six episodes. The show has also already finished filming Season 5, which means that, unlike some other prestige dramas that can sometimes go years between seasons, there will be more new episodes to look forward to next year. Even if you’re not big on the spy genre, I would still urge you to give the show a try. It’s a tightly plotted drama that’s easily digestible, but it’s incredibly funny as well. Creator and showrunner Will Smith (no, not that one) was a writer on The Thick of It and Veep, and his comedy chops are put to good use here. The jokes are all perfectly timed, not to mention absolutely hilarious. More importantly, they don't overwhelm the dramatic elements of the story.   

And then there are the farts. If anything, you should give Slow Horses a chance just for those. I’m telling you, they’re absolutely hilarious and f***ing epic. And I don’t mean “farting” this time around.