An antidote to self-serious antihero dramas, this zippy saga about filthy-rich white guys offers up some of the most thoughtful trash around
Billions, the labyrinthine drama about a shady hedge-fund investor and the shady district attorney on his tail, is by far and away the smartest dumb show on TV. On the one hand it’s by-the-book Prestige Television, a glossy study of self-destructive antiheroes, moral grey areas and the soul-blackening effects of power. On the other, it offers everything the golden-era box sets didn’t. Billions has no time for the slow-burn and never skimps on surface-level fun, be it the whip-wielding sex workers or chic celebrity cameos. Factor in its exuberant refusal to take itself too seriously, and it’s a show that above all else will keep you entertained. Or to put it another way: the exact opposite of Mad Men.
With its fourth season starting this month and as pulpily addictive as ever, it’s fair to say the writers have pulled off a neat trick. In the post-recession world, drawing breezy entertainment from a story about crooked and decadent financiers is no easy task. On top of that, the male ego is no longer the small-screen goldmine it once was. While a decade or two ago, the wounded psyches of Tony Soprano and co had us making a beeline for the water cooler, audiences have now become wise to privilege, and there’s no escaping the fact that Billions is a show about two filthy-rich white guys and their very expensive game of one-upmanship.
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