Killing Eve: The Importance of being Villanelle

Still nursing a grudge against the Game of Thrones finale? Still feeling the sting from the long-awaited ending that left you unsatisfied? Fret not! There’s a remedy for your particular state of discontent, as some vocal Twitter aficionados might call it—pain.

I must admit, I skipped the last few seasons of Game of Thrones for reasons I can’t quite recall. Perhaps I grew weary of fantasy tropes like dragons, swords, and incest, choosing instead to seek out more relatable content during that phase of my life. I craved realistic, raw narratives—stories infused with humor, darkness, and cynicism. I needed shows that resonated with my own struggles, reflecting a present-day female perspective rather than a fantastical agenda.

So, what was my remedy? It comes in the form of a 33-year-old woman armed with a savage wit and a masterful storytelling ability: Phoebe Waller-Bridge, the creator of Killing Eve and previously the phenomenal Fleabag.

Have you ever found yourself resisting something only to be struck by the realization, “Oh my God, how did I not discover this sooner?” I genuinely believe that good art finds us at precisely the right moment, neither too soon nor too late—just when we’re ready to learn a lesson.

You’ve probably seen Killing Eve by now, but if you haven’t, be warned—this post contains spoilers! Before diving in, I went in blind, knowing nothing about the plot or premise. My interest lay solely in the creator, Phoebe. I had read an interview in which she was asked to describe her writing process in three words. Her response? “Panic. Panic. Hope.” That was all it took to sell me. If you've ever tried writing, you understand.

As I mentioned earlier, I longed for a show with a female perspective. In today's climate, anything labeled as "female" often gets pigeonholed as feminist, which can be a trap. Interestingly, in another interview, Waller-Bridge echoed this sentiment:

“If you enter the mainstream with a female perspective that resonates with many, you’re suddenly burdened with a political agenda. You’re labeled a feminist and become a role model, which means you can’t slip up because you must be sensitive to political issues.”

Unfortunately, many people today—including a significant number of men—seem to misunderstand feminism. They fear women are gearing up for a revolution to dismantle male dominance. In reality, feminism advocates for equality, a world where the differences between the sexes don’t have to be constantly considered.

In Killing Eve, Waller-Bridge excels at portraying this perspective. The assassin, Villanelle, is a woman who never appears weaker due to her gender. In typical films or TV shows, when a woman fights a man, you might instinctively flinch, anticipating her defeat. In contrast, Killing Eve flips this narrative. Instead of fearing for Villanelle, you find yourself concerned for her male victims. You never doubt her strength; watching her is genuinely chilling. Take the scene in the club when she makes eye contact with Bill before lunging at him—it’s a moment where even I got scared, on the other side of the screen.

Another brilliantly written aspect of the show is its approach to age and sexuality. Villanelle is in her twenties, while Eve is nearing fifty. Yet, this age difference doesn’t dominate their dynamic. As for sexuality, Villanelle’s job requires her to seduce both men and women, and her preferences unfold naturally without fanfare.

This is how the male-dominated world has operated for ages—with no fuss. Men’s capabilities and age are rarely questioned. It’s refreshing to see a female-driven narrative where these factors are rendered irrelevant.

Though the entire cast delivers stellar performances, Jodie Comer’s portrayal of Villanelle left me breathless. After finishing the first season, I felt as though I had been hit by a bus—overwhelmed by the quality of her craft. I sat in my room, dazed, confused; what did I just witnessed—I’m one of those odd people who don’t cry over sadness but weep at the sight of extraordinary talent.

When you deconstruct Comer’s role, you realize her performance is more chilling than the on-screen violence. She embodies humor and cold-bloodedness, flawlessly switching between languages and accents, all while looking stunning in chic but likely uncomfortable clothing. She seamlessly conveys menace and vulnerability, predator and prey, in equal measure.

In a sea of untalented actors chasing fame rather than honing their craft, Killing Eve stands out as a cultural phenomenon and a masterclass in performance.

Phoebe Waller-Bridge masterfully creates complex, flawed women whose questionable actions evoke empathy, especially Villanelle. There’s something refreshingly funny about her disregard for consequences, as she boldly navigates life with a level of ease many of us can only dream of—like flipping ice cream into a child’s lap or dismissing an Instagram influencer when asked to take a selfie: “No, of course not. Don’t be pathetic. Get a real life!” In a world saturated with nonsense and superficiality, witnessing a character who unapologetically lives her truth is a groundbreaking televison.

Perhaps most importantly, Killing Eve manages to be sexually charged without veering into exploitative territory. Villanelle may don pretty pink dresses, but the narrative doesn’t cater to male fantasy. The women in the show are not defined by the men in their lives, showcasing the true power of Waller-Bridge’s writing from a strong female perspective and her immense talent for bringing those words to life on screen.