'Code of Silence' Review: Lip-Reading, Law-Breaking & One Seriously Good Lead

No Pity Just Plot Twists

The beauty of Code of Silence lies in how unbothered it is about making you feel sorry for Alison. Her deafness isn’t romanticized or used as a shortcut to sympathy. She isn’t out here demanding extra credit for existing. What makes you root for her is not her condition, but her very human tendency to jump headfirst into messes she probably shouldn’t be in.

Alison works in a police department’s canteen, a job filled with cleaning grease traps and dodging a boss who would fire her just for blinking too loudly. But things take a turn when the cops find themselves short staffed for a crucial investigation. They need a lip reader to decipher surveillance footage of a dangerous gang, and suddenly, Alison’s skills have value. The thrill of finally being listened to after years of being underestimated? That’s the real fuel here.

What follows is a case of casual curiosity turning into full blown chaos. Alison doesn't just help out with a few lines of decoded footage. She dives into fieldwork, motivated by a mixture of purpose, desperation, and a sneaky attraction to the gang's newest recruit.

From Oven Scrubbing to Crime Busting

What begins as a side gig decoding blurred lips on grainy screens quickly escalates into something a lot riskier. Alison doesn’t just stay behind the monitor. She volunteers, correction, throws herself, into the line of fire, slipping into undercover mode and hanging out at the same pub as the gang’s fresh faced hacker, Liam Barlow.

And Liam isn’t just any shady dude. He’s mysterious, possibly remorseful, and dangerously cute, which naturally means Alison gets emotionally tangled. So now we’ve got a canteen worker spying on criminals, catching feelings, and going full detective while her supervisors either roll their eyes or quietly pray she doesn’t blow the whole operation.

The emotional stakes double as Alison tries to balance her new, dangerous gig with the looming financial crisis at home. She and her mom, who is also deaf, are facing eviction, job insecurity, and a long list of bureaucratic hurdles. So, there’s no superhero origin story here just a woman trying to stay afloat in a world that keeps moving the goalposts.

Subtitles, Stress, and Slightly Illegal Moves

One of the cleverest things the show does is visually represent Alison’s lip reading. We see what she sees fragments of words, often garbled or incomplete, that slowly assemble into sense only with the help of context. This is not some magical skill where she just knows everything being said. It’s trial and error. It’s educated guessing. It’s exhausting work, and the series honors that effort.

We also see the toll. There’s a moment when Alison, bone tired from constantly trying to adapt to a hearing world, says she doesn’t want to be hearing. She just wants everyone else to be a little bit deaf for once. It’s one of those lines that lands softly but hits hard.

The show drops in other small but potent examples. Like Alison giving up on a TV show because the subtitles are too slow. Or liking specific beers at the pub because their odd names are easier to read on someone’s lips. These details matter. They quietly sketch out what everyday exhaustion looks like.

The Heist Before the Heartbreak

There’s a big robbery brewing in the background, and as the gang circles closer to their score, Alison edges further into danger. Liam, the guy she likes, is in on it. The cops she works with can’t control her. And Alison? She’s doing it her way, which usually involves ignoring instructions, chasing leads, and hoping no one dies.

The show teases you with the usual genre moves the romance that may or may not crash and burn, the big sting operation, the will she get caught question but what keeps you watching isn’t just the plot. It’s the people. Alison’s relationship with her mother (played beautifully by Fifi Garfield), her ex boyfriend popping in at all the wrong moments, and even her dynamic with the weary detectives trying to rein her in, all add texture to the story.

Every supporting character from the buttoned up DI to the curious DS to the sketchy hacker exists in Alison’s orbit and is partly shaped by her bold choices. Their reactions frustration, admiration, suspicion build a dynamic that’s always shifting.

When the Sound Fades Out

In some of the most immersive moments, the show messes with the audio itself. The background noise dims, muffles, or disappears, pulling hearing viewers into Alison’s soundscape. These choices aren’t gimmicks. They’re effective reminders that this isn’t your standard cop drama.

And perhaps that’s what makes Code of Silence so exciting. It doesn't just give us a fresh protagonist. It reshapes the rules around her. She’s not a super lip reader. She’s not a tragic figure. She’s someone trying to pay rent, falling for the wrong guy, and using the only tools she has to figure out who’s getting robbed next.

The directing, writing, and editing all work together to support that goal to center a character who isn’t here to inspire your pity, but to make your jaw drop when she flips the script.

Chaos, Charm, and Consequences

Alison is a magnetic mess. She pushes boundaries, skips protocols, and dives headfirst into situations that would terrify most people. And yet, you’re always with her, even when you know she’s probably making a huge mistake.

It helps that Ayling Ellis brings a grounded energy to the character. Her performance is natural, charming, and incredibly watchable. You believe every bad decision and small victory because Ayling Ellis never overplays anything. She just is.

And the show isn’t afraid to let her screw up. There are consequences. Mistakes aren’t brushed aside. She loses things. She hurts people. But she also grows, not in some cheesy “hero’s journey” way, but through trial, error, and sheer grit.

It’s refreshing to see a crime series trust its lead character to be her own engine. And even more refreshing to see a series that’s aware of the real world systems class, access, perception that define her path.