Sally Wainwright’s “Riot Women” roars onto BBC One: Hebden Bridge turns up the volume and the cast brings the fire

Riot Women: a punk anthem with heart—and bite

“Riot Women” centers on Beth (Joanna Scanlan), a teacher wrestling with invisibility and grief, who collides with freewheeling outsider Kitty (Rosalie Craig). Their impulsive decision to form a band pulls in Jess (Lorraine Ashbourne), Holly (Tamsin Greig), and Yvonne (Amelia Bullmore), and what begins as a talent-contest caper quickly morphs into a howl against ageism, domestic pressures, and the thousand daily cuts that middle-aged women absorb. The tone is pure Wainwright: sharp, warm, and unsentimental, with jokes that land like snare hits and scenes that linger after the echo fades.

Hebden Bridge: the setting that shapes the story

Wainwright’s creative home turf isn’t just backdrop—it’s engine. Filming in and around Hebden Bridge (with Todmorden, Mytholmroyd, and Halifax in the mix) gives the show hard-earned texture: mill-town streets that remember past struggles, community spaces where gossip travels faster than Wi-Fi, and landscapes whose beauty sits comfortably alongside grit. That lived-in geography makes the band’s small wins feel enormous, and it grounds the series’ bigger questions about who gets seen, heard, and celebrated.

Riot Women cast: a powerhouse ensemble tuned to the same key

The lead quintet is a casting coup. Scanlan delivers bruised resilience without softening the edges; Craig plays volatility as creative fuel; Ashbourne anchors the group with bark-and-a-hug pragmatism; Greig slips between caustic humor and vulnerability; Bullmore finds the ache beneath competence. Around them, a deluxe supporting bench raises the ceiling: Sue Johnston, Anne Reid, Claire Skinner, Peter Davison, Amit Shah, Kevin Doyle, Taj Atwal, and more. It’s the sort of ensemble where even a two-scene turn can leave fingerprints on the episode.

Music that means something: punk as plot, not wallpaper

A show about a band lives or dies on its sound, and “Riot Women” understands that punk isn’t just a genre—it’s a method. The original songs are built for catharsis you can shout in a pub, yet they also carry narrative weight, stitching character beats into choruses and turning private fury into public release. When the band locks in, the camera catches not perfection but permission: the moment five women decide they don’t need anyone else’s.

Why “Riot Women” feels timely now

The series taps into a wider cultural reckoning with midlife—menopause, elder care, shifting marriages, stalled careers—and refuses the usual quiet fade-out. Instead of shrinking its characters to fit polite TV boxes, it hands them amps and says louder. The timing matters: audiences hungry for stories beyond coming-of-age arcs are finding coming-into-power arcs just as thrilling. Wainwright bottles that energy and makes it specific, funny, and unavoidably political without turning the script into a sermon.

What to watch for in Episode 1—and beyond

• A catalyst in the first act: a decision that turns grief into motion and sets the band’s messy birth in motion.

• A town that talks back: Hebden Bridge as chorus, critic, and occasional saboteur.

• Songs that evolve with the characters: lyrics sharpening as the women find language for what they’ve swallowed for years.

• Fault lines in friendship: creative control, stage fright, and the secrets that threaten to split the group just as they start to matter.

“Riot Women” is a rallying cry disguised as Sunday-night entertainment: noisy, tender, and impeccably built. If Happy Valley showed how Wainwright handles darkness, this one shows how she handles defiance—and why the best television doesn’t ask permission to be heard.