When it comes to historical dramas on TV, I’m always a fan of shows that resist the temptation to re-tread well worn events and instead try and tease out something more interesting from the edges. So I was pretty excited when new drama Dope Girls aired in the UK earlier this year, drawing from the lesser-known history of female criminal gangs in interwar London (and undoubtedly greenlit owing to the popularity of Peaky Blinders). Plus, it’s set in Soho, literally London’s gay epicentre for over 100 years! Which means the only real crime would be if none of the characters were queer.
Opening in the immediate aftermath of the First World War Armistice, Dope Girls sets itself in a tinderbox of social upheaval: shell-shocked soldiers returning to a country they barely recognise amidst struggles for women’s rights, new immigrant communities and a population ravaged by pandemic and poverty.
It’s this homecoming that sparks protagonist Kate Galloway’s actions, lighting a fuse that burns and pops through the entire first season. A seemingly well-mannered woman working in a village shop, Kate loses her job when the owner returns from war. When her husband commits suicide leaving a string of debt behind him, Kate decides the only option for her and teenage daughter Evie is to steal her ex-employer’s takings and trot off to London to seek out her other (estranged) daughter, nightclub dancer Billie. Before you know it, Kate has violently killed a scion of the local Italian crime family, stolen another giant bag of cash, and decided she will set up her own nightclub to capitalise on Soho’s descent/ascent into debauchery.
Arriving at the same time in the capital is Violet Davies (Eliza Scanlen), down from a vaguely specified Northern environ to pursue the dubious dream of becoming one of Britain’s first female police officers. With her blonde curls, tough stance and burgeoning lesbianism, Violet could almost pass as Betty McRae from Bomb Girls, if someone had ripped out Betty’s wholesome soul and replaced it with a dark and ravenous void.
Why are the police suddenly interested in recruiting women? Because they have decided that nightclubs are the worst! Therefore they need all the help they can get in rooting out all the sleaze and are willing to take on ten “lucky” women that can make it through their rigorous recruitment process involving light stretches and jogging around a room that bears an alarming resemblance to my old school gym. No sooner has she trysted in a back alley with a fellow candidate, than Violet has dobbed her in for immoral activity and snagged the final spot on the roster. Immediately she’s tasked with strip-searching/assaulting a woman hauled in from a nightclub raid — you’ve guessed it: Kate.
Over six episodes, Dope Girls mostly deals with the consequences of its bombastic start and how its protagonists become increasingly tangled in the web of the Salucci family, a generally tiresome bunch of men with issues, with occasional oversight from matriarch Isabella (played by Geraldine James, who a select few may remember from her queer-adjacent star turn in Band of Gold many years back). Eagle-eyed fans of British sapphic TV may also spot Fiona Button (Tess from Lip Service) as the aristocratic wife of the minister tasked with running the police.
Although the show cracks on with the action admirably quickly compared to a lot of period dramas, therein lies the issue that prevents the show from making the most of its enticing milieu: when you’ve already had your lead characters solemnly steal, murder and backstab their way through the first hour, you’re left with a choice to either ramp up the action to untenable levels or else risk something of deflation. For me, it was definitely the latter. There’s still a lot to enjoy about the setting though, from the realistic diversity of Soho in that period, to the post-club scenes in the hazy dawn of smog-filled London, to the covetable Edwardian champagne coupes (that might just be me).
This show doesn’t attempt to make any character likeable, but we never get enough glimpses of the protagonists’ back story to root for them as antiheroes. We know Violet’s sister met a tragic end, which presumably has spurred her into the police. Yet without fleshing that out (or getting deeper into her “invert” leanings), we can admire Eliza Scanlen’s electric performance, but never really get behind Violet. Similarly, there’s teasings about why Kate abandoned Billie in London, leaving you with the sensation there was something foundational that happened to Kate, but we’re left guessing at what. We see Kate and Violet developing as two sides of the same coin: women forced by circumstance and their own spiraling choices to blast a path forward for themselves, making up for their lack of power and leverage through violent determination.
At times, Dope Girls feels like an under-cooked origin story for these characters; here’s hoping for a second season so we can see Violet and Kate develop from enigmas into the compelling kingpins they could be.
Dope Girls is streaming now in the UK on BBC iPlayer, and in the US from July 28 on Hulu.
