When I first heard about the BBC’s new crime drama Mint, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Another gangster romance? Really? But then I dug deeper, and what I found was far more intriguing than the typical ‘star-crossed lovers in a dangerous world’ trope. Personally, I think what makes Mint stand out is its willingness to blend genres in a way that feels both familiar and refreshingly new. It’s not just a crime drama or a romance—it’s a deep dive into the emotional complexities of a family caught in the crossfire of their own legacy.
One thing that immediately stands out is the setting. Scotland, with its rugged landscapes and tight-knit communities, provides the perfect backdrop for this story. It’s not just a location; it’s a character in its own right. What many people don’t realize is how much the setting influences the tone of a show. In Mint, the atmospheric, almost haunting beauty of Scotland amplifies the tension and the romance, creating a sense of inevitability that’s hard to shake.
The story centers around Shannon, a 22-year-old woman who falls for Arran, a member of a rival crime family. On the surface, it’s a classic Romeo and Juliet setup. But what this really suggests is a deeper exploration of loyalty, identity, and the weight of familial expectations. Shannon isn’t just a romantic lead; she’s a woman grappling with her place in a world that’s been defined for her. From my perspective, this is where Mint shines—it’s not afraid to slow down and focus on the emotional worlds of its characters, rather than just the action.
A detail that I find especially interesting is the family dynamics. Shannon’s father, Dylan, steps down as the head of the family for mysterious reasons, leaving a power vacuum that his second-in-command, Sam, is all too eager to fill. This raises a deeper question: What happens when the rules of the game change, and the people you trust most are the ones you should fear? It’s a psychological thriller masquerading as a crime drama, and I’m here for it.
The cast, too, is worth mentioning. Emma Laird as Shannon is mesmerizing—she captures the character’s vulnerability and strength in equal measure. And Ben Coyle-Larner (aka Loyle Carner) as Arran? His performance is raw and compelling, a perfect counterpoint to Laird’s intensity. What makes this particularly fascinating is how the actors bring these characters to life in a way that feels authentic, not just performative.
Critics have praised the show, with The Guardian calling it ‘the most outrageously beautiful TV show since Twin Peaks.’ While I’m not sure I’d go that far, I do think the cinematography is stunning. It’s stylish without being pretentious, and it adds a layer of depth to the storytelling. If you take a step back and think about it, this is what elevates Mint from a good show to a great one—its ability to balance substance and style.
But here’s the thing: Mint isn’t for everyone. If you’re looking for non-stop action and high-stakes heists, you might be disappointed. This is a show that takes its time, focusing on the emotional fallout of its characters’ choices. In my opinion, that’s what makes it so compelling. It’s a reminder that even in the most dangerous worlds, it’s the human connections that matter most.
As I reflect on Mint, I can’t help but think about the broader trends in television. We’re living in a golden age of crime dramas, but so many of them rely on the same old formulas. Mint dares to be different, and that’s what makes it worth watching. It’s not just a show—it’s a conversation starter, a piece of art that invites you to think, feel, and question.
So, should you watch Mint? Personally, I think it’s a must-see. It’s a show that challenges your expectations, lingers in your mind long after the credits roll, and leaves you eager for more. In a world where so much content feels disposable, Mint is a rare gem—a story that’s as beautiful as it is heartbreaking, as thought-provoking as it is entertaining.
