Colin Firth and Jack Lowden Light Up Weimar Berlin in Apple TV’s Noir Gamble

Max Sterling, 2/10/2026Colin Firth and Jack Lowden star in Apple TV's gripping adaptation of Philip Kerr's Berlin Noir, set in the electric atmosphere of Weimar Berlin. With a haunting backdrop of cultural revolution, the series promises a blend of noir intrigue and historical depth as detectives navigate a city on the brink.

Oscar-winner Colin Firth—who’s managed to slip out of Mr. Darcy’s soggy trousers and into a dozen more complicated suits—steps onto the Berlin cobblestones for an as-yet-untitled series, adapted from Philip Kerr’s Berlin Noir novels. This isn’t Firth’s first tango with shadowy intrigue, nor is it the first time he’s joined forces with Peter Straughan, wordsmith behind 2011’s Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, a film that lured an entire generation of Brit-lit fans back into the velvety nightmare of Cold War espionage. Only, this time, the drizzle scrubbed from London is swapped for Berlin’s decadent, electric drift—where jazz and fascism criss-cross in the air thicker than the city’s famous currywurst smoke.

It’s Firth as Paul Lohser—a murder detective described by Deadline as “brilliant but prickly,” equal parts obsessive and icy. He’s paired up, oil-and-water style, with Bernie Gunther, played by Jack Lowden (whose quietly magnetic turn in Slow Horses no doubt nudged him onto Apple’s shortlist). Gunther, in this retelling, is greener—recently minted, perhaps even a bit naive—which makes the pairing textbook noir: Lohser, the clinical mentor with too many secrets under his trilby, and Gunther, the fish-out-of-water who might just drown. The setup practically begs for a mismatched-buddy dynamic, but the logline hints at something with sharper teeth: a serial killer is stalking Berlin’s fringes, and with the Nazis still a distant nightmare, the only certainty is that the city will do nothing in half-measures.

Now, let’s not sell this one short by calling it another “police drama,” as if we’re lumping it in with the faded re-runs clogging late-night satellite channels. Weimar Berlin, as depicted here, is a character in its own right—a city teetering between decadence and oblivion, jazz and jackboots. Those who’ve lost weekends to Babylon Berlin can picture the shimmer and dread, but Kerr’s novels have a blunter edge. His Berlin isn’t just sexy or wild—it’s a place where every ethical line is blurred, and nothing is ever entirely safe. Gunther, in this world, doesn’t chase truth for glory, but as a form of desperate self-preservation. Never mind the serial killer; the city itself is perpetually two drinks past last call, in danger of collapsing before breakfast.

Apple TV, for its part, seems addicted to importing literary angst. The comparisons to Slow Horses aren’t idle: both shows prowl the same dark alleys, only in Berlin, the ghosts are even louder. The formula—an intoxicating mix of wounded detectives, period-perfect grime, and enough existential threat to keep even the hardiest viewer glancing at the shadows—has paid dividends for Apple’s streaming ambitions. Bringing in Straughan, no stranger to either emotional complexity or well-cut trench coats, gives the series another layer—think of it as stacking velvet on top of steel.

Behind the camera, director Tom Shankland oversees an enviable roster of producers. Bad Wolf, the team from His Dark Materials, takes lead, but the real curveball is Tom Hanks and Gary Goetzman’s PlayTone getting their fingerprints on Berlin’s peeling wallpaper. Hanks, who seems physically incapable of walking past a prestige miniseries without at least peeking inside, joins a small crowd of exec producers, including Jane Tranter and Dan McCulloch. There’s little fear here of the show devolving into lazy historical cosplay—Kerr’s widow, Jane Thynne, is consulting, keeping everyone’s feet on the period-accurate cobblestones.

The stakes, naturally, are enormous. Apple TV has made a habit (some say a compulsion) of courting “big read” adaptations: Foundation turned Asimov into post-Snyder visual soup; Silo and Dark Matter have both flirted with golden-age sci-fi melancholy. This Berlin venture—if it sticks the landing—could become prestige pulp’s new gold standard, with a potential adaptation runway as long as the U-Bahn. Fourteen books suggest that Gunther’s future may be as sprawling and unpredictable as the city itself, loyally chronicled for subscribers who like their mysteries with a side of historical doom.

Let’s not breeze past Firth’s own genre-hopping schedule: he’s sworn to appear in everything from Guy Ritchie’s Young Sherlock for Prime Video to Spielberg’s upcoming UFO project Disclosure (one hopes for at least a single flying saucer mistaken for avant-garde cabaret art). Plus, a swing back to Kingsman’s sharply tailored chaos in The Blue Bloods. Call it a calculated risk—he brings a world-weary intelligence, a certain simmering exasperation that might just ground Berlin Noir’s heady swirl of glamour and grime.

In a field awash with cookie-cutter whodunits and the tired sepia-wash of “prestige drama,” this Apple TV adaptation feels different. It’s gambling on style over formula, substance over shock, and the unsettling pleasure of watching flawed detectives chase answers through fog thick enough to hide a decade. Odds are, Berlin’s old ghosts are about to become appointment viewing again. Betting against them? Here, as ever, the house isn’t just watching—it’s already cashing in.

There’s something about Berlin. Not the buzzy, beer-garden hipster Berlin of 2025—so commonly immortalized by students on gap years or TikTok influencers in search of the next viral mural—but the Berlin of legend, the haunted, hungry city between two world wars. Where Marlene Dietrich might lock eyes with a stranger under smoky cabaret lamps, and the city’s shadows bred both cultural revolutionaries and monsters in equal measure. Apple TV has chosen this nervous, extravagant moment as the backdrop for its latest high-stakes drama, and from the first whispers, the project reads less like a procedural and more like history’s fever dream.Oscar-winner Colin Firth—who’s managed to slip out of Mr. Darcy’s soggy trousers and into a dozen more complicated suits—steps onto the Berlin cobblestones for an as-yet-untitled series, adapted from Philip Kerr’s Berlin Noir novels. This isn’t Firth’s first tango with shadowy intrigue, nor is it the first time he’s joined forces with Peter Straughan, wordsmith behind 2011’s Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, a film that lured an entire generation of Brit-lit fans back into the velvety nightmare of Cold War espionage. Only, this time, the drizzle scrubbed from London is swapped for Berlin’s decadent, electric drift—where jazz and fascism criss-cross in the air thicker than the city’s famous currywurst smoke.It’s Firth as Paul Lohser—a murder detective described by Deadline as “brilliant but prickly,” equal parts obsessive and icy. He’s paired up, oil-and-water style, with Bernie Gunther, played by Jack Lowden (whose quietly magnetic turn in Slow Horses no doubt nudged him onto Apple’s shortlist). Gunther, in this retelling, is greener—recently minted, perhaps even a bit naive—which makes the pairing textbook noir: Lohser, the clinical mentor with too many secrets under his trilby, and Gunther, the fish-out-of-water who might just drown. The setup practically begs for a mismatched-buddy dynamic, but the logline hints at something with sharper teeth: a serial killer is stalking Berlin’s fringes, and with the Nazis still a distant nightmare, the only certainty is that the city will do nothing in half-measures.Now, let’s not sell this one short by calling it another “police drama,” as if we’re lumping it in with the faded re-runs clogging late-night satellite channels. Weimar Berlin, as depicted here, is a character in its own right—a city teetering between decadence and oblivion, jazz and jackboots. Those who’ve lost weekends to Babylon Berlin can picture the shimmer and dread, but Kerr’s novels have a blunter edge. His Berlin isn’t just sexy or wild—it’s a place where every ethical line is blurred, and nothing is ever entirely safe. Gunther, in this world, doesn’t chase truth for glory, but as a form of desperate self-preservation. Never mind the serial killer; the city itself is perpetually two drinks past last call, in danger of collapsing before breakfast.Apple TV, for its part, seems addicted to importing literary angst. The comparisons to Slow Horses aren’t idle: both shows prowl the same dark alleys, only in Berlin, the ghosts are even louder. The formula—an intoxicating mix of wounded detectives, period-perfect grime, and enough existential threat to keep even the hardiest viewer glancing at the shadows—has paid dividends for Apple’s streaming ambitions. Bringing in Straughan, no stranger to either emotional complexity or well-cut trench coats, gives the series another layer—think of it as stacking velvet on top of steel.Behind the camera, director Tom Shankland oversees an enviable roster of producers. Bad Wolf, the team from His Dark Materials, takes lead, but the real curveball is Tom Hanks and Gary Goetzman’s PlayTone getting their fingerprints on Berlin’s peeling wallpaper. Hanks, who seems physically incapable of walking past a prestige miniseries without at least peeking inside, joins a small crowd of exec producers, including Jane Tranter and Dan McCulloch. There’s little fear here of the show devolving into lazy historical cosplay—Kerr’s widow, Jane Thynne, is consulting, keeping everyone’s feet on the period-accurate cobblestones.The stakes, naturally, are enormous. Apple TV has made a habit (some say a compulsion) of courting “big read” adaptations: Foundation turned Asimov into post-Snyder visual soup; Silo and Dark Matter have both flirted with golden-age sci-fi melancholy. This Berlin venture—if it sticks the landing—could become prestige pulp’s new gold standard, with a potential adaptation runway as long as the U-Bahn. Fourteen books suggest that Gunther’s future may be as sprawling and unpredictable as the city itself, loyally chronicled for subscribers who like their mysteries with a side of historical doom.Let’s not breeze past Firth’s own genre-hopping schedule: he’s sworn to appear in everything from Guy Ritchie’s Young Sherlock for Prime Video to Spielberg’s upcoming UFO project Disclosure (one hopes for at least a single flying saucer mistaken for avant-garde cabaret art). Plus, a swing back to Kingsman’s sharply tailored chaos in The Blue Bloods. Call it a calculated risk—he brings a world-weary intelligence, a certain simmering exasperation that might just ground Berlin Noir’s heady swirl of glamour and grime.In a field awash with cookie-cutter whodunits and the tired sepia-wash of “prestige drama,” this Apple TV adaptation feels different. It’s gambling on style over formula, substance over shock, and the unsettling pleasure of watching flawed detectives chase answers through fog thick enough to hide a decade. Odds are, Berlin’s old ghosts are about to become appointment viewing again. Betting against them? Here, as ever, the house isn’t just watching—it’s already cashing in.