Of course. Here is an article about the Netflix limited series, Unbelievable.
The Quiet Power of Believing: Why Netflix’s ‘Unbelievable’ Remains Essential Viewing
Some shows arrive with a deafening roar of marketing and hype. Others, like Netflix’s 2019 limited series Unbelievable, land with a quiet, seismic force, leaving a lasting tremor in the cultural landscape. It’s not a series you “binge” in the traditional, popcorn-fueled sense; it’s a story you absorb, one that sits with you long after the credits roll. Based on a true story that is, in a word, unbelievable, the series is more than a masterclass in television—it’s a profound and necessary examination of truth, trauma, and the devastating consequences of disbelief.
Based on the Pulitzer Prize-winning article “An Unbelievable Story of Rape” by T. Christian Miller and Ken Armstrong, the series unfolds along two parallel timelines. In one, we meet Marie Adler (a heart-wrenching Kaitlyn Dever), a vulnerable teenager in Washington who reports being raped at knifepoint in her apartment. Her story, halting and inconsistent under the pressure of repeated questioning by male detectives, begins to crumble in their eyes. Doubted by the police, her former foster parents, and eventually everyone around her, Marie recants her story, claiming she made it all up. She is charged with filing a false report, her life systematically dismantled by the very system meant to protect her.
This is the first trauma, followed by the second: the slow, grinding cruelty of being disbelieved. Dever’s performance is a masterpiece of quiet devastation. She portrays Marie not as a dramatic victim, but as a confused, terrified young woman folding into herself, her spirit eroded by a cascade of gaslighting from figures of authority. The show forces us to watch as her truth is branded a lie, a public spectacle that leaves her utterly alone.
Then, the narrative shifts. Years later, in Colorado, we are introduced to a different kind of policing. Detective Grace Rasmussen (an impeccably world-weary Toni Collette) and Detective Karen Duvall (a profoundly empathetic Merritt Wever) are investigating separate but eerily similar sexual assault cases. Rasmussen is sharp, cynical, and relentlessly driven; Duvall is patient, methodical, and deeply compassionate. Their partnership is the engine of the series, a brilliant depiction of female competence and collaboration. There’s no ego, no grandstanding—just two professionals committed to doing the work.
As they begin to connect the dots, they uncover a serial rapist who has been operating across state lines for years, leaving a trail of victims who, like Marie, were often not believed. The detectives’ investigation is the antithesis of Marie’s experience. They listen. They validate. They meticulously build a case, not by pressuring victims, but by painstakingly gathering evidence and treating each woman’s account with the gravity it deserves.
What makes Unbelievable so powerful is its profoundly ethical approach to its subject matter. The series refuses to sensationalize the violence. The assaults are not shown in graphic detail; instead, the focus is squarely on the aftermath. We see the sterile, cold environment of the hospital exam, the repetitive, exhausting nature of police interviews, and the long, lonely road of trying to piece a life back together. It’s a deliberate choice that centers the survivor’s experience rather than the perpetrator’s crimes.
The performances are, without exception, extraordinary. Collette and Wever create one of the most compelling detective duos in recent memory, their contrasting energies forming a perfect whole. But it is Kaitlyn Dever who anchors the series with a performance of such raw vulnerability that it’s almost difficult to watch. She conveys a universe of pain in her downcast eyes and trembling voice, making Marie’s isolation feel terrifyingly real.
Unbelievable is not an easy watch, but it is an essential one. It’s a searing indictment of the systemic failures that re-traumatize victims of sexual assault and a powerful testament to the importance of simply listening. It asks us to consider how often “unbelievable” is used as a synonym for “inconvenient,” and how quickly we can dismiss a truth that makes us uncomfortable.
More than just a true-crime drama, the series is a hopeful, human story about justice finally served. It shows us the damage done when empathy fails and the healing that can begin when it is finally offered. It’s a story that, once seen, is impossible to forget—and impossible to ever again dismiss as unbelievable.
