Since its earliest venture into true crime, Netflix has hooked viewers on the world’s most perplexing cases. The details of these—from the mysterious fire poker of “The Staircase” fame to the shocking abuse of police power in “Making a Murderer” —have made amateur sleuths of us all. The streaming platform hasn’t quite spanned the entire gamut of crimes as yet, but the latest addition to its whodunit shelf is a step in the right direction.
Netflix’s “Unbelievable” is the first true-crime series to take on sexual assault, an offense associated with vexing stats. For every 1000 rapes in the U.S., only 230 are reported. Of that number, a mere 46 lead to arrest, 9 to prosecution, 5 to conviction, and even less to incarceration. A slew of cases flatline because police believe the victim is lying, so it’s no shock to discover the central victim in this 8-part miniseries finds herself in such a frustrating situation.
Based on the Pulitzer Prize-winning article “An Unbelievable Story of Rape” by T. Christian Miller and Ken Armstrong, and on an episode of “This American Life” podcast, “Unbelievable” tells the sadly plausible true story of Marie Adler (Kaitlyn Dever), a troubled teen in Lynnwood, Washington, who reports a brutal sexual assault to the police. Understandably traumatized, she muddles some aspects of her story, and under pressure from two pushy male cops, claims she made the whole thing up. No longer seen as trustworthy by anyone, including former foster mom Judith (Elizabeth Marvel), Marie’s life spins out of control in every way possible until she’s eventually charged with filing a false report. Years later, two disparate female detectives in Westminster and Golden, Colorado, find common ground in their dogged quest to track down a serial rapist whose MO is both meticulous and highly specific. Though, unlike Marie, their victims handle post-rape admin far more effectively.
Once this premise is firmly established – in what must be one of the most unsettling first-episodes in television history – it’s clear what questions co-creators Susannah Grant, Ayelet Waldman and Michael Chabon want us to ask. How are the two narrative threads linked? How will the investigation conducted by Grace Rasmussen (Toni Collette) and Karen Duvall (Merritt Wever) help Marie? In reality, after all the pre-release hype surrounding “Unbelievable,” we’re left in little doubt as to whether Marie is telling the truth, the depictions of her rape more compelling as flashbacks than snippets from a hyper-vivid dream.
It’s tempting to view such a lack of ambiguity as tactless, but knowing the outcome of a case featured in a true-crime series doesn’t always spoil its enjoyability. Take “The Ted Bundy Tapes” for instance—we all knew how it went down for the world’s most charming psychopath, but were we any less gripped? No, because good writing builds tension and suspense regardless. And that’s certainly true here, the script not only handling the source material respectfully but also offering a thrilling, real-life tale of injustice to make our blood boil, on top of some technically brilliant television.
Dever’s performance as a damaged, exploited product of a flawed foster care system is utterly explosive. She and Danielle Macdonald, who plays fellow sexual assault victim Amber, have a command of their craft as strong as that of their older co-stars. As battle-hardened cynic Grace, Colette continues to prove her adaptability, and Wever brings a touch of her trademark wryness to God-fearing idealist Karen. The odd couple demonstrates surprisingly crackling onscreen chemistry, the intrinsically feminist commitment of their characters to protect other women— whatever the personal cost— utterly entrancing.
While events conclude in a quietly satisfying way, with justice served as it should be, “Unbelievable” leaves a bitter aftertaste. The victims here might get their just desserts, but lest we forget the other 99.5% of victims who don’t see their attackers behind bars. Highlighting a serious social issue, this Netflix limited series confirms we can’t always depend on our grievously imperfect criminal justice system— a system often inconceivably reliant on belief. [B+]
