Black Doves

Despite the rain, queuing, and an entire population powered by cigarettes and passive aggression, the U.K. has given us a lot over the years: The Beatles, Harry Potter, The Beckhams, and approximately 14,000 excellent spy thrillers. And since espionage stories are one of Britain's most reliable exports – we'll happily keep taking more.

So when Netflix dropped Black Doves — spies, Christmas in London, Keira Knightley busting heads, Ben Whishaw with a shotgun and an expensive coat — we said, 'Thank you, Santa.'

And when The Pogues kick in, you realize nothing says holiday spirit quite like espionage. Knightley plays Helen Webb, the wife of a British politician who's secretly worked for the Black Doves — a covert spy network — for years. But after her secret lover turns up dead, Helen gets pulled back into a web of assassins, political conspiracies, and old relationships resurfacing while London glows with enough Christmas lights to distract from all the murder.

Black Doves doesn't aim for prestige. It's slick, heightened, occasionally ridiculous – and usually very fun. Giant orchestral scores swell over repressed feelings mid-shootout. Characters process heartbreak while dodging bullets under the holiday glow. Keira Knightley fully kicks some ass; Ben Whishaw gives the whole thing a melancholy center. The MVPs might be the assassin duo Williams and Eleanor, who wander through the series treating contract killings like items on a grocery list.

But Black Doves never quite graduates from an entertaining binge into a genuinely great spy thriller. Part of that comes from the show pushing for emotional stakes so hard it starts fighting the thriller around it. Like when Helen takes phone calls from her kids while bullets are flying… uh, Keira, honey — someone's shooting at you. Call them back.

Still, this is exactly the kind of show Netflix thrives on. Will this become the next great spy thriller? Probably not. Will we absolutely throw season two on during Christmas break anyway? Without hesitation.