War … what is it good for? At last, we have an answer: delivering eight hours of high-quality balderdash direct to your TV screens for your glorious delectation. Hurrah!
For War, you see, is the name of George Kay's latest venture. As the creator of, among many other things, two series of the impeccably preposterous Hijack, you know you are in for a rollicking treat. And so it proves with this story of two horrible rich, famous people, divorcing in the public eye and battling it out in court via two teams of even more horrible, rich lawyers with everyone bent on doing as much harm to the other side as possible.
It's a high-stakes drama you don't need to invest in. A wonderful palate-cleanser. Who has any emotions left after a day of news headlines, scrolling and life any more? We need this.
Dominic West plays social media mogul and philanderer Morgan Henderson. I'm not sure West is so much cast in these parts any more as simply manifests in the role as soon as someone writes "wealthy cad" into a script, but his agent must be delighted either way. Sienna Miller plays his film star wife Carla Duval, who, after 10 years, has had enough and – against the advice of her lawyers – has found a legally and morally grey way of gaining leverage over him, involving a hot friend willing to do her a favour and her husband.
War is a "yes – but!" drama. Yes, there is a prenup! It says they both walk away with whatever assets they brought to the marriage. Is this is a problem? Yes, for Carla, whose earnings have lately nosedived. But! Prenups can be set aside if there has been a big enough change of circumstances. Yes, but what constitutes a big enough change in circumstances? Morgan becoming a squidillionaire and the beloved stepdad of Carla's son Gabriel (Aran Murphy)? That oughta do it! But what would be a reasonable settlement in this situation – some millions? Yes, but what about the Manhattan apartment? But what about a monthly stipend?
Morgan retains the services of Cathcarts & Sons, an old-school outfit – offices oak-panelled throughout and Pip Torrens prowling through them as the scheming St John Smallwood, looking for weaknesses in opponents and occasionally snacking on rats and interns. Carla goes with younger, shinier firm Taylor & Byrne, recently created by married couple Serena (Phoebe Fox) and Nick (James McArdle). They are chrome and glass offices and eager new recruit Johnny (Archie Renaux), originally from the mean streets of Peckham and more recently from a prestigious US firm he left under mysterious circumstances, scampers through them.
So, we have money, class warfare, sex and more money. Let the legal and non-legal shenanigans begin! We have the lawyers strategising in seven dimensions. If they do this, will the other side guess that? If they really must abide by this requirement, despite having the most expensive tailoring in the business, how can they make it work for their client? Or against the other? Can they reconstruct a paper trail that will protect them, if not their client, from future liability? What matters more – having the better case or the better lawyers or the better press? Should they stop St John coming into court with a twitching rodent in his bloodied jaws? Or would that play well?
It's massive, massive fun, with a ripped-from-the-headlines feel to it that only adds to the entertainment. Oh, the back-stabbing! Oh, the double-crossings! Oh, the last-minute aversions of disaster! Until the next one!
Kay keeps a firm hand on the tiller, and although War weaves through its intricate plot at speed you never get the sense that things are going to spiral out of control. It's helped by great performances throughout, from the anchors West and Miller – venal but just likable enough, at least before a certain stripping scene involving Morgan, to keep our interest even if they don't need our sympathy – through Torrens' brilliant turn and on to Celia Imrie and Archie Panjabi as the barristers who are eventually instructed to represent the couple, and from everyone else in between. Soap opera with money, talent and plot to burn. What more could you ask at the end of a long, long day?