
By the time Peaky Blinders reached its finale, Steven Knight had closed the door on one chapter without really locking it. Tommy Shelby rode away alive, the family was scattered, the old order felt shaky, and several relationships were left in that uneasy state the series always loved most: technically finished, emotionally nowhere near finished. With The Immortal Man bringing Cillian Murphy back as Tommy and continuing the story on film, there is plenty for the movie to pick up if it wants to hit the audience where this franchise usually hits hardest.
What makes this especially interesting is that Peaky Blinders was never built around tidy closure. It thrived on unfinished business. Every victory came with a bruise attached. Every personal breakthrough had a catch. So when people ask what storylines the movie could revisit, the real answer is: quite a lot, and not just for fan service. The strongest loose threads are the ones that go straight back to the show’s real obsessions, family, guilt, power, inheritance, and the question of whether Tommy Shelby can ever outrun the man he made himself into.
Tommy and the Cost of Survival
Tommy’s ending in season 6 looked like death until it suddenly became something stranger. He discovered he had been lied to, spared himself a final act of surrender, and rode off with no clear destination. That sounds freeing on paper. In practice, it leaves the movie with a huge emotional question.
What does Tommy do when he survives the ending that he had already accepted?
That matters because Tommy always functioned best when he had a war to fight, an enemy to outthink, or a wound to nurse. Peace was never his natural setting. If The Immortal Man wants to revisit anything worthwhile, it should revisit Tommy’s relationship with survival itself. Not the gangster mechanics of it, but the deeper issue. If he no longer believes he is dying, he has to decide whether living is actually something he wants, or whether he only knows how to endure.
Duke and the Future of the Shelby Name
One of the most obvious unresolved threads is Duke Shelby. Introduced late, then pushed quickly into the family’s inner circle, Duke felt less like a finished character and more like a handoff waiting to happen. The finale made that even clearer when Tommy whispered to him, gave him quiet recognition, and positioned him close to the center of whatever comes next. Season 6 ended with Duke inside the family structure while Charles stood slightly apart from it, which created a tension the film would be smart to explore.
That tension is juicy for a reason. Duke represents instinct, bloodline, and the old Shelby edge. Charles represents another possible legacy, one shaped by Tommy’s failures as a father and his hopes as a man who wanted his children to escape him. A movie can do a lot with that split.
And now that Barry Keoghan is part of the film’s cast, it is hard not to think the story may lean into that next-generation angle in a serious way. If the series asked whether Tommy could build an empire, the film can ask who inherits the wreckage and who inherits the myth.
Finn’s Exile Still Feels Unfinished

Finn’s last major moment in the series had the sting of something temporary, not final. He was cast out after failing to act with the cold loyalty the family expected, and the emotional tone of that scene mattered. Finn did not leave as a man who understood and accepted the judgment. He left angry, humiliated, and cut off from the family identity he had spent his whole life orbiting.
That is exactly the kind of wound Peaky Blinders loves to reopen.
A movie could revisit Finn in a few different ways. He could come back resentful and reckless and turn into a rival. He could even become tragic in a quieter way, as the Shelby who never fully grew into the world he was born into but could never escape. There is real dramatic potential there because Finn was always the brother left at the edge of the action, old enough to absorb the damage, too young to command respect when it mattered.
Ada’s Role in the Family After Tommy
Sophie Rundle’s Ada often served as the show’s clearest-eyed character, which is probably why she became more important as Tommy grew more unstable. By the end, Ada was no longer just the sharp sister who could cut through the room with one line. She was carrying responsibility, political intelligence, and a version of Shelby authority that did not rely on theatrics.
That leaves the movie with a compelling possibility. What happens if Ada becomes the person most capable of holding the family together when Tommy can’t, or won’t?
She is not a substitute Tommy. That would be far too simple, and frankly less interesting. Ada works because she sees the family clearly enough to question it while still feeling tied to it. If The Immortal Man revisits her storyline properly, it can show the Shelby legacy from the point of view of someone who understands its seduction and its cost.
Arthur’s Survival Is Still Emotionally Messy
Arthur Shelby has cheated collapse so many times that his mere presence is never the full story. Paul Anderson’s character survived season 6, but survival for Arthur has never meant stability. It usually means another morning after. Another stretch of haunted loyalty. Another fight between rage, faith, addiction, and grief.
That is why Arthur remains one of the richest unresolved threads. The movie could easily use him as familiar muscle and call it a day, but that would waste what has always made him powerful. Arthur is the human cost of Tommy’s world walking around in a suit. Every time Tommy builds something, Arthur ends up carrying part of the damage in his body.
If the film wants real weight, it should revisit the brothers as men who know each other almost too well by now. Not in a sentimental way. In the bruised, complicated way this story has always handled family. Tommy and Arthur rarely need long speeches. One look usually does the job.
Alfie, Gina, and the American Thread

Some loose ends are less emotional and more strategic, which does not make them any less useful. Alfie Solomons, played by Tom Hardy, was still very much in play by the end of the series, and his chaotic relationship with Tommy remains too good to ignore. He is one of the few characters who can walk into the story and instantly make it sharper, funnier, and more dangerous.
Then there is the American side of the board. Gina Gray, played by Anya Taylor-Joy, and Jack Nelson never felt fully resolved as threats. Their story had the feeling of business interrupted rather than business concluded. The finale suggested that power had shifted, not disappeared, and Peaky Blinders has never treated distant enemies as gone just because they leave the room.
A film has less time than a season, so it has to choose carefully. Still, if it wants scale, the American thread is sitting right there.
Lizzie and the Family Tommy Broke
For all the talk of crime, politics, and succession, one of the most painful unresolved storylines is still Lizzie. Natasha O’Keeffe’s character ended the series emotionally exhausted, having finally reached the point where loving Tommy was no longer enough to keep standing beside him. That split mattered because Lizzie was never just another casualty around Tommy. She understood him too well.
A movie revisiting Lizzie would not need to turn the story into romance. In fact, it probably should not. What it can do is force Tommy to confront the domestic damage he always found easier to bury beneath larger schemes. That includes Charles, too, because the question of Tommy’s legacy is not only about who takes his place in business. It is also about what kind of father he has been when the dust settles.
That is where The Immortal Man has a real chance to land something lasting. The most interesting unresolved storylines are not just the ones that set up another gunfight or betrayal. They are the ones that ask whether the Shelby story can move forward without repeating the same destruction in a new suit. If the movie understands that, it will not just revisit old threads. It will make them matter again.

Rachel Sikkema is a New Zealand-based writer and creative entrepreneur who explores the intersection of film, culture, and modern relationships. Through her articles, she examines how stories shape the way we connect, love and see ourselves. When she’s not writing about film and television, she’s watching Dexter and The White Lotus for the third time.