I’m not sure why a redemptive origin story 

for a woman who skinned spotted dogs

was deemed necessary but Disney 

must have sensed an appetite for it.

When Villanelle brutalises her targets

we half-smile, satisfied. Almost smile 

with her when Eve hacks away

with the axe at the end of season two.

Rule 101: Action must be character-driven. 

Let screens be flat palms that deliver apples 

equal parts sweet and sharp. Let us understand

motivations, untangle lives lived before

the car chase, the explosion, the quivering

embrace, the knife slipped in and under

the rib cage. Complexity enough to muddy

whose impulses are right, whose wrong. 

You slowly expose me to your backstory

in long episodes, uncut. Had you ever 

chosen to pull out a gun, let its opening 

kiss my temple, I’d have likely joined 

the chorus, the imagined audience 

as they whisper: let the bitch have it.