Note: This article contains potential spoilers for Black Doves.
As anti-hero characters such as Deadpool, John Wick, and Jack Sparrow have become increasingly popular in comic books, films, and TV series in recent decades, they’ve introduced a sort of no-holds-barred protagonist. Beholden to no one or nothing except their own desires, these individuals are characterized by a snarky brand of selfishness, a team-of-one mentality, and a disdain for the rules of the natural world.
At first glance, the spies and assassins in Netflix’s popular new Black Doves series appear no different. However, even these ruthless killers are not entirely free of the need for boundaries or, as they call it, a “code”—a reminder that even anti-heroes are not as unregulated as we might think. Their need for some kind of moral guidance in even the most grisly matters mirrors our own human desperation for boundaries and rules that stem from a force greater than us.
The Anti-Hero
Even in our fantasies of a completely unregulated and unrestricted life, we still feel the need to draw the line somewhere.
Before becoming the wife of the UK Defense Minister, Helen Webb (Kiera Knightley) worked as a spy for an underground organization called the Black Doves—something her husband and children know nothing about. But Helen has yet another secret; she’s been having an affair. And when Helen’s affair ends with the murder of her lover, Jason, she’s drawn back into the world of spies and assassins. This also draws her back into a friendship with her old colleague Sam Young (Ben Whishaw), a Black Doves assassin.
Sam is presented as the epitome of an anti-hero: a sly, sarcastic, cold-hearted assassin whose first victim was his own father. However, we’re soon presented with two chinks in Sam’s armor: his love for his former partner Michael and his refusal to go too far (i.e., killing a child). In a flashback, we see Sam given a hit job, only to realize that one of his targets is a young boy. Enter Sam’s code. Though he gets paid lots of money to end people’s lives, Sam draws the line when he refuses to kill the child, ultimately leaving the job incomplete.
As humans, we love to categorize ourselves. We make comfortable little pyramids in which there are people who are obviously “worse” than us (like murderers and war criminals) and “better” than us (like Mother Teresa and Mahatma Gandhi). But in our mortal contradictions, we subsequently find ourselves wanting to escape that restrictive framework. Thus, the anti-hero who represents everything we wish we could be and who we think we would be if we didn’t have to play by all of those pesky moral and social rules. They’re free, determined, and beholden to no one but themselves.
But Sam is proof that, even in our fantasies of a completely unregulated and unrestricted life, we’ll still feel the need to draw the line somewhere. “You do you” works until someone is guilty of something we deem beyond the line, which is when we decide that someone else needs to step in.
The Danger of Relying on Human Codes
“Drawing the line” can give us a sense of security, as if we can pin down exactly where things stop being permissible and start becoming inexcusable. But the problem with relying on our own definition of right and wrong—our own moral code—is that it’s ever-changing. And crucially, it’s different for everyone.
This is shown expertly in Black Doves when Sam’s refusal to kill his young target catches up with him. Lenny, the criminal boss who ordered the hit in the first place, has her own code. As she asserts to Sam when they first meet, “this is a business of codes.” And the code of this business is retribution. When Lenny catches up to Sam, she asks him to give her “an apology, move on to an explanation, and eventually arrive at recompense.”
This is justice in their world. And often in ours, as well.
Here we see the issue with crowning each individual person as the writer of their own code, for different people’s codes will inevitably clash. And in those instances, whose code should we hail as the “proper” one? Who receives recompense and justice for the hurt that’s been done?
Black Doves shows us how things can get very messed up, very quickly, when each person pursues their own vision of justice. The series presents a world in which each person looking out for their own interests is led into conflict with someone else, a world where each party believes in their personal right to victory.
The series’ mess—replete with shootouts, assassinations, lies, and vengeance—makes us want to take a step back from the anti-hero’s idealized life. As it turns out, working within our own idea of a code might not be so freeing after all.
Conclusion
This is where we find ourselves casting about for something more. In the same way that assassins and crime lords search about for a “code” to make things fair, even in the back alleys that serve as their offices, we’re all looking for a greater form of justice than we can find on earth. In contrast to what we often believe, following someone else’s rules begets far more freedom than muddling our way through life with our own fallible human codes, codes that only land us in a mess.
As Lenny tells Sam, whose personal code ran up against hers, “You’ve got a warm heart. A warm heart and blood on your hands, and that’s not a good combination.” That is precisely where following an earthly form of ideals will get us, with our selfish desires putting blood on our hands and our heavenly instinct in horror of it.
But letting go and relaxing our grip on the idea that we need to be in control of everything from action to justice to retribution allows us a way out of that. Trusting in the Lord to enact his perfect justice is not always easy, especially when pain and injustice surround us. As Sam and Helen stood amongst gunfire from people whom they had not wronged or had their loved ones threatened by overly vengeful opponents, they felt compelled to take things into their own hands. As a result, however, the gunfire only grew more intense and their loved ones were still endangered.
Trusting the Lord’s justice is scary, too. It often doesn’t feel as tangible as what we believe we’re able to do or as rational as our own viewpoint. But the Bible and the Lord’s past provision shows us that justice is close to his heart and, crucially, it is perfect. Whether or not we are able to see the greater workings of his justice in this life, we can trust that his solutions—his “code”—will be so much more compassionate, successful, and true than our own.
