Okay, so Luther begins his first scene entirely closed off. Heās leaning back, sunglasses on, speaking only in short, suspicious questions.
But in under two minutes of talking with Ethan, his glasses are off, and heās leaning forward. Still resisting, but engaged. And then, he just lights up.
His sentences elongate, his cadence shifts from clipped to rhythmical, and heās so earnestly delighted, almost in spite of himself, at the prospect of a proper challenge, the chance to exercise his skills and work with new equipment.
Since the murder of Ethanās team, itās the first time anyone on screen has seemed happy. Itās the first time a positive emotion has been expressed without guile or the hope of benefit through deception. Seeing it is like coming up for air.
It feels familiar, too. The way Luther is magnetically drawn to the prospect ofĀ āthe Mount Everest of hacks,ā canāt turn down a real proper challenge, holds echos of the Ethan we glimpse before the losses, the one who responds to being given a challenging role with:Ā āI wouldnāt have it any other way.ā
Ethan must have glimpsed the person he was mere days before, and clung to the memory. More than that, for a man who has no one to trust, discovering that Luther is motivated not by lust for wealth or power but by love, (even love for hacking), must have been unimaginably comforting.
On Lutherās side, well. The only definitive thing we learn about him is that he canāt turn down a challenge. But thatās quite enough to make sense of why he could never sayĀ ānoā to Ethan, staying by him until the love for a challenge was superseded by love for his friend.
