Tommy Shelby Rides Again: Peaky Blinders’ Movie Ignites Old Feuds and New Legends

Olivia Bennett, 12/25/2025The highly-anticipated "Peaky Blinders: The Immortal Man" revives the legendary Thomas Shelby as he faces war and family turmoil in 1940 Birmingham. With a stellar cast and a gripping narrative, the film promises to explore the themes of redemption and ruin as Shelby navigates his tumultuous legacy.

The Shelby grip, as it turns out, hasn't loosened a bit. Cillian Murphy—who, at this point, probably dreams in moody slow-motion close-ups—slides back into his signature role with a familiarity that's less like returning to an old coat and more like slipping on a suit of chainmail. That sense of battle-weariness, the world’s weight hanging off those razor-sharp cheekbones, is instantly back. Tommy Shelby was last glimpsed atop a ghostly white horse, dissolving into the English fogs at the dusk of the show’s sixth season. People whispered, half-believing, maybe he was gone for good. But—come on—what’s a little trauma, guilt, or wartime carnage to a Shelby? History has always known these men by the damage they inflict and the scars left behind.

This time, Steven Knight teams up with Tom Harper, whose track record conjures a kind of musicality out of shadows. On paper, "The Immortal Man" reads as if British casting royalty suddenly decided to throw the world’s fanciest family reunion — Rebecca Ferguson, Tim Roth, Barry Keoghan (fresh from gleefully burning up every screen he touches with a hint of madness), all saddling up alongside the regulars. Even Stephen Graham, already a thunderclap in a flat cap, is back to rattle the walls.

One can almost hear Knight, utterly sincere and perhaps only half joking, crowing about the "best British actors all in one place." Hyperbole? Maybe, but looking at that lineup, it's tempting to give him the point. Keoghan, that wonderful wildcard, claims he read the script and just loved it—as if there was a universe in which he wouldn’t. But if anyone knows how to sniff out the heart of a gorgeous mess, it’s Keoghan.

Netflix, keen to keep one foot in both old glamour and new algorithms, will treat the film to the kind of limited theatrical release that’s almost quaint now—March 6, 2026, penciled in for the proper spectacle before the streaming hordes descend. There's something charmingly ceremonial about it, like dusting off the good silverware one last time before the future eats everything in plastic.

Narrative-wise, no one's expecting sunshine and scones. Set in 1940, with the war snarling at the city’s doors, Tommy Shelby is called back from exile—self-imposed, naturally, because what’s a Shelby without a little self-flagellation? The family’s future seems to hang by a thread; the country’s not faring much better. So Shelby, ever the gambler, faces a choice: bear the ruin he’s built, or light it up and let history choke on the ashes. The film leans in to the sense that, for people like Tommy, peace is never more than theoretical.

The trailer plays coy—a swirl of shadows, steel, and those ice-water blue eyes defying anyone to break his gaze. There’s an ache to the few frames that flicker by, a breathless hesitation, like watching someone walk on broken glass and realizing they’ve been doing it for years. For those who followed Tommy through the shell-shock of World War I, through betrayals nastier than any ration shortage, it looks as though “The Immortal Man” aims to unearth every unresolved sin.

It’s hard to ignore just how thoroughly “Peaky Blinders” rewrote the rules for prestige period crime drama. Those peaked caps, those tailored obsidian suits, the cigarettes that hang from lips as punctuation. All of it stitched itself into the fabric of how we picture a certain kind of British cool. The BAFTAs, Netflix’s relentless stream queues—none of it quite captured the show’s real pull: that electric tension between operatic brutality and private, sometimes pitiful, struggle.

But scaling up to a feature—well, it’s not always easy. What made the series buzz was the way it could sweep from the clang of a factory floor to the hush of a confessional with a single piano note. A film risks tipping too far into spectacle—but then again, no one ever became a legend by playing small. The first glimpses suggest the creative team isn’t about to settle for easy nostalgia. There’s a chill in the air. This is a reckoning, not just a reunion.

Press blurbs tease at redemption; anyone who's been to this dance before knows ruin’s always at arm’s reach. "With the future of the family and the country at stake," they intone, as if the Shelby’s domestic spats haven’t already threatened the very notion of Britain itself a dozen times over. Yet, that’s the trick, the thing that made the show addicting on Thursdays (remember when appointment TV meant something?): every escapade feels like it could finally topple the tottering house of cards.

March 2026—just months away now, whether time feels real or not—promises a return to those Brummie streets, the ones that always seem a bit frostbitten regardless of the season. Viewers, old and new, will follow Tommy Shelby through another storm. He’s hardly the sort to fade gently, after all. In a universe built on smoke and bravado, a true Shelby only goes out in a blaze.

So, as the teaser fades, it's less a call to arms than a tip of the cap. The legend isn’t cooling; it’s poised to ignite all over again.

Strolling through Birmingham in winter, with its streets slicked in a greasy kind of frost, you'd hardly expect to find the marrow of a legend lurking beneath. Yet that is precisely the spell cast—again—by Netflix’s first trailer for "Peaky Blinders: The Immortal Man." Somehow, among all this chilly industrial gloom, there's a weirdly seductive shine—like the glint of danger winking from every snowbanks' edge. Maybe it’s the legacy of Thomas Shelby himself, refusing to let the city, or its audience, doze off peacefully.The Shelby grip, as it turns out, hasn't loosened a bit. Cillian Murphy—who, at this point, probably dreams in moody slow-motion close-ups—slides back into his signature role with a familiarity that's less like returning to an old coat and more like slipping on a suit of chainmail. That sense of battle-weariness, the world’s weight hanging off those razor-sharp cheekbones, is instantly back. Tommy Shelby was last glimpsed atop a ghostly white horse, dissolving into the English fogs at the dusk of the show’s sixth season. People whispered, half-believing, maybe he was gone for good. But—come on—what’s a little trauma, guilt, or wartime carnage to a Shelby? History has always known these men by the damage they inflict and the scars left behind.This time, Steven Knight teams up with Tom Harper, whose track record conjures a kind of musicality out of shadows. On paper, "The Immortal Man" reads as if British casting royalty suddenly decided to throw the world’s fanciest family reunion — Rebecca Ferguson, Tim Roth, Barry Keoghan (fresh from gleefully burning up every screen he touches with a hint of madness), all saddling up alongside the regulars. Even Stephen Graham, already a thunderclap in a flat cap, is back to rattle the walls.One can almost hear Knight, utterly sincere and perhaps only half joking, crowing about the "best British actors all in one place." Hyperbole? Maybe, but looking at that lineup, it's tempting to give him the point. Keoghan, that wonderful wildcard, claims he read the script and just loved it—as if there was a universe in which he wouldn’t. But if anyone knows how to sniff out the heart of a gorgeous mess, it’s Keoghan.Netflix, keen to keep one foot in both old glamour and new algorithms, will treat the film to the kind of limited theatrical release that’s almost quaint now—March 6, 2026, penciled in for the proper spectacle before the streaming hordes descend. There's something charmingly ceremonial about it, like dusting off the good silverware one last time before the future eats everything in plastic.Narrative-wise, no one's expecting sunshine and scones. Set in 1940, with the war snarling at the city’s doors, Tommy Shelby is called back from exile—self-imposed, naturally, because what’s a Shelby without a little self-flagellation? The family’s future seems to hang by a thread; the country’s not faring much better. So Shelby, ever the gambler, faces a choice: bear the ruin he’s built, or light it up and let history choke on the ashes. The film leans in to the sense that, for people like Tommy, peace is never more than theoretical.The trailer plays coy—a swirl of shadows, steel, and those ice-water blue eyes defying anyone to break his gaze. There’s an ache to the few frames that flicker by, a breathless hesitation, like watching someone walk on broken glass and realizing they’ve been doing it for years. For those who followed Tommy through the shell-shock of World War I, through betrayals nastier than any ration shortage, it looks as though “The Immortal Man” aims to unearth every unresolved sin.It’s hard to ignore just how thoroughly “Peaky Blinders” rewrote the rules for prestige period crime drama. Those peaked caps, those tailored obsidian suits, the cigarettes that hang from lips as punctuation. All of it stitched itself into the fabric of how we picture a certain kind of British cool. The BAFTAs, Netflix’s relentless stream queues—none of it quite captured the show’s real pull: that electric tension between operatic brutality and private, sometimes pitiful, struggle.But scaling up to a feature—well, it’s not always easy. What made the series buzz was the way it could sweep from the clang of a factory floor to the hush of a confessional with a single piano note. A film risks tipping too far into spectacle—but then again, no one ever became a legend by playing small. The first glimpses suggest the creative team isn’t about to settle for easy nostalgia. There’s a chill in the air. This is a reckoning, not just a reunion.Press blurbs tease at redemption; anyone who's been to this dance before knows ruin’s always at arm’s reach. "With the future of the family and the country at stake," they intone, as if the Shelby’s domestic spats haven’t already threatened the very notion of Britain itself a dozen times over. Yet, that’s the trick, the thing that made the show addicting on Thursdays (remember when appointment TV meant something?): every escapade feels like it could finally topple the tottering house of cards.March 2026—just months away now, whether time feels real or not—promises a return to those Brummie streets, the ones that always seem a bit frostbitten regardless of the season. Viewers, old and new, will follow Tommy Shelby through another storm. He’s hardly the sort to fade gently, after all. In a universe built on smoke and bravado, a true Shelby only goes out in a blaze.So, as the teaser fades, it's less a call to arms than a tip of the cap. The legend isn’t cooling; it’s poised to ignite all over again.