House of Guinness review: Arson, intrigue and family feuds fuel Steven Knight drama
A brisk, globe-spanning take on the Guinness dynasty blends opulent period detail with political peril and private scheming.

House of Guinness, Steven Knight’s brisk new period drama about the famous brewing dynasty, opens with a riot along a Dublin street as a funeral procession winds toward the cathedral. An arson attack at the Guinness brewery soon follows, signaling a story that blends family ambition with the era’s political heat.
Set across late-19th-century Dublin and New York, the series follows the Guinness clan as it builds a global empire rooted in beer and power. Arthur Guinness (Anthony Boyle), the eldest son, wants nothing to do with the family business, while his brother Edward Guinness (Louis Partridge) is the shrewd mind who negotiates a deal at the wake that makes Arthur a sleeping partner. Benjamin Guinness (Fionn O'Shea) is a self-assured gambler whose desire for control runs headlong into misfortune, and sister Anne (Emily Fairn) keeps order at the house even as she guards a personal secret. The brewery’s charismatic foreman and fixer, Sean Rafferty (James Norton), dominates many scenes, while Ellen Cochrane (Niamh McCormack)—a sharp Fenian figure—adds political heat to the family’s internal battles. The show’s London premiere, attended by real-life Guinness family members among the stars, frames a world where pageantry and peril walk hand in hand.
Midway through the wake, Edward’s motion to consolidate power leaves Arthur as a sleeping partner, tilting the family’s balance of influence and setting in motion a lattice of loyalties, blackmail, and forbidden desire. Anne’s steamy affair with Sean Rafferty and Arthur’s own private vulnerabilities deepen the drama, while the Fenian agitation outside the brewery echoes the era’s tensions between business empire and nationalist politics. The series juggles Dublin’s streets with New York boardrooms, aiming for a transatlantic scale that matches the Guinness name.
One recurring note from critics is a perceived flaw in the plot: Knight appears to lead audiences toward an ending that feels predictable given the historical arc of the Guinness family, which retained influence well into the late 20th century. The inclusion of a long-running timeline dubbed the Guinness curse—listing a string of deaths and tragedies from the 1700s to the present—provides context but can undercut suspense if the destination is familiar. Still, the production’s period detail, ambitious cast, and brisk pacing offer a compelling blend of gilded aristocracy and streetwise ruthlessness, with Partridge, Boyle, Norton, Fairn, and McCormack delivering the ensemble’s energy.
Overall, House of Guinness positions itself as a World-stage prestige drama about empire, lineage and the price of power. It uses a centuries-old family brand to explore ambition, loyalty and corruption across continents, inviting audiences into a world where business, blood, and legacy collide in explosive fashion.