Old School. Biblically Independent.
By Dustin Rowles | TV | November 12, 2025
Streaming mystery series are my catnip. I watch as many as I can in my ongoing search for greatness, even if that means suffering through dozens of baffling Harlan Coben series or mediocre scandi noirs. My favorite mystery series so far in 2025 is Netflix’s Dept Q. Formerly, my second favorite was Patience on PBS, followed by Better Sister on Prime Video. But both of those have moved down a notch after the release of Peacock’s All Her Fault.
The trailer did not look good, but I was wrong to dismiss it. I should have trusted the cast: Sarah Snook leads an impressive ensemble that includes Jake Lacy, Abby Elliott, Michael Peña, and Jay Ellis. It’s a missing-child mystery — a setup that can easily veer into LIFETIME MOVIE territory — but here, it’s executed with precision by creator Megan Gallagher, adapting Andrea Mara’s novel of the same name.
All Her Fault begins when Marissa Irvine (Sarah Snook), a high-powered professional, arrives at a stranger’s house expecting to pick up her son, Milo, from a playdate. The older woman who answers the door has no idea what she’s talking about. We soon learn that the woman with whom Marissa arranged the playdate, Jenny (Dakota Fanning), also doesn’t know where Milo is. It turns out her nanny, Carrie Finch (Sophia Lillis), arranged the playdate, picked Milo up from school, and has apparently kidnapped him.
But why? Suspects within Marissa’s family circle quickly emerge. Was her husband, Peter (Jake Lacy), having an affair with the nanny? Was his co-worker and their friend Colin (Jay Ellis) involved? What about Peter’s disabled brother, Brian (Daniel Monks), who lives in their guesthouse, or his sister, Lia (Abby Elliott), who has a history of drug abuse? Did Jenny, who hired the nanny without properly vetting her, share some responsibility? And what about Marissa’s own nanny — conveniently on vacation when Milo vanished? What’s the motive? Is there a ransom?
As the series unfolds, family secrets come to light, and each backstory feels rich enough to carry its own show. What makes All Her Fault so effective is that none of these threads are wasted. Every subplot feeds into the central mystery, circling back to one character who is, at turns, the most and least suspicious. The ultimate reveal teeters on the edge of implausibility, but the setup and execution make it deeply satisfying.
What’s equally impressive is how the show mirrors one of my other favorites, Hulu’s Fleishman Is in Trouble, in its exploration of the disproportionate emotional labor placed on working mothers. How much guilt should Marissa feel for not scrutinizing every detail of her son’s playdate? How much should Jenny shoulder for hiring the wrong person? And hovering nearby is always a stay-at-home mom (Melanie Vallejo) ready to judge.
Before the investigation even begins — led by the empathetic Detective Alcaras (Michael Peña) — everyone is desperate to assign blame. Anyone, as long as it isn’t themselves. And that’s the true heart of All Her Fault: the corrosive instinct to deflect responsibility, to turn suspicion inward until it obscures the real villain — the one quietly manipulating everyone to avoid their own guilt.
There aren’t many mysteries this thoughtful about parenting, marriage, and accountability. Combine that with top-tier performances and a twisty, unpredictable plot, and All Her Fault stands out as one of the year’s best. It’s the kind of show that makes a Peacock subscription feel justified — not just for the mystery, but for the mirror it holds up to our own uneasy consciences. It’s a damn good mystery.
