Netflix ‘You’ Season 5 Review - Joe Goldberg’s Final Chapter: A Twisted Tale of Obsession and Consequence

So here we are—finally. Five seasons in, and Joe Goldberg has completed his world tour of psychological warfare, obsessive love, and murder with a triumphant (or tragic?) homecoming to the city where it all started. “You” Season 5 swings its bloodied bat one last time, hitting the familiar beats we’ve come to expect—charm, manipulation, poorly thought-out killings—and occasionally trying to evolve beyond them. Does it stick to the landing? Kind of. But in true Joe fashion, it takes the long, messy, twisty route.

We begin with Joe, now married to Kate Lockwood, his latest partner-in-delusion and a billionaire with enough PR control to make North Korea blush. They’re living in New York, where Joe runs a respected bookstore (yes, back to books, again) and plays the role of a tortured intellectual philanthropist. At this point, Joe is basically a serial killer in a Patagonia vest. He’s not hiding in the shadows anymore—he’s mingling with New York’s elite, sipping wine at charity galas and pretending like he’s not constantly two minutes away from stabbing someone with a letter opener.

But, of course, Joe is still Joe. Enter Brontë, an offbeat playwright with zero filter and a fondness for calling people out. She’s magnetic in the way most of Joe’s victims tend to be—smart, emotionally damaged, and entirely too curious about the quiet man lurking in her periphery. Naturally, Joe gets obsessed. Naturally, things go south. And naturally, people start dying.

This season takes a different angle—it leans more into Joe being publicly visible and teetering on the edge of exposure at all times. There’s less hiding-in-a-basement energy and more high-stakes social chess. But as always, he still narrates everything with that signature “I’m the hero in this” tone that makes you want to both laugh and scream into a pillow.

The new additions to the cast are a chaotic delight. Kate’s twin sisters, Raegan and Maddie, are so aggressively elite they could be carbonated, and her brother Teddy seems like he’s permanently mid-blackmail. It’s like if the Roy family merged with an improv troupe. They’re not just decorative either—they stir the pot in ways that leave Joe scrambling, improvising, and digging his moral grave deeper by the episode.

Season 5 also tries to get a little... philosophical. There’s a subplot about legacy and public image, and how the truth can be manipulated until it resembles something halfway respectable. Joe even becomes the subject of an investigative podcast at one point, which is a wonderfully ironic touch considering he used to be the one stalking people through earbuds. But while these themes are fun, they’re also surface-level. The show hints at big ideas, winks at relevance, then gets distracted and goes back to murder logistics and emotionally repressed monologues.

Now, let’s talk pacing. The first few episodes zip along like they’ve had one too many cold brews. But the middle stretch? It slumps. There’s a chunk where it feels like the show’s just re-shuffling the same cards—Joe’s guilt, Kate’s denial, Brontë’s suspicions, and the occasional art gallery murder—all while buying time before the finale. You can feel the writers pulling on plot threads to see which one unravels best. Some do. Others snap and just dangle awkwardly.

Still, despite its stumbles, the final few episodes redeem a lot. There’s a staged death, a betrayal that hits harder than expected, and finally, finally, Joe getting caught. The show doesn’t romanticize it either. No glamorous exit, no tragic anti-hero moment. Just cold, hard prison bars and the crushing realization that all of Joe’s justifications were just elaborate nonsense. It’s oddly satisfying to see him stripped of the narrative control he’s clung to for five seasons.

Penn Badgley, as always, nails it. He’s so good at being terrible that you almost want to root for him before remembering you’re basically rooting for human malware. His internal monologues remain one of the best parts of the show—funny, delusional, deeply revealing. Madeline Brewer as Brontë is another standout. She’s unpredictable in a way that throws Joe off-balance, and you can feel the power shift happening between them long before Joe realizes it himself.

In the end, “You” Season 5 does what it needs to do: wrap up the saga without torching its legacy. It’s not perfect. It’s not even always coherent. But it’s entertaining, darkly funny, and just self-aware enough to wink at its own ridiculousness. Joe Goldberg finally gets what’s coming to him—not because he’s misunderstood, but because he’s a serial killer with a God complex and a thesaurus.

This season doesn’t ask you to forgive Joe. It doesn’t even ask you to understand him. It just asks you to watch him unravel in high definition, one mistake at a time. And honestly? That’s enough.

Final Score- [6/10]
Reviewed by - Anjali Sharma
Follow @AnjaliS54769166 on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times