‘Sweetpea’ Review: Ella Purnell Is in Full Control of Starz’s Deliciously Queasy Serial Killer Thriller
I don’t usually think about whether someone's life might have been better by being part of the cannibalistic girl gangs in Yellowjackets.
However, the main character of Sweetpea, Rhiannon Lewis, portrayed by Ella Purnell from Yellowjackets, could be an unusual case. Perhaps if she had the opportunity to face her teenage struggles directly, instead of allowing them to fester, she wouldn't have turned to serial killing as a way to cope with her overwhelming anger.
The Conclusion is fascinatingly unclear.
Showtime: 12:00 a.m. on Thursday, October 10 (available on the Starz app); 8 p.m. on Friday, October 11 (on Starz) Starring: Ella Purnell, Nicôle Lecky, Calam Lynch, Leah Harvey, Jon Pointing, Dustin Demri-Burns, Jeremy Swift Creator: Kirstie Swain, inspired by the book by C.J. Skuse
In Rhiannon's favor, the Starz series presents her journey as enjoyable—up to a certain extent. Her trail of chaos often feels like a fantasy come true for anyone who has fantasized about revenge against a childhood bully, an unpleasant stranger, or an irritating colleague. (Just to clarify for my THR teammates: none of you are in that category, I assure you.) However, what makes this British show more disturbing and, ultimately, more engaging is its ability to explore the complicated gray area between revenge and cruelty, as well as the blurred lines between victim and aggressor.
At 26 years old, Rhiannon works as a junior assistant to a newspaper editor in a small town (played by Jeremy Swift from Ted Lasso), who nearly laughs her out of the office when she inquires about a promotion. During her free time, she sends messages to a past fling (Jon Pointing), who shows little interest, barely managing to reply with just an emoji.
Constantly unnoticed and undervalued, Rhiannon connects her present issues to her teenage years, when a cruel classmate named Julia (Nicôle Lecky) pushed her into anxiety-driven trichotillomania (the uncontrollable urge to pull out her hair), shamed her in front of others, and ultimately shattered her self-esteem. It's no surprise that her darkly humorous inner thoughts often resemble an Arya Stark-style list of “people I wish would disappear.”
In Rhiannon's life, there are few positives, but she finds solace in her beloved Chihuahua, Tink, and her sick father, Tommy (played by David Bark-Jones), whom she looks after in her childhood home. However, after a particularly rough day during the hour-long premiere, she finally stands up against a fate that seems intent on bringing her down. While her initial act of aggression is defensive, it awakens something within her. For the first time in what feels like ages, the once-timid Rhiannon walks away from the situation feeling empowered and with a newfound confidence.
Are we witnessing the successful ascent of a surprising contender, or is this the tale of how a monster came to be? Rhiannon firmly claims, and emphasizes, that it's the former. However, her performance leaves some ambiguity.
Right from the beginning, creator Kirstie Swain, who is adapting a book by C.J. Skuse, introduces hints that make us question Rhiannon’s self-centered viewpoint. For example, can we truly blame Julia if Rhiannon ends up in a terrible accident due to her anger at a billboard advertising Julia’s real estate business? Is Rhiannon really being overlooked by everyone around her, or is she simply dismissing people—such as her charming new co-worker, AJ (Calam Lynch)—who actually pay attention to her and show real concern?
This method has its drawbacks. Although the series intentionally creates ambiguity between the roles of abuser and victim, it sometimes relies on trauma to quickly evoke feelings of empathy. As a result, some secondary characters may come off as more like concepts or ideas rather than fully developed individuals.
Ultimately, the uncertainty around right and wrong adds to the exciting allure. For Rhiannon, who often feels wronged, being a victim and a villain are intertwined aspects of her identity. Much like Joe from You, she becomes even more dangerous because she skillfully manages to portray herself as a sympathetic character.
Purnell, who has excelled in dark and eerie settings with her work in this series, Fallout, and Yellowjackets, skillfully captures the complexity of her character. Her large, innocent eyes convey a sense of vulnerability, but her private smirks reveal a more sinister side, especially when she delivers her own twisted version of justice. Jo Thompson’s costumes downplay Purnell's naturally striking features, often making her blend into the background. At one point, a passerby even confuses her crouched figure, dressed in a rain slicker, for a trash bag. While it’s frustrating for her, it’s hard to fault the stranger for making that mistake.
In Sweetpea, predicting what will happen next is usually straightforward; there were moments where I anticipated characters making decisions or having realizations that had been hinted at in earlier episodes. However, expressing what I truly wanted to happen proved to be more difficult, especially during the latter part of the six-episode season. This section highlights a detective named Marina (Leah Harvey), whose intense obsession with Rhiannon stems from their shared traits rather than their differences.
One drawback of the show's willingness to explore uncertainty is that it can leave viewers feeling unsatisfied, especially if they weren't quite sure what they wanted from the story in the first place. Luckily, Sweetpea doesn’t force us to make a choice; instead, it delivers an ambiguous ending that hints at more shocking developments ahead. No matter where the journey leads next, I’m definitely going to follow the girl who claimed she was unseen by everyone.
