[Editor’s Note: The following review contains spoilers for “The Agency” Season 1, Episode 10, “Overtaken By Events.”]
The finale of “The Agency,” Showtime’s espionage thriller from writers John-Henry and Jez Buttersworth, opens on Michael Fassbender concealing his face. The man they call Martian is revving up his motorcycle, so he pushes down his black helmet and slides the visor shut over his eyes. In the moment, it’s a practical matter, but later, when he’s struck by a passing car and thrown from his bike, the habitual safety choice becomes another stark reminder of what’s at stake for our lovelorn spy: If he wants to survive, he has to hide his identity. Always. Without fail.
Throughout the 10-episode first season of “The Agency,” adapted from the 2015 French series “Le Bureau des Legendes,” Martian has to mask his true intentions in order to get what he wants. Sometimes, it’s for work, like when he’s trying to find and secure the rogue agent called Coyote (Alex Reznik). Sometimes, it’s for his family, like when his vague explanations and mysterious behavior equally irritate and protect his only daughter, Poppy (India Fowler). But even when he’s by himself and off-duty (if a professional spy can ever truly punch out), Martian still has to hide. He has to hide his disillusionment with the CIA, he has to hide the particulars of his spycraft, and most of all he has to hide the fact that he’s in love with a woman who doesn’t even know his real name.
That tension — the unknowns of a love affair where one party is a spy, the other might be, and neither knows how much they can trust the other, even as they’re repeatedly drawn back together — is the beating heart of “The Agency.” The finale doesn’t get us any closer to the truth about Samia (Jodie Turner-Smith), saving that critical reveal for a later season. But Episode 10 does focus its icy gaze on Martian’s escalating obsession with saving her — and (it nearly goes without saying) saving himself. Did Martian’s constant camouflage work? Did his secrecy and self-concealment shield him, like with his motorcycle helmet? Or, in a tragic twist, did they doom him not only to the perilous, short-lived life of a double agent, but also to a lonely life it’s clear he can no longer stand to live?
The answer, or as much of an answer as there is just yet, can only be found via a close examination of Michael Fassbender‘s face — one “The Agency” provides again and again from its very first scene, and one the actor illuminates with magnificent clarity throughout.
Take, for instance, the fateful meeting that leads to Martian’s motorcycle “accident.” Having successfully baited British intelligence by sitting down at the Ritz’s cigar lounge with Sudanese negotiator, Dalaga (David Harewood) — he knew the room would be bugged — Martian accepts an invitation to talk with his old “friend” Jim Richardson (Hugh Bonneville) about what MI6 can do to save Samia (who’s reportedly on her way to a nightmarish prison). “We know where she is, which wing, cell,” Richardson says. “We have an S.A.S. unit with eyes on the prison, primed and ready to go. You just give the word and she’s out of there before you can get back across the river.”
At this remark, Martian looks dumbstruck. The proximity Richardson claims to have would knock anyone back a few steps. Realizing she’s that close to safety, that close to salvation, has to be disorienting, especially after his own boss (Richard Gere) just finished telling him Samia was well out of reach. But Martian’s deer-in-the-headlights demeanor is also attributable to the cost of this quick-and-easy rescue mission: Martian’s loyalty. Richardson will only give the go order if Martian agrees to serve as a double agent. He wants Martian to keep working within the CIA but on behalf of MI6, and he wants an answer now.
“Yes,” Martian says, after a brief back-and-forth, and it’s only then he realizes Richardson is teasing him. The offer isn’t real. Richardson was merely seeing where Martian’s loyalties really lied, in preparation for their future encounter at the hospital. But Martian didn’t know that. He only knew what he was told. He only felt the clock ticking down on Samia’s safety, and he responded accordingly. The lengths of his devotion prove shocking even to the man who feels them, given his feelings so rarely get to decide anything.
Such scenes aren’t unique to the spy genre. Personal and professional allegiance are often pitted against one another. Friends lie, blackmail, and betray. Agents rarely know themselves as well as they think they know everyone else. But what makes “The Agency’s” version of these events so rewarding is Fassbender himself.
While Martian and Richardson are talking, we, the viewers, have to entertain the idea that Martian is performing; that he knows, or at least suspects, what Richardson is up to, and he’s simply playing his part. Instead of Richardson learning something about Martian, perhaps Martian is planting an idea in Richardson so he can get closer to him, gain his trust, and enact a plan of his own.
But when Richardson drives away, episode director Neil Burger lingers on Martian for an extra few beats, and his expression doesn’t change. His mask doesn’t slip. His emotions — fear, pain, regret — are all as raw as they were when Richardson was still watching. They’re as real as the Martian’s offer to betray his country, and Fassbender channels them with honest conviction. This isn’t a sly spy carrying out a covert operation; this is a spy whose careful plans have been overtaken by events.
But that’s not who Martian was all along. When “The Agency” begins, Martian is being debriefed by his handler, Naomi (Katherine Waterston), explaining how he ended things with Samia before returning home. “She got angry, yelled, the usual bullshit break-up scene,” he says. “Just a touch more brutal.” But flashbacks tell a different story. Samia is quick to accept the break-up, even gracious. “It had to happen,” she says. “I’ll be fine.” She’s calm throughout, and they even sleep together one last time.
Naomi knows none of this, nor is she suspicious about Martian’s explanation. Why? She trusts him, sure, but also because Martian is in complete control of his story. He recounts his version of events tersely, not unlike many emotionally closed-off men would, but he’s not evasive. He knows Naomi needs to ask what happened with Samia, he knows she needs to know what happened with Samia, so he doesn’t try to run away from it. He even tries to stick as close to the truth as possible, like so many good liars do: He says Samia cried, when he did. He says she tried to get physical, when they both did. He alludes to the split being “brutal” because of her, but really it was brutal for him. He loves her, and he had to leave her.
Fassbender, as a performer playing a character in the middle of their own performance, doesn’t give anything away — not like he does in the finale, when Martian is no longer in control. Initially, he’s comfortable, confidant, and relaxed. He cuts his bitterness with a sense of boredom to throw Naomi and others off the scent, when in reality he can’t keep it from slowly eating away at his soul. By Episode 10, he’s discombobulated, desperate, and tense. His heartache over Samia and resentment toward the CIA has coalesced within him. It’s changed him. And you can see it in his wide eyes, his accentuated wrinkles, his drooping countenance.
Such meticulous attention to Martian’s slight but critical evolution is a credit to both Fassbender and the Butterworths. They understand Martian is an elite spy, so he’s been trained not to give anything away unless he wants to, which means whenever he does, the audience needs to recognize it. Making sure we do is everyone’s responsibility (the writers, the directors, the lighting technicians, everybody), even if there’s an added weight on Fassbender to convey emotions clearly, without the benefit of supporting exposition. That’s how important our lead characters’ face is to appreciating the show’s central story.
So it’s no coincidence the first shot of “The Agency” and the last shot of Season 1 are funhouse mirror versions of each other. The introductory image (directed by Joe Wright) sees Martian striding off the private plane that brought him home. As the hanger door slowly rises, he walks a literal straight line (painted on the tarmac) toward the camera, one hand casually in his front pocket, the other holding a loose duffel slung coolly over his shoulder. He walks up, drops his luggage, and — looking slightly above camera — hands over his electronics. But his expression is inscrutable. He could be resentful, suspicious, or complacent — or he could just be tired after a long flight and an even longer mission. Not knowing what to make of Martian is exactly what he wants. Whoever is there to greet him, it’s best if they can’t get a read on a man whose life depends on letting his mystery be. If they know what he’s really thinking or feeling, they could use it against him. Presenting as an indecipherable puzzle is paramount.
Which is why the closing shot is so tragic. After returning to work to a hero’s welcome, Martian walks to his office and looks out on the people who just applauded his noble work and safe recovery. His bruises caught by the window’s light, his good side cast in ominous shadow, Martian’s focus shifts from the people on the other side of the glass to the man staring back at him in it. Unable to look himself in the eye, he turns away and, as he remembers Richardson’s last words to him — “All you have to do is keep a secret” — Martian’s inscrutable expression reasserts itself. His mask, his armor, is back on.
The only question is how long he can keep it up.
Grade: B+
“The Agency” Season 1 is available on Paramount+ with Showtime. The series has been renewed for Season 2.
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