If you’ve ever felt nostalgic for Alias, the early 2000s ABC spy drama that launched Jennifer Garner’s career, Queen Sono is definitely a show for you. With a first season clocking in at a very manageable six episodes (all of which run under an hour, with some even closer to 30 minutes), the first ever South African series on Netflix has a lot going for it even though it never manages to reach the heights it could. Anchored by a stellar starring turn from Pearl Thulsi as the titular character, the series doesn’t have the narrative heft (or the budget) to harken back to the glory days of Alias (you know, before it got bogged down in mysticism and double and triple-crossing character arcs), but it makes for a fun binge.
Queen Sono tells the story of a young spy who chafes against the rigid rules of her organization, preferring to do things with her own twist. Naturally, there’s more than meets the eye to Queen, who is still dealing with the trauma of the assassination of her political activist mother (who was killed while playing with a very young Queen), trying to balance her personal life unsuccessfully with her professional obligations, and refusing to admit that there’s anything she needs to deal with on an emotional level. There’s sociopolitical intrigue, a Russian villain looking to get her hooks into the African sphere of influence, and the continuing mystery of just who was responsible for ordering the death of Queen’s mother. It’s a lot to pack into six episodes, and it certainly falls short in several areas (namely character development of all characters not named Queen Sono), but it has one great thing going for it: a sensational lead performance from Thulsi.
It’s hard to overstate how essential Thulsi is to the success of Queen Sono. Sure, she’s playing the title character so you can assume she’s essential to the story, but Thulsi’s performance sets the entire tone for the series. A series about spies means there are a number of tonal shifts throughout the season, and Thulsi’s work lends a level of humanity to even the most over-the-top fight sequence. On paper, Queen is a character with a rather typical spy backstory (broken home, assassinated mother, deep sense of justice, fear of getting close to those around her made manifest in every facet of her life by her decision to work in a field where she never really has to be herself), but Thulsi infuses her with depth and layers that aren’t there in the writing. While I had issues with several of the series’ less defined characters, I never once doubted that Queen was the real deal. I could understand how this woman became a spy, I could understand what from her past (and present) drove her in her work, and I could feel the deep sense of loss and need for love that pushed her to make some of the less-than-brilliant moves she makes throughout the course of the season. Each moment feels earned with Queen because Thulsi has done the work to make the audience understand what’s happening internally to influence Queen’s external actions.
While the series hinges on Thulsi (and soars whenever she’s given a chance to shine), there are a number of interesting, if underdeveloped, characters that surround her. What’s particularly noteworthy about these characters is that nearly all of them are women. A series set in the high stakes world of espionage having women in nearly every high-profile role is still a novel choice in this day and age, but a welcome one. I just wish the series took the time to develop the characters with the same depth and layers as it does Queen. The character who comes closest to matching Queen’s level of character depth is Miri (played with a cautious level of restraint by Chi Mhende, which makes you wish she was able to really show us all that Miri has simmering under the surface), the head of the Special Operations Group (the clandestine South African organization Queen works for), who happens to be a childhood friend of Queen who was groomed for her role by her equally politically connected mother.
It’s a heck of a complicated character and we are shown hints of the extreme pressures she was subjected to growing up (and continues to deal with in the present), but the writing never gives us the deeper look into the character that we need to really understand her. Miri butts heads with Queen several times over the six episodes, but each interaction is a missed opportunity to delve more into the shared past of the characters. There’s years of frustrations, friendship, love, and respect there, but the show opts to paint the relationship as more “frustrated boss just can’t control the hotshot agent under their control” than the deeply resonate relationship that could be present. We know they aren’t close now, but we also know Miri cares about Queen on a personal level. We need to see that manifest on screen through the writing. It’s a missed opportunity that I hope the series revisits in season two (should it be renewed).
However, the show’s largest missed opportunity is in its treatment of its villain, Ekaterina Gromova. There’s an interesting character buried within the paint by numbers treatment the series provides for her. The fault is one of lazy writing rather than performance, as Kate Liquorish does her best to make Gromova compelling, but it’s an uphill battle when the only character trait the writers gave her to work with was “angry that her misogynistic crime boss father favored her less impressive brother over her.” Creating a series with so many women in traditionally male spaces (spies, the upper echelons of government, head of international crime syndicates) is great. But you need to spend the time to build those characters beyond the basic archetypal roles they inhabit.
Gramova could have been a compelling foil for Queen – they’re both working through some past familial trauma and both have a penchant for doing what they want, damn the consequences – but the series never takes the necessary steps to create that bond. When the duo has their climactic head-to-head fight (and it’s a great fight), it ends up feeling like a missed opportunity to explore both characters deeper rather than a jumping off point for a larger conflict between the pair. If there’s a second season, one of my greatest hopes is that the series takes the time to spend more time delving into Gramova. Why is she convinced her power play in Africa is the right one? How far is she willing to go to get what she wants? And, perhaps most importantly, what sets her apart from Queen? How close is Queen to becoming Gramova – what makes Gramova the villain and Queen the hero? Liquorish has the acting chops to delve deeper into this character (there are flashes of the character Gramova could become throughout the series) – she just needs to be given the chance to run with the character.
As with a number of recent shows, Queen Soto feels, at times, like the expositional phase of a story. It’s more concerned with introducing the greater universe of this world than with drilling down into the characters or exploring the season arc. That’s all well and good, but we need compelling characters and a clear dramatic arc to sustain the season. Without knowing if the series will get a second season (it’s done well in its initial release, so I would assume a second season would be in the works), one would assume the writers would be more concerned with making sure we cared enough about the characters and the fate of Africa to entice us to come back for round two. There’s enough here to keep me interested in a return trip to Johannesburg, but season two needs to double down on the character development to make that trip worth my while.
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