Whitechapel is a mess. By the time we get to Ripper Street Season 3, the Victorian grime isn't just on the walls—it’s soaked into the skin of every character we actually care about. If you watched the first two seasons, you know the drill: Inspector Edmund Reid, the brooding Bennet Drake, and the chaotic Captain Homer Jackson trying to keep a lid on a boiling pot of East End crime. But something shifted here. It wasn't just another procedural. This season felt like the show finally figured out that the biggest monsters weren't the ones hiding in the shadows of Leman Street, but the ones sitting across the dinner table.
Honestly, the stakes changed. The show survived a literal near-death experience when the BBC originally cancelled it after Season 2, only for Amazon to swoop in and save it. That "resurrection" energy is all over these eight episodes. It’s bleaker. It’s faster. The scale is just... bigger.
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The Train Crash That Changed Everything
You can't talk about Ripper Street Season 3 without talking about the Leman Street locomotive disaster. Most shows would spend three episodes building up to a tragedy like that. Not this one. It hits you like a freight train—pun intended—right in the opening episode "Whitechapel Terminus."
The visuals were staggering for a TV budget in 2014. We aren't just looking at some CGI smoke. We’re looking at the physical and psychological wreckage of a community. It serves as this massive, violent catalyst that forces Reid, Drake, and Jackson back into the same orbit after they’d spent years drifting apart.
Drake had gone to Manchester to find some semblance of peace. Jackson was basically a drunkard in a shed. Reid? Well, Reid was buried in his "dead room," obsessing over filing systems and the cold reality of a city that refused to be tamed. The crash wasn't just a plot point; it was a metaphorical "wake up" call. It forced these men to look at what they’d become. The carnage of the wreck reflected the internal carnage of their own lives.
Bennet Drake and the Evolution of a Muscle Man
Jerome Flynn is incredible. We all know him as Bronn from Game of Thrones, but Bennet Drake is a completely different beast. In Ripper Street Season 3, Drake isn't just the "heavy" anymore. He’s the moral center of a show that is rapidly losing its morality.
His return to London is reluctant. He’s seen what life can be like outside the fog of Whitechapel, and coming back feels like a prison sentence. The dynamic between him and Reid (Matthew Macfadyen) takes a sharp turn. Reid is becoming more obsessive, more detached, and frankly, more dangerous. Drake is the one holding onto his humanity with both hands.
There’s this specific nuance in Flynn’s performance where you see the exhaustion in his eyes. He isn't just tired of catching criminals; he’s tired of the cost. The season digs deep into his relationship with Rose Erskine, which remains one of the most heartbreakingly "real" romances in period television. No fairy tales here. Just two broken people trying to figure out if they can be whole together.
The Looming Shadow of Susan Hart
Myrna-May Kelly as "Long" Susan Hart is arguably the MVP of the season. She’s no longer just the madam of a brothel or Jackson’s complicated wife. She’s an industrialist. She’s a philanthropist. She’s also, quite literally, a mass murderer.
The complexity of Susan’s arc in Ripper Street Season 3 is what elevates the writing. You want to hate her for the train crash—because, let’s be clear, it was her ambition and the corruption of her solicitor, Ronald Capshaw, that caused it—but the show won't let you. She thinks she’s doing the right thing. She thinks she’s building a better Whitechapel by any means necessary.
It’s a classic "ends justify the means" trope, but played with such desperate, feminine rage that it feels fresh. Watching her navigate a world of men who either want to control her or hang her provides the season's best tension. Jackson is caught in the middle, and Adam Rothenberg plays that conflict perfectly. He’s a man who loves a woman he knows is a monster. That’s a heavy vibe to carry for eight hours of television.
Historical Realism vs. Victorian Fantasy
A lot of people think Ripper Street is about Jack the Ripper. It’s not. He’s a ghost. He’s a memory. By the time Ripper Street Season 3 rolls around, it’s 1894. The world is changing.
The show does this amazing job of weaving in actual history without feeling like a dry textbook. We see the rise of the "New Woman." We see the encroaching influence of the telegraph and better forensic science. But we also see the stagnant poverty.
The series creator, Richard Warlow, didn't shy away from the fact that the police were often just as corrupt as the people they were chasing. This season leans into the idea of "The Obsidian" and the hidden layers of London's power structures. It isn't just about a guy with a knife in a dark alley; it’s about a guy with a pen in a well-lit office signing away lives for profit.
Why the Dialogue Sounds So... Weird (And Why It Works)
If you’ve watched five minutes of the show, you noticed the language. It’s dense. It’s flowery. It’s rhythmic.
- "The world turns, and we are but the grit in its gears."
- "Your heart is a leaden weight, Edmund."
People didn't actually talk like this in 1894. Not exactly. But the script uses this "Victorian-plus" dialect to create a sense of weight. In Ripper Street Season 3, this language becomes a shield. The characters use these big, booming words to hide how terrified they are. Reid, especially, uses his intellect and his vocabulary as a wall. When that wall finally starts to crumble towards the end of the season—particularly in the finale "The Peace of Eden"—it’s devastating.
The Reckoning of Edmund Reid
Matthew Macfadyen is a master of the "repressed man." Long before he was Tom Wambsgans in Succession, he was Edmund Reid. In this season, Reid’s obsession with his lost daughter, Matilda, finally comes to a head.
I won't spoil the exact beats for those who haven't finished it, but the search for Matilda isn't a subplot. It’s the soul of the season. It’s what drives Reid to the brink of insanity. You see him alienating his friends, breaking the law, and losing his grip on the very justice system he swore to uphold.
There’s a scene where he’s just sitting in his office, surrounded by files, and you realize he’s a man who has replaced his heart with an archive. It’s a haunting portrayal of grief. Season 3 asks the question: what happens to a "good man" when he realizes that being good doesn't save the people he loves?
The Production Value Jump
Moving to Amazon Prime (it was a co-production with BBC) clearly gave the show a cash injection. The sets look more lived-in. The lighting is more atmospheric—lots of high-contrast blacks and sickly yellows that make you feel the smog.
The gore also got a bit more "real." Since it wasn't restricted by standard BBC One primetime slots during its initial streaming run, the medical scenes with Jackson were more visceral. It added to the sense of danger. You felt the coldness of the steel instruments and the dampness of the morgue.
What Most People Get Wrong About Season 3
Many viewers think this season is where the show "lost the plot" because it moved away from the "villain of the week" format. I’d argue the opposite.
The serialized nature of Season 3 is why it’s the best one. Instead of catching a random poisoner or a street gang every 50 minutes, we’re watching a slow-motion car crash—or train crash—that lasts the entire year. It’s more of a novel than a comic book.
If you’re looking for a light detective romp, this isn't it. This is a Greek tragedy set in a London slum.
How to Actually Watch It Today
If you’re diving back in, don't just binge it in the background. Ripper Street Season 3 demands your attention because the clues for the finale are buried in the background of the very first episode.
- Watch the extended cuts. The Amazon versions are often longer than what aired on traditional TV later.
- Pay attention to the background characters. The show is famous for bringing back minor figures from Season 1 and 2 in ways that actually matter.
- Listen to the score. Dominik Scherrer’s music is literally the heartbeat of the show. It’s discordant, folk-inspired, and incredibly tense.
The season ends on a note that feels final, yet leaves you wanting more. It’s a rare feat in television. It settled the scores that needed settling while leaving the characters in a place where they finally had to face their own reflections.
Whitechapel hasn't changed, but the men of Leman Street certainly have. They aren't the heroes they thought they were. They’re just survivors. And in the world of Ripper Street, survival is the only victory you're ever going to get.
Actionable Next Steps
If you're looking to experience the full weight of this season, start by re-watching the Season 2 finale to refresh your memory on the state of the Reid/Jackson/Drake triangle. Then, look for the "Amazon Original" version of Season 3 to ensure you're getting the full, unedited runtime of each episode. For those interested in the real history, researching the "Great Eastern Railway" and the actual police procedures of the 1890s will provide a fascinating layer of context to Susan Hart's business dealings and Reid's forensic obsessions.