Black Rabbit

Not every beat always lands—the middle stretch can circle its ideas a little too insistently—but the overall impact is clear. Between Bateman’s dirtbaggy, persuasive, career-best performance, Law’s weary precision, the suffocating direction, and Bensi and Jurriaans’ unforgettable score, “Black Rabbit” stands as one of Netflix’s most striking originals in recent memory.

Above all, what Black Rabbit demonstrates more than anything might be one of the rarest qualities in any modern streaming series, especially on Netflix – artistic vision and care. The various minute visual details and narrative subtleties will reward attentive viewers with an array of plants and payoffs.

Well-crafted thriller, and a reminder of just how good an actor — and director — Bateman is.

The series is eminently watchable, at times even addictive. This is largely due to the chemistry of Jason Bateman, who channels his smarm into Vince’s consummate dirtbag, and Jude Law, who fills Jake with a puffed-up swagger that can’t keep the hell hounds off his trail.

It isn’t in the same league [as Ozark and Breaking Bad], but it’s worth your time.

Netflix has been searching for a dark crime drama to rival Ozark since it ended in 2022 and while this can’t quite match the Byrde family’s messy life in Missouri, bringing Bateman back into the fold has helped it pull a fine new (black) rabbit out of the hat.

A gripping saga of loyalty and self-destructiveness that’s elevated by riveting performances from Bateman and Jude Law. [But] be prepared to turn your television’s brightness settings way up.

We get the feeling that Black Rabbit is going to be problematic and overstuffed as the series moves along, but Law and Bateman are so compelling as Jake and Vince, we’ll keep watching, just to see how far Vince pushes his brother’s goodwill.

Black Rabbit may get lost in its own unrelenting pace, but it manages to deliver a satisfying, albeit devastating, conclusion that feels frighteningly true to life.

The writing and the pacing of “Black Rabbit” during the appetizer portion of the program are solid enough that one will want to stick around for dessert, though there’s quite a bit of filler, too: A storyline that should become more taut as the Jake-Vince fable unfolds—and secrets are disclosed, and motives are explained—slackens considerably, though likely not enough to turn anyone off. The cast is uniformly convincing.

Jude Law and Jason Bateman make Netflix’s grim crime drama Black Rabbit worth watching, even when the story crumbles around them.

It’s too busy, trying to do too much, and loses the sharp focus it needs to bring us along for what is almost – but not quite – a great ride.

Black Rabbit is worth watching for its stylish direction (Bateman’s fellow Ozark alum Laura Linney helms two episodes), propulsive pace that mitigates some of the narrative wheel-spinning, and most of all Law and Bateman’s brilliantly cast brother act. But technical polish and the faithful execution of genre conventions alone can’t elevate a show beyond competence.

“Black Rabbit” sags in its middle stretch. The final sprint is the most thrilling, with sibling squabbles and climactic action providing much-needed momentum. Until then, however, we’re asked to spend a prolonged stint with two highly unpleasant people.

Netflix’s gripping yet exasperating and criminally overlong eight-part thriller.

There are only so many ways this story can go, and it does indeed go to one of them, though it’s so likely by the time we get there that it doesn’t deliver much of an emotional charge.

“Black Rabbit” isn’t bad, exactly, but it’s never as good as it could or should be. There’s a mismatch between how seriously it presents itself, with its visual flair and familial themes, and its imprecision in plot and setting.

Given the robust talent behind “Black Rabbit,” it’s a shame their diligent work is in service of such a hollow, joyless venture.

This is a promising, if familiar, dynamic for Black Rabbit, created by King Richard screenwriter Zach Baylin, along with Kate Susman. But it rarely plays out in a compelling fashion, because neither brother comes across quite like the show wants them to.

Where the Disney+ series [The Bear] builds characters and relationships that are easy to care about, Black Rabbit tortures the detestable men at its centre – and us along with them.

The scripts honestly don’t have a clue who Jake is, and Law’s performance is thoroughly unfocused, if emotionally persuasive at moments. The two actors spend almost eight hours yelling at each other sanctimoniously, which is both a believable interpretation of a sibling relationship and really boring after a while.

Perhaps if the story were more focused, or the supporting characters were given more to do in their wasteful subplots. Alas, this is one rabbit the creators simply couldn’t pull out of the hat.