Narrow mindedly, I wasn’t completely sold on the premise of All Her Fault, because it didn’t sound all that different from the average episode of Law and Order: S.V.U.– A wealthy family’s child goes missing, who could have done this and why- nothing overly unique. Luckily, my favourite subgenre of drama is “extremely wealthy family with a dark secret screaming at each other in a gorgeous kitchen” (and I fucking love S.V.U.) so I threw it on, even though I believed I could probably tell where it’s going. How wrong I was.
This is the first binge-watch I’ve had in a while where I couldn’t look away. The unrelenting tension subtly escalates in a way that keeps us on our toes throughout. Even when we think we’ve reached the climax, there’s always something new around the corner. All Her Fault is a masterclass in unexpected twists and turns, and while this is largely down to the writing, the acting performances are also phenomenal. You just know Nicole Kidman is somewhere cursing her agent that she wasn’t involved.
All Her Fault conveys how motherhood is weaponised as a force of patriarchal oppression. The perception of who is deserving of the title of “mother”, who is denied this privilege and how those granted it must suffer. Marissa Irvine (Sarah Snook) and Jenny Kaminski (Dakota Fanning) are both ensnared by the public perception of how good a mother you are. The constant scrutiny and judgement they face- Marissa by the media and Jenny by the mom-cult at school, while their (piece of shit) husbands breeze through relatively unscathed is an infuriatingly realistic portrayal of existing as an ambitious woman in a male-centered society. Snook gives a stellar performance- Marissa’s devastation is palpable as she tries to navigate the minefield of finding her son, keeping the media on the family’s side so people will care enough to help, and questioning the true intentions of those closest to her.
Both Snook and Fanning deliver nuanced depictions of women desperately holding it together while being pushed to the edge, albeit in different circumstances. Jenny’s husband(/adult baby) could not care less about how his actions affect her, while Marissa’s cares too much, needing absolute control over everything. At opposite ends of this spectrum, their common ground is that they both suck. We see Jenny and Marissa become empowered through clawing through the other side of everything their husbands put them through, in another win for “Good For Her” media.
The dysfunctional dynamic in the Irvine family unravels in chaos as Peter Irvine (Jake Lacy)’s perfect-provider facade begins to crumble. The loving father and husband, financially taking care of his disabled brother and addict sister is not all he seems. Episode 5 is up there with The Bear’s season 1 episode, “Review”, in terms of secondhand stress- equal parts uncomfortable and impossible to look away. It must be said, Jake Lacy plays a narcissistic asshole beautifully. The more we learn about his character, the more we absolutely despise him. Not since Bad Sisters’s JP have I hated a fictional man so much. As insidious as he is, there’s a real patheticness to Peter that Lacy captures so well. He’s more worm than man.
The antagonist on the other hand, Jenny’s nanny, Carrie Finch (Played by Sophie Lillis) is demonised by the other characters from episode 1. Yet when we finally meet her, she gets a very sympathetic portrayal. We are constantly changing our mind about the characters as the complexity of the plot is revealed, but because of how well this is executed this feels like a natural reaction rather than total whiplash.
One aspect about the show that I was conflicted about was the obvious copaganda through Detective Alcaras (Michael Pena)- a competent, caring policeman who just wants the best for everyone. Is it a trope? Absolutely. Did I hate it? Not really! Detective Alcaras is a well-rounded character with respect for the people he has responsibility over. He is an outlier in the series as a selfless husband and father, abandoning his own principles for the greater good. While he values professionalism and upholding the law, we know that he is not above bending the rules for the sake of the moral high ground. I will admit, the cynic in me was rolling her eyes when we saw his home life, thinking “what an obvious ploy this is, trying to make us feel sorry for the policeman”. However, I fell for it in spite of myself, and was rooting for him by the end.
The satisfyingly unpredictable series arc combined with stellar performances earn All Her Fault an IMDb rating of 7.6 and 78% on Rotten Tomatoes. I do, however, sincerely hope that this isn’t a case of “limited series did so well we make a second season”. As much as I enjoyed it and think that the actors had fantastic chemistry, I believe that it was wrapped up perfectly and there’s no need to follow up on it. If you liked Big Little Lies, All Her Fault will be right up your street. I give it 4.5 stars.
Dearbhla Finn (Instagram: fearbhla) is an Irish screenwriter based in Bangkok. She graduated with an MA in Writing for Script and Screen from Falmouth University in 2025. She aspires to work in television and loves all things comedy, particularly sitcoms.
