Netflix's Beast in Me Had Me Hooked… Until They Didn't

Netflix’s new thriller The Beast in Me, created by Gabe Rotter, is one of the most frustrating shows I’ve watched this year, and I mean that as both a compliment and a criticism.

From the opening episode, the series sinks its claws in. The tension simmers rather than explodes, allowing dread to accumulate scene by scene. Rotter and his team demonstrate a clear understanding of psychological suspense, letting conversations linger just a little too long and framing moments in a way that keeps you constantly questioning motives. It’s a slow burn done right. Until it isn’t.

A huge part of what works here is the cast. Claire Danes (Homeland, Romeo + Juliet) plays Aggie Wiggs. She delivers a layered, emotionally raw performance that anchors the entire series. She brings vulnerability and steel in equal measure, making every unraveling revelation feel earned. She's dealing with the death of her son, and pushing down the idea that she might have fault in the accident that occurred. This comes across as her days of being a Pulitzer Prize writer have stagnated to severe writer's block and bitter loneliness. Opposite her, Matthew Rhys (Saturday Night, Cocaine Bear) radiates quiet intensity as Nile Jarvis. He embodies ambiguity in a way that keeps you guessing about his true intentions until the very end. Every word he speaks, every looks he gives makes you question what the hell is going on and what is he capable of doing. He embodies an updated version of Hanibal Lector, both engaging to hear and nightmarish watch. The juxtaposition of these two characters is brilliant.

The supporting cast is just as strong. Jonathan Banks (Breaking Bad, Beverly Hills Cop) brings gravitas with minimal effort as a man who has built an empire and hopes to see it continue behind his years. He plays Nile's father and shocking, he's not the bad guy! Or rather, he's not thee bad guy. Brittany Snow (Pitch Perfect, The Pacifier) and Natalie Morales (Self Reliance, No Hard Feelings) add texture and complexity. They are the emotional rocks to their spouse, Nile, and ex-spouse, Aggie, respectively. Even in smaller moments, actors like Tim Guinee (Iron Man, Tulsa King), playing Nile's uncle who simply wants to protect his brother's legacy from his nephew's actions to Hettienne Park (Hannibal, Bride Wars) playing a compromised FBI agent still trying to do the right thing to David Lyons (Revolution, Eat Pray Love) playing an FBI agent obsessed with putting Nile behind bars, all elevate the material, making the world feel lived-in, dirty, and authentic.

For most of its run, The Beast in Me masterfully builds suspense. Each episode peels back another layer, and when the show dedicates an entire chapter to exploring the past, detailing how relationships fractured and secrets festered, it feels like a bold, confident choice. That episode is arguably the series’ high point: emotionally devastating, narratively rich, and thematically cohesive. It deepens everything that came before and sets the stage for what should have been a powerful climax.

And then… it farted all that hard work and great suspense into the wind.

After spending so much time methodically constructing the emotional and psychological architecture of its story, the show leaves itself just one episode to tie everything together. Instead of allowing consequences to breathe, revelations are delivered rapid-fire. Character arcs that deserved confrontation and fallout are wrapped up in tidy exchanges. Motivations that were once complex become suddenly simplified. And death is abundant, which could have worked, but in this case is just a way to tidy up storylines for key characters.

The ending doesn’t just feel abrupt, it feels evasive. As if the writers, after crafting such a meticulous build, weren’t sure how to land the plane and opted for the fastest runway available. It’s not that the answers themselves are entirely unsatisfying; it’s that they’re delivered in a way that undercuts the careful tension the series worked so hard to cultivate.

That’s what makes The Beast in Me such a mixed experience. The acting is phenomenal. The suspense is expertly constructed. I truly had anxiety as I was watching the show and seeing characters paint themselves into unforeseen corners. The atmosphere is thick with unease. For much of its runtime, it’s prestige television firing on all cylinders. But the final stretch feels like a different show, one in a hurry to be done rather than one committed to earning its conclusion.

In the end, I admired it more than I loved it. It’s absolutely worth watching for the performances alone, and for several episodes it feels like something truly special. But the rushed, overly neat finale left me feeling cheated, not because the story lacked potential, but because it had so much of it and chose not to fully deliver. I have not stopped thinking about the show, which is usually a great sign, but in this case it's me wondering, what if...?

Check out the trailer:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8iNHGKcP0cM