The Gentlemen Season 2 has done something I honestly did not expect from this show: it has made Eddie Horniman considerably more interesting by making him considerably less likable. And I mean that as a compliment.
When the first season introduced Theo James’ Eddie, he was basically the perfect fish-out-of-water character. A former UN peacekeeper, an aristocrat who wanted nothing to do with his family’s criminal mess, and a man desperately trying to keep his estate from being swallowed by the drug empire operating underneath it. He wasn’t innocent, exactly, but there was still a very clear line between Eddie and the people he was dealing with.
Season 2 tears that line apart.
One year later, Eddie isn’t simply trapped in the criminal world anymore. He’s learned how it works, figured out how to manipulate it, and, most dangerously, started enjoying the power that comes with it. That change is the entire reason the new season works for me, even when some of its crazier storytelling choices feel like Guy Ritchie turning the volume knob a little too far.
The question now isn’t whether Eddie can escape the criminal underworld. That version of the character is gone. The much more interesting question is whether Eddie Horniman is slowly becoming the biggest monster in The Gentlemen.
Eddie Horniman Is No Longer Playing Defense
Season 1 was fundamentally a survival story for Eddie. His father left him a complicated inheritance, the family estate was hiding a massive illegal operation, and Eddie had to learn how to negotiate with people who could have killed him without thinking twice.
His relationship with Susie Glass was particularly important because neither of them completely trusted the other. They needed each other, though, and that uneasy partnership gave the first season its spark. Eddie had the title, Susie had the criminal expertise, and together they could keep the entire arrangement from collapsing.
That dynamic has changed dramatically.
In Season 2, Eddie is actively pursuing expansion. He isn’t stumbling into criminal opportunities anymore. He’s looking for them. He understands that money isn’t enough and that controlling territory isn’t enough either. He wants influence, leverage and authority.
And that’s where I started looking at Eddie differently.
There’s something uncomfortable about watching a character who originally wanted to protect his family gradually start making decisions because he simply wants to be the person in charge. The old Eddie would have asked how to get out. The new Eddie asks who needs to be removed.
That is a pretty enormous character shift.
Season 2 Makes Eddie Much Colder
What surprised me most isn’t even the amount of violence. This is The Gentlemen. Obviously people are going to get shot, betrayed, blackmailed, blown up and generally have a terrible week.
The bigger change is Eddie’s emotional response to violence.
He increasingly treats criminal power like a business problem. Someone becomes inconvenient, so Eddie finds a solution. An alliance stops being useful, so he considers changing it. A rival becomes dangerous, so the gloves come off.
That makes him scarier than the loud criminals surrounding him. Eddie doesn’t need to scream or behave like a stereotypical gangster. He can sit there in an expensive suit, speak quietly and make a decision that completely destroys somebody’s life.
That’s the kind of villainy that actually sticks with me.
There are also moments where Season 2 feels much closer to a psychological crime thriller than the breezy gangster comedy that initially made The Gentlemen so entertaining. I enjoyed that change, although I can understand why some viewers won’t. The first season had an effortless sense of fun. Season 2 is more interested in asking what happens when Eddie stops pretending that he’s only doing this because he has to.
The Michael Corleone Comparison Makes More Sense Than Ever
Yes, the Michael Corleone comparison is obvious. And no, I don’t think fans are reaching by making it.
Eddie and Michael start from remarkably similar positions. Neither man initially wants to become the family criminal mastermind. Both have a respectable identity that separates them from the family’s darker business. Both are intelligent enough to understand the machinery of power once they’re forced to enter it.
And then comes the really dangerous part: they’re better at it than almost everyone around them.
That’s the trap.
Once Eddie discovers that he’s good at this world, walking away becomes much harder. Every successful negotiation reinforces his confidence. Every rival he defeats makes the next confrontation easier. Eventually, survival stops being the explanation for his actions and becomes an excuse.
The parallels become even harder to ignore after Bella’s death. Her fate carries obvious echoes of The Godfather, particularly the way personal tragedy can become the final push toward emotional isolation.
I’m not convinced Eddie’s transformation is simply a revenge story, though. That would be too easy. Bella’s death matters because it strips away another piece of the ordinary life Eddie could have had. Once that possibility disappears, what exactly is left for him?
Power.
And Eddie is getting increasingly comfortable with it.
Stanley Johnston Is Basically Eddie’s Darkest Thought Given a Body
Giancarlo Esposito’s Stanley Johnston is one of the most fascinating additions to Eddie’s story because he doesn’t function like a conventional villain. He feels more like a distorted mentor.
Johnston constantly feeds Eddie’s ego. He talks about bloodlines, legacy, power and destiny in a way that borders on ridiculous, but underneath the theatrics there is a very serious idea: what happens when Eddie starts believing that his aristocratic background entitles him to rule the criminal world?
That is where the season gets particularly interesting.
Eddie already has the confidence of a Duke. Now he has the criminal resources to behave like one.
The surreal dream material makes this even clearer. The show isn’t just showing Eddie’s actions anymore; it’s showing us the fantasy behind them. The desire isn’t merely to survive. Eddie increasingly wants complete control.
And honestly, that is much more disturbing than another shootout.
Could Eddie Actually Become the Main Villain?
This is where Season 2 leaves the door wide open.
There are plenty of reasons to believe Eddie could eventually become the character everyone else has to stop. His ambitions are expanding, his tolerance for betrayal is shrinking, and he has demonstrated that he can make brutal decisions without the moral hesitation we saw earlier.
But I don’t think calling him a straightforward villain yet works.
That’s what makes him fun.
| What Makes Eddie Look Villainous | What Still Keeps Him Human |
|---|---|
| Increasing obsession with power | Loyalty to his family |
| Willingness to manipulate allies | Pragmatic rather than purely sadistic decisions |
| Growing appetite for expansion | Remaining emotional connection to Susie |
| Increasingly ruthless solutions | A personal code that still influences his choices |
The Biggest Problem With Making Eddie a Villain
There is one thing I would hate to see in Season 3: Eddie suddenly becoming evil just because the story needs a big bad guy.
That would completely undermine what makes his transformation compelling.
Eddie works because his descent feels gradual. He’s not waking up one morning thinking, ‘I shall now become the villain.’ He’s making one practical decision after another. He keeps telling himself that he’s protecting his family, securing his position or preventing someone else from taking control.
That’s much more believable.
If Season 3 turns Eddie into a cartoon psychopath who kills everyone simply because he’s supposed to be the final boss, I’ll be disappointed. The interesting version of Eddie is the one who still thinks he’s the reasonable person in the room.
And Then There’s Susie Glass
The Eddie and Susie relationship remains one of the strongest reasons to keep watching.
They understand each other in a way that most other characters simply can’t. They’re both ambitious, both extremely capable, and both perfectly aware that their partnership could collapse the moment their interests stop lining up.
That’s why I don’t buy the idea that Eddie has completely lost whatever humanity he had. His relationship with Susie still complicates everything. Even when he’s making ruthless decisions, there is a sense that certain people and relationships still matter to him.
The finale’s attitude toward Bobby Glass is particularly revealing. Eddie’s willingness to effectively put the past behind him instead of immediately pursuing revenge suggests that he’s not motivated by bloodlust.
He’s motivated by control.
And strangely enough, that might be worse.
What Season 3 Needs to Do With Eddie
With The Gentlemen Season 3 already moving forward, the writers have a fantastic opportunity. They don’t need to rush Eddie into becoming an obvious villain. They should let the consequences of Season 2 do the work.
I want to see what happens when Eddie’s ambitions finally collide with Susie’s interests. I want to know how much Bobby Glass can tolerate. And most of all, I want Eddie to be forced into a situation where protecting his empire directly conflicts with protecting the people he still claims to care about.
That’s where the character can really break.
Because Eddie’s greatest weakness isn’t his lack of morality. It’s the fact that he still believes he has morality.
The Duke We Met in Season 1 Is Gone
That’s ultimately what I took away from The Gentlemen Season 2.
Eddie Horniman started this story as a reluctant aristocrat desperately trying to escape a criminal inheritance. Now he’s becoming the kind of man who can look at the same criminal empire and see an opportunity.
That doesn’t automatically make him the ultimate villain. Not yet.
But it does make him something far more interesting: a protagonist who is slowly becoming impossible to separate from the world he once hated.
And if Season 3 has the nerve to follow that transformation all the way to its ugliest destination, Eddie could end up being the most dangerous man in The Gentlemen without ever thinking of himself as the bad guy.
That’s the Eddie Horniman I want to see. Not a cartoon villain. Not another gangster with a fancy suit. A man who keeps making perfectly logical decisions until he finally realizes there is almost nothing left of the person who originally made them.
The first season asked whether Eddie could survive the criminal world. Season 2 asks what that survival is turning him into. I’m far more interested in the second question.
