Russell T. Davies is a name synonymous with bold, boundary-pushing television. While many know him for resurrecting Doctor Who in 2005, his true legacy lies in his unflinching commitment to queer storytelling, from the groundbreaking Queer as Folk to the devastating It's a Sin. With his latest Starz series, Tip Toe, Davies turns his lens from the past to the present, delivering a searing, urgent drama that feels less like entertainment and more like a warning siren.
The series opens with a gut-punch: a body swinging from a lamppost, a woman's scream piercing the night, and neighbors who look away. It's a chilling image that sets the tone for the ten days we're about to relive, a countdown to tragedy that unfolds with the inevitability of a Greek myth.
At the heart of Tip Toe are two neighbors on Manchester's Canal Street, the beating heart of the city's gay community. Leo (Alan Cumming) is a sixtysomething bar owner, a man who has fought his battles and believes the war for equality is won. Clive (David Morrissey) is a working-class electrician, a man simmering with resentment at a world he no longer understands. Their paths collide when Leo, locked out in his underwear after a hookup steals his laptop, is forced to ask Clive for help. It's a small act of kindness that spirals into an uneasy, volatile connection.
Davies wastes no time in establishing the ideological chasm between them. Clive is a walking compendium of grievances: anti-immigrant, vaguely racist, and deeply suspicious of what he calls "the gay lifestyle." He's also a neglectful father, oblivious to the fact that one son is gay and closeted while the other makes a living on OnlyFans. Leo, for his part, is almost infuriatingly patient, a man who sees the good in everyone, even when that goodness is buried under layers of bigotry. It's a dynamic that will test your patience, but it's also the engine that drives the show's central question: how much tolerance is too much?
Cumming, best known for his flamboyant hosting duties on The Traitors, delivers a career-best performance here. His Leo is a man of warmth and weariness, a survivor who has earned the right to rest but is being dragged back into the fray. His scenes with Paul Rhys's Melba, a friend who delivers the show's thesis with devastating clarity—"I used to walk into rooms and go: 'Ta-da!' Now I walk on tiptoe, just in case"—are worth the price of admission alone.
Morrissey is equally compelling, radiating a discomfort that feels all too familiar in an age of online radicalization. His Clive is a man drowning in YouTube rabbit holes and disinformation, lashing out at a world he feels has left him behind. Yet Davies' writing hints at the possibility of another path, a version of this story where curiosity might have triumphed over fear. It's a tragedy that Clive never finds it.
But Tip Toe is more than just a two-hander. The bar Leo owns, Spit & Polish, is a haven for a found family of misfits—trans, nonbinary, gay, straight—who find solace in each other's company. A subplot involving the bar's manager Zee (Iz Hesketh) escaping an abusive landlord is both hilarious and heartbreaking, a reminder of the everyday battles the queer community still faces.
Some will dismiss Tip Toe as melodramatic or preachy, and it's true that Davies doesn't do subtle. But in a world where LGBTQ rights are being rolled back with alarming speed, subtlety feels like a luxury we can no longer afford. This is a show that demands to be seen, a rallying cry that echoes long after the credits roll. For those who've followed Davies' career, it's a worthy successor to his previous work, and for newcomers, it's a stark introduction to one of television's most vital voices.
If you're looking for something that will challenge you, Tip Toe is it. And if you're a fan of Starz's recent offerings, this is a must-watch. Just don't expect to walk away unscathed.
