Feels like Karachi

Crime dramas often work best when they feel uncomfortably close to reality, and Netflix’s Legends succeeds precisely because of that. Although set in early 1990s Britain and centreed on undercover customs officers infiltrating heroin networks, the six-episode series feels strangely familiar to audiences in present-day Karachi.

Beneath its British accents, retro soundtrack, and period setting lies a story about drugs, corruption, desperation, and institutions struggling to keep pace with organised crime — themes that continue to dominate headlines in Pakistan’s largest city. And if you add the bureaucratic decisions made to save the government instead of the very people it should serve, you have a common thread linking the two metropolises of England and Pakistan.

At a time when Karachi is gripped by investigations into figures like Anmol Pinki and when concerns about narcotics and criminal networks remain deeply embedded in urban life, Legends becomes more than a stylish crime thriller. It feels like a mirror held up to society, reminding viewers that the problems of the 1990s London underworld are not entirely different from the challenges Pakistan’s largest city faces today.

Told in six tightly written episodes, Legends offers a distinctly British take on the international crime drama. Set in the early 1990s, the series follows a government initiative launched amid a surge in heroin overdoses across Britain. To tackle the growing drug trade, customs officers are recruited and rapidly trained to work undercover within dangerous narcotics syndicates.

The story is loosely inspired by real events and draws from the memoir of former customs officer Guy Stanton, who spent over a decade infiltrating drug operations. In the series, Stanton — played brilliantly by Tom Burke — joins fellow recruits Kate and Bailey under the supervision of veteran operative Don Clarke, portrayed with effortless charm by Steve Coogan.

Unlike conventional procedural dramas that spend episodes explaining systems and protocols, Legends moves at an aggressive pace. The training process takes only minutes, and the narrative quickly plunges viewers into a world where one mistake in maintaining a fake identity — or “legend” — can mean instant death.

What makes the show compelling is not just its cat-and-mouse tension, but its focus on ordinary people stepping into extraordinary situations. The characters are not superheroes; they are flawed individuals seeking purpose as they navigate a world built on lies, violence, and survival.

What makes stand out

Legends deals with a subject that is very much part of our lives, even though many of us might not want to admit that we live in a world where narcotics are freely available. Instead of going overboard with the series’ execution, the makers chose the dependable linear method, where the audience grows with the characters. They know exactly what their motivations are, where they come from, and what flaws they carry, helping the two parties connect in the first half of the pilot episode.

The six episodes are structured so that viewers don’t lose interest at any point. The first-class execution is one of the reasons it stands out, despite not being a typical Hollywood project, lacking star power, and being a period drama. However, that’s the show’s biggest strength: viewers connect with the characters rather than lesser-known actors, and the story matters most, not the contemporary setting.

Yes, the pace could have been tighter, but remember, the show takes place in the early 90s, when only a few people had access to computers, mobile phones, and even the internet. People stayed in touch via payphones, and everything had to be done the analog way, while governments prioritised longevity at the helm over public service.

For some reason, this show reminds me of Hustle, another British series in which a team of con artists takes down the bad apples of society, using their wits rather than their fists. The same thing happens here, but with the support and backing of a government that is itself on the verge of collapse and needs answers instead of closure.

Focus on reality

The biggest difference between the British and Hollywood ways of filmmaking is that the British stay closer to their roots, whereas Hollywood loves going overboard no matter the situation. In the past, the two versions of The Italian Job could easily highlight that difference, but today, Legends gives the audience that reality check.

It could have taken the Fast and the Furious route to success, but it chose to stay grounded and true to the source material. Also, had the series been made in America, sex would have dominated the proceedings for no reason, but thankfully, the story remained in the British Isles, where it was treated with the respect it deserved. It focuses on the drug trade, the men behind it, and those who take them down, all within six one-hour episodes that grab your attention from the very first scene.

Created by Neil Forsyth and directed by Brady Hood and Julian Holmes, the series revolves around six principal characters, each with flaws. While Tom Burke’s Guy becomes the person he is supposed to portray undercover, Hayley Squires’ Kate goes the extra mile to get her man. Aml Ameen’s Bailey makes decisions to benefit the case without considering the consequences, whereas Jasmine Blackbrow’s Erin immerses herself in work.

And then there is Steve Coogan’s Don, who selects them, trains them, and is there at the end of the road for them, because, like him, they all share a common goal -- to dismantle the heroin network that has engulfed Britain. That doesn’t mean they don’t have personal lives, which are highlighted effectively. Even the main antagonist, Tom Hughes’ Carter, is shown to be seeking his mother’s approval, which he doesn’t get until the end because she didn’t agree with his business.

These performances elevate Legends far beyond a standard undercover thriller. Tom Burke brings depth and vulnerability to Guy Stanton, portraying a man who slowly loses himself in the role he plays. Steve Coogan, best known for comedy, delivers one of his strongest performances to date as Don Clarke, balancing dry humour with emotional gravitas.

The supporting cast, including Hayley Squires, Jasmine Blackborow, and Aml Ameen, lends authenticity to a story in which danger constantly lurks beneath everyday conversations. Some of their decisions helped the mission, while many put it in jeopardy. Yet the way these three carried out their tasks without ever breaking character was worth it.

On one hand is Tom Hughes’ Carter, who goes ballistic when threatened, whereas on the other is his right-hand man, Johnny Harris, as Liverpool enforcer Eddie McKee, a gangster who lost a loved one to drugs. One must also commend Douglas Hodge’s Mr Blake, who shows that if the boss is incorruptible, the team will work honestly and with dedication, leading to better outcomes.

The series also benefits from its atmospheric presentation. The soundtrack, featuring bands like The Stone Roses and Happy Mondays, captures the mood of early 1990s Britain perfectly, while the gritty cinematography reinforces the sense of decay surrounding both the criminals and the institutions pursuing them.

Resonance with Karachi

The strongest reason Legends feels relevant to Karachi is that its themes remain painfully universal. The ongoing Anmol Pinki investigation has already exposed how deeply criminal networks can penetrate urban systems, and the series reflects that uncomfortable reality. In Legends, corruption exists at every level — from law enforcement to political circles — making it difficult to distinguish between protectors and exploiters. Karachi residents can easily relate to that atmosphere of distrust.

The show’s focus on drugs also feels especially relevant. Heroin may have been tearing through 1990s London, but narcotics remain just as significant a problem in Karachi today. From elite neighbourhoods to lower-income areas, drugs have become an undeniable social issue, affecting young people and fueling organised crime. Legends does not glamorise this world; instead, it shows how narcotics destroy communities while creating empires for those willing to exploit desperation.

Another striking aspect is the portrayal of systemic corruption. The series repeatedly suggests that institutions alone cannot solve crises when corruption has already weakened the system from within. Karachiites face similar frustrations daily, whether in policing, governance, or civic administration. This realism makes Legends feel less like a historical drama and more like a contemporary commentary.

Most importantly, the series highlights issues without becoming entirely cynical. Beneath the violence and deception lies an argument that individuals still matter — that determined people can challenge powerful criminal structures despite overwhelming odds. That message resonates strongly in Karachi, a city that endures because of the resilience of ordinary citizens.

Some of the scenes were supposedly shot in Istanbul, Karachi, and on the Afghanistan-Pakistan border, giving the series an international look. Wherever they shot the scenes, they all looked as if they were filmed on real locations, even though carrying a compact mobile phone in Karachi before 1992 seemed like a long shot.

Why Legends succeeds

Legends succeeds by combining gripping storytelling with social relevance. It is not merely a nostalgic British crime drama filled with retro music and undercover operations; it is a study of societies grappling with addiction, corruption, and institutional failure. Not only does it celebrate the covert operations known to only a handful of people, but it also honors the men and women who chose to serve their country anonymously, simply because they wanted a better future for their children.

For viewers in Karachi, the parallels are hard to ignore. Whether it is the rise of narcotics, the influence of criminal networks, or the public’s struggle to trust institutions, Legends echoes realities that remain deeply familiar today. Perhaps that is what makes the series so compelling — despite being set thousands of miles away and decades in the past, it feels remarkably close to home.

The writer is a freelance contributor who writes about film, television, and popular culture

All facts and information are the sole responsibility of the writer