About “The Night Manager” in a few words:

The Night Manager is a slick espionage thriller where glamour and corruption dance very close together. At the center is Jonathan Pine, a former soldier turned hotel night manager who gets dragged into the dangerous inner circle of arms dealer Richard Roper. As undercover games unfold across stunning locations, alliances blur, trust breaks, and everyone is forced to choose between comfort and conscience.

Meet the characters from The Night Manager

Jonathan Pine

Jonathan is the kind of quiet, watchful guy who notices the tiny details everyone else misses and then files them away like evidence — ex-army, painfully polite, but with a volcanic core. He’s the night manager who looks unassuming on the surface but will absolutely follow a thread until it unravels a conspiracy, and yes he probably keeps a notebook with messy marginalia and grocery lists in the same place. He’s morally stubborn, which is both heroic and annoying, and he sometimes makes impulsive choices that contradict how orderly he seems (also he drinks scotch sometimes and sometimes he doesn’t, depending on the scene). There’s a tenderness to him that sneaks out at odd moments — a blink, a look — and it’s what makes him dangerous in a different, quieter way.

Richard Roper

Roper is pure slippery charisma in a tailored suit; charming, menacing, and impossibly rich in a way that makes your skin crawl with envy and a little fear. He runs things from a velvet-covered throne of plausible deniability and expensive tastes, with an appetite for control and spectacle — and yes he collects odd trinkets that contradict his ruthlessness, like vintage postcards or a surprisingly soft spot for an animal. He talks like a man who’s rehearsed empathy and then uses it as currency, and he can switch from warm to threatening with a smile that never quite reaches his eyes. He’s terrifyingly clever and morally vacant in a textbook way, but somehow also very theatrical about it — almost like he enjoys being admired as much as he enjoys the power itself.

Jed Marshall

Jed is the smooth, dangerous right-hand — young, American, restless and part-idealistic, part-street-smart enforcer who’ll joke with you then remind you who’s in charge. He’s loyal to Roper but not blind; there’s this simmering tension where he’s both protector and participant in terrible things, and sometimes he looks like he might crack under it (and then he surprises you by doing something small and human, like humming an old tune). He can be brash and charming at a bar and then deadly serious in a warehouse five minutes later, which is disorienting in the best way. He collects little contradictions: a soft childhood memory that makes him ache, and a capacity for violence he doesn’t like admitting to even when it helps him survive.

Angela Burr

Angela is bureaucratic fire — steely, principled, and absolutely relentless when she smells corruption, like a terrier that won’t let go of the scent once she’s got it. She’s a civil servant but also a moral compass for the whole messy story, stubborn in ways that make her both inspirational and exhausting to be around (she’ll keep you up at night with emails, in a good cause). She’s compassionate but not saccharine; she knows how to play the long game and can be disarmingly maternal one moment and icy the next, which is kind of her superpower. Also, she drinks terrible office coffee with fierce dignity and keeps a filing system that would make a librarian weep with joy.

Sandy Langbourne

Sandy is slick, urbane, and a little too comfortable in the gray areas where money and power meet — she’s the savvy fixer who smokes a lot of stylish cigarettes and laughs at the very idea of moral purity. She’s charming and avaricious and probably knows the exact amount of leverage one phone call buys you; simultaneously she can be warm in a way that makes you wonder if she’s playing a part or if she actually cares. She’s pragmatic to a fault, willing to tidy up messes for profit and sometimes for fun, which makes her fascinating and infuriating. Also: she paints in secret (or did I imagine that?), and she has the uncanny habit of appearing wherever convenient right when the plot needs it most.