The Split

From the very first episode of The Split, you know you’re in for something smarter and more emotionally honest than your average legal drama. Over three series and a beautifully judged two-part finale in 2024, Abi Morgan’s writing never wavers. It’s sharp, layered, and deeply human. Yes, it’s about lawyers. But really, it’s about the ties that bind us; family, marriage, sisterhood, and what happens when all that starts to unravel.

At the heart of the story is Hannah Stern, played by Nicola Walker in what must surely be one of the finest performances on British television in recent years. Hannah is brilliant at managing other people’s divorces; calm, professional, endlessly empathetic, but her own life is quietly falling apart. Walker plays her with incredible restraint; she never overdoes it, yet you can see the emotional weight in every look, every pause. It’s compelling stuff.

The first series sets everything in motion with Hannah having broken away from the family law firm, Defoe’s, to work for a rival practice, a decision that stirs up no end of tension, especially with her formidable mother, Ruth (Deborah Findlay), and fiery sister, Nina (Annabel Sholey). Hannah’s first case for the firm is to represent Goldie (Meera Syal), whose wealthy husband (Stephen Tompkinson) surprised her with divorce proceedings, and then with the revelation that ten years ago, he’d fathered another child with her best friend.

When the Defoe girls’ estranged father (Anthony Head) reappears after 30 years, and old wounds begin to reopen. What’s clever is how these family dramas are echoed in the legal cases, each one acting as a mirror to the Defoe’s’ own messy lives. The show doesn’t use courtrooms just for drama; it uses them to peel back layers of its characters’ emotional lives.

Nina’s journey is marked by her chaotic energy and struggle with addiction, which brings a raw, unfiltered edge to the show. Meanwhile, Rose (Fiona Button), the youngest Defoe sister, follows her own path, one marked by heartbreak and resilience. After suffering a miscarriage, Rose navigates her grief with a mix of vulnerability and strength. Her relationship with her husband, James (Rudi Dharmalingam), is tested, but they try to work through their pain together. But further tragedy is about to befall them just as the couple are discussing plans to adopt children. The moment is devastating, both for Rose and the audience. Rose is left shattered, and her journey forward becomes one of quiet perseverance.

Episode 4 of The Split is a pivotal episode that accelerates the blurring of personal and professional boundaries. The plot revolves around the high-stakes fallout from a data breach: an illicit dating website is hacked, exposing the private details of its members. The breach becomes a legal and moral minefield, especially for Hannah, who is tasked with handling the resulting cases, each more explosive than the last. The leak exposes a wide range of clients, many of them public figures or individuals with high social standing, revealing their extramarital affairs, secret desires, and carefully hidden online lives. Hannah finds herself at the epicentre of the crisis, managing both the legal ramifications and the emotional turmoil that follows.

This case isn’t just another file on Hannah’s desk; it’s a powder keg that forces her to confront the messy realities of human relationships. With each client, she is confronted with different faces of betrayal, some are remorseful, others defensive, and some in complete denial. Through their stories, the episode explores the fragility of trust and how even the most carefully constructed relationships can unravel in an instant.

While Hannah maintains her professional composure, the case hits uncomfortably close to home. At this point in the series, she is already quietly struggling with her own inner conflict, caught between her stable but emotionally distant marriage to Nathan and her growing connection with former flame and colleague, Christie (Barry Atsma).

As she listens to clients justify their affairs, conceal their secrets, or break down under the weight of truth, Hannah begins to see echoes of herself, the compromises, the temptations, the emotional double lives. The case compels her to ask herself difficult questions: What does fidelity really mean? Is emotional infidelity just as damaging as a physical one? Can trust ever be fully restored once broken?

It’s a significant turning point in The Split. Up until now, the series has balanced its personal and legal storylines with relative clarity. But here, the line between Hannah’s work and her personal life begins to dissolve. The emotional toll of her cases begins to bleed into her marriage, her relationship with her children, and her still-simmering feelings for Christie.

It’s complex, painful, and full of moral ambiguity. The writing refuses to let you fully root for or against anyone, it’s too honest for that. By the third series, Hannah and Nathan are headed for divorce themselves. Their separation, what they call “the good divorce”, is heart-wrenching not because it’s explosive, but because it’s so real. Two good people, doing their best, and still coming apart.

Throughout, the sibling dynamic is wonderfully written. The Defoe sisters bicker, support, judge, and defend one another like only sisters can. Their bond, frayed but unbreakable, gives the show much of its emotional strength.

When the series wrapped in 2022, it felt complete, but for many fans, also slightly abrupt. So when the BBC announced The Split: Barcelona, a two-part special set in Spain, there was excitement, but also a flicker of concern: Would it undo the perfect ending?

Thankfully, it didn’t. Set around Liv’s wedding (Hannah and Nathan’s daughter), the finale reunites the family under the Catalonian sun, and it’s gorgeous. Visually, emotionally, tonally, it feels like a love letter to the characters. There’s a lighter, more romantic tone at times, even a touch of fairytale, but it never loses the show’s emotional core. Old tensions resurface, new questions arise, and that ever-present tug between past and future lingers in every scene.

Walker is, once again, extraordinary. Her scenes with Stephen Mangan as Nathan are quietly devastating, full of affection, sadness, and acceptance. They’re not back together, but their love hasn’t disappeared either; it’s just changed shape.

The finale also provides satisfying closure for Nina and Rose, perhaps a touch neater than real life would allow, but earned, nonetheless. There’s humour, warmth, even a bit of glamour. And underneath it all, the same emotional honesty that’s carried the show from the very start.

The Split has never been about dramatic twists or legal jargon. It’s about people; messy, complicated, well-meaning people, trying to do the right thing and often getting it wrong. It’s about love in all its forms, and how sometimes the bravest thing you can do is let go. Across all three series and the Barcelona finale, the show managed to be intelligent, stylish, moving, and, above all, real.

By the time the credits rolled in Barcelona, it felt like saying goodbye to old friends. And while the ending was final enough to feel complete, it also left a small part of you hoping, just a little, that the Defoe’s might return one day.