Alfonso Cuarón’s Disclaimer, streaming on Apple TV+, takes viewers on a mind-bending journey into the past of its protagonist, Catherine, played by Cate Blanchett. This is a slow-burn psychological thriller wrapped in a mystery, blending elegant storytelling with layers of emotional depth. And while it mostly works as a compelling character study, it sometimes leaves you straining to untangle the mess of secrets it lays out.
Blanchett, as expected, delivers a stellar performance as Catherine, a woman confronted with a terrifying chapter of her life when a mysterious novel, titled The Perfect Stranger, mirrors events she thought she had long buried. The show plays with time, moving back and forth through Catherine's life, gradually revealing how the pieces fit together. Cuarón’s ability to seamlessly switch between different periods in his nonlinear narrative is one of the show’s biggest strengths. The timeline complexity isn't confusing but does demand attention, rewarding patient viewers as the puzzle of Catherine’s past begins to take shape.
One of the series' greatest strengths lies in its pacing and Cuarón’s direction. The show thrives on long takes that allow the actors' performances to unfold naturally. The tension is palpable, especially in moments where Catherine finds herself at odds with her husband, Robert (Sacha Baron Cohen, in a serious, nuanced role that will surprise fans of his comedic work). Cohen, stripped of his usual flamboyance, portrays Robert as a man quietly suffering, with emotions brimming just under the surface. The show pulls the viewer into these personal conflicts without needing flashy effects or grand gestures.
But the brilliance of Disclaimer doesn’t solely rest on its performances. The visual storytelling is exquisite. Cuarón’s signature style is unmistakable—his long takes, carefully composed shots, and moody lighting perfectly echo the weight of the secrets these characters carry. The production feels almost cinematic at times, further blurring the line between television and film. There’s a dark beauty in the quiet menace of Catherine’s world, from her affluent surroundings to the more grim, evocative images that haunt her—fish heads in bowls, cockroaches under glass—adding a visceral layer to the suspense.
However, the series is not without its flaws. At times, the pacing borders on sluggish, especially in the middle episodes where the intrigue plateaus a little. This could be a sticking point for viewers craving fast-paced action, but the show never pretends to be anything other than a slow burn. It revels in small, tense moments of revelation rather than bombastic twists, which, while refreshing, can also leave you waiting too long for a payoff.
The show digs into uncomfortable themes, particularly how the traumas of the past can shape the present. Kevin Kline as the aging antagonist, whose presence looms large over Catherine’s life, is phenomenal. His character’s history with her is slowly revealed, and Kline plays it with a mix of sorrow and menace that keeps you guessing about his true intentions. Kline’s scenes are electric, and his chemistry with Blanchett brings a sharp, uncomfortable tension to the forefront.
One of the key themes running through Disclaimer is how narratives can be manipulated, both in literature and in life. This theme plays out in the way Catherine’s story is retold through The Perfect Stranger, forcing her to confront events she might have preferred to forget. The show's title nods to the idea that everyone has their own version of the truth, and while Catherine spends much of the series denying or evading her past, the book forces her to face it head-on.
Where Disclaimer falters a bit is in its attempts to juggle too many subplots. While the primary storyline of Catherine’s past and its present repercussions is gripping, the show occasionally detours into areas that don’t feel fully developed. For instance, Kodi Smit-McPhee’s character, Nicholas, has his own subplot that feels somewhat disconnected from the central story. Though his performance is solid, his narrative arc doesn’t quite reach the same emotional heights as the rest, leaving you wondering if it was necessary at all.
By the time the final episode rolls around, the show has built enough momentum to deliver a satisfying, if understated, conclusion. It’s not a jaw-dropping finale, but it’s one that feels earned, bringing the various threads of Catherine’s life together in a way that highlights the series’ themes of memory, guilt, and redemption.
Disclaimer is not for everyone. If you enjoy fast-moving plots and big, dramatic reveals, this series might frustrate you. But for those willing to invest in a show that takes its time, peeling back its layers slowly, it offers a rewarding experience. The performances, especially from Blanchett and Cohen, are reason enough to watch, but Cuarón’s direction elevates it to something more than just a typical thriller. It’s an elegant, atmospheric, and often unsettling exploration of how the stories we tell ourselves—both in fiction and in life—can come back to haunt us.
In short, Disclaimer is a brooding, beautifully crafted series with impeccable performances and deep emotional undertones. It may not be a perfect show, and it may test your patience at times, but it's undoubtedly a triumph of sophisticated storytelling. Cuarón’s filmmaking prowess is on full display, and while the series may occasionally stumble in pacing, it remains a thought-provoking and visually arresting journey into the darker corners of the human psyche.
Final Score- [7.5/10]
Reviewed by - Anjali Sharma
Follow @AnjaliS54769166 on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times
Note: All 7 episodes are screened for this review.
Premiere Date: October 11, 2024, on Apple TV+ with the first two episodes followed by a new episode every Friday.