I genuinely feel sympathy for Richie Stevenson. How could you not? The day after he laid his son to rest, who was brutally stabbed numerous times and dismembered, he faced the loss of his wife, who perished in an explosion alongside her car in their own driveway. All this anguish has been brought upon him by the Harrigans. Indeed, they even call to boast about it, with first Conrad, then Maeve, and eventually even young Eddie taking turns to brag about the murders and their culpability. In any other context, they would be the villains, and you’d be rooting for the cockney tough guy to set their country house ablaze; when he tells them to “Run,” you’d applaud. But in MobLand, the Harrigans are the main characters, so we’re on their journey now.

Yet, it’s uncertain who’s steering the ship. When Kevin questions his mother about ordering the assassination of Richie’s wife Vron, Conrad takes the fall, or rather claims the credit, instead. However, his knowledge of the operational specifics is vague, and his reasoning — nobody insults “Conrad the Dread One Hundred Fuckin’ Guns Harrigan” without facing consequences — is, as Kevin describes to Harry, reminiscent of “dying empires” and their insane rulers. (Coming soon to a constitutional republic close to you!) It appears more plausible that Conrad discovered the hit only after it happened, but pretended to have orchestrated it to maintain his facade of control in front of his family and troops, preserving the illusion of being in charge. Now, he must, as they say on The Wire, continue living that lie.

While Maeve is relishing her time, the other family women are not faring as well. Taken along with all the Harrigans and brought to Conrad’s countryside estate in the idyllic Cotswolds for protection, Jan and Gina Da Souza exhibit various levels of frustration with Harry. Jan indulges in wine and pills alongside Bella, Kevin’s wife — and Harry’s past lover. There’s undoubtedly an okay, you know that I know that you know dynamic between them, by the way. 

Gina, by contrast, is incandescently furious: Harry yanked her out of an important exam due to all these criminal shenanigans, and it’s the last straw for her. She encourages her mother to simply take her and leave him, since she knows her mom can’t possibly be any happier living like this than she is. Jan dismisses the idea, but she doesn’t confirm that she loves Harry when Gina asks her, either. This leaves her vulnerable to the continuing efforts of undercover cop Emily — while Gina may be vulnerable, in a different way, to the roving eyes and hands of Conrad himself.

As for Harry, he’s sent to Antwerp to tie up a pair of loose ends. Family failson Brendan and his half-sister and unlikely business partner Seraphina are there for their big uncut-gems deal, and they’ve left their phones behind in a safe to avoid being tracked. So they have no idea that the Stevensons and the Harrigans are officially at war, leaving them sitting ducks for Richie’s Mexican allies to take down…once Richie gets their location from Maeve, who hates Conrad’s “bastard” daughter and wants her dead. Brendan, she insists, is to be spared. Okay Maeve, sure, whatever you say!

The jewel deal, a painstakingly negotiated and tense bit of business that plays out over a series of scenes, ends in gunfire. (It’s a clever bit of business, actually doing all that buildup only to knock the whole house of cards over.) Richie’s assassins wipe out every single character the episode introduces for the storyline, then train their guns on the Harrigans, even as Harry races to the site of the shootout on a stolen motorcycle. He can’t possibly get there in time to save them unless some misleading cross-cutting is being done here, but that’s the cliffhanger ending, and it’s 1960s Batman-esque in how charmingly flagrant it is. Will they live or die? Tune in next week to find out!

I certainly will, and happily. MobLand isn’t swinging for the fences or plumbing the depths, but it’s not trying to be The Sopranos and failing, it’s trying to be a show in which a bunch of cool attractive people bark orders or dodge bullets, with Tom Hardy’s deadpan machismo as its center of gravity. It’s easy as pie to assemble a great cast, write a big genre piece for them to perform, and call it a day, counting on familiar beats and familiar faces to carry the project. It’s much harder to do this well. (Does anyone else remember Zero Day?) 

On the big screen, there’s a reason Conclave last year and Sinners this year caught on the way they did: big beautiful costumey pulse-pounding thrillers starring beloved actors that actually work are rarer these days than hen’s teeth. Both of those films are a sight more serious-minded than MobLand has shown itself to be, but the principle remains the same here. There’s a lot of unclaimed territory between tenderloin steak and fast-food franchise crap. Sometimes people just want to eat a goddamn burger. Give it to them!

Sean T. Collins (@theseantcollins) writes about TV for Rolling Stone, Vulture, The New York Times, and anyplace that will have him, really. He and his family live on Long Island.