His & Hers Review: Netflix Delivers One of Its Sharpest and Most Deceptive Whodunits

In an era crowded with crime thrillers and mystery dramas, standing out requires more than just an intriguing murder or stylish cinematography. Netflix’s His & Hers manages to do exactly that by redefining how a modern whodunit engages its audience — not as passive observers, but as active participants constantly questioning their own judgment.

Adapted from the bestselling novel by His & Hers, the series places its two central characters in an unusual and unsettling position: at the heart of suspicion. Starring Tessa Thompson and Jon Bernthal, the show unfolds in a small town simmering with secrets, resentment and moral compromise.

Thompson plays Anna, a journalist attempting to reclaim professional relevance after stepping away from her career. Bernthal portrays Jack, her estranged husband and the town’s lead detective. Their already fractured relationship becomes dangerously complicated when Jack is assigned to investigate the murder of Anna’s former high school friend — a woman with whom he was secretly involved. From the outset, His & Hers establishes that nothing is clean, straightforward or emotionally uncomplicated.

What elevates the series above standard crime dramas is its refusal to provide comfort. No character is entirely trustworthy. No perspective feels fully reliable. Each episode skillfully redirects suspicion, convincing the viewer they are finally ahead of the narrative, only to dismantle that confidence moments later. The storytelling is precise and deliberate, using misdirection not as a gimmick, but as a core narrative device.

Unlike many whodunits that rely heavily on twists for shock value, His & Hers builds tension through psychological unease. It thrives on moral ambiguity — not just asking who committed the crime, but why the audience is so eager to believe certain versions of the truth. The show quietly interrogates bias, perception and emotional loyalty, forcing viewers to confront how easily empathy can cloud judgment.

Visually, the series remains restrained and effective. It avoids excessive stylisation, allowing performances and narrative structure to take centre stage. The pacing is confident, gradually tightening its grip rather than racing toward revelation. As the story progresses, the sense of unease deepens, culminating in a finale that feels both inevitable and devastating.

In recent years, platforms like Netflix and Prime Video have invested heavily in crime dramas. While shows like The Better Sister and The Beast in Me raised the bar, His & Hers pushes it further by refusing to reassure its audience at any point.

The final reveal does not offer validation in the traditional sense. Instead, it forces viewers to reckon with how thoroughly they have been manipulated — and how willingly they participated. The brilliance of the series lies in this quiet betrayal, where the truth feels less like a solution and more like a reckoning.

Book adaptations often struggle to balance fidelity with cinematic effectiveness, but His & Hers succeeds by understanding the strengths of both mediums. It delivers a taut, emotionally intelligent thriller that lingers long after the final episode, proving that the smartest mysteries are those that never stop questioning the audience.