In the ever-shifting landscape of streaming libraries, few things evoke quite the same quiet urgency as a beloved title quietly approaching its expiration date. For fans of sophisticated suspense, that moment has arrived with The Good Liar, the 2019 crime thriller now streaming on Netflix but slated to depart the platform in the coming weeks. As January 2026 unfolds, viewers are racing against time to revisit—or discover for the first time—this polished, twist-laden drama that pairs two of cinema’s most formidable talents: Sir Ian McKellen and Dame Helen Mirren. Their on-screen chemistry elevates what could have been a standard con-artist tale into something far more compelling: a measured dance of deception, vulnerability, and long-buried reckoning set against the backdrop of contemporary London.
Directed by Bill Condon (Gods and Monsters, Beauty and the Beast) and adapted by Jeffrey Hatcher from Nicholas Searle’s 2015 novel, The Good Liar opens in 2009 with Roy Courtnay (McKellen), a suave, aging British con man who operates with meticulous precision. Alongside his longtime associate Vincent (Jim Carter), Roy specializes in elaborate financial schemes, using false identities to drain victims’ accounts. When he connects with Betty McLeish (Mirren) via an online dating site for mature singles, he believes he’s found his perfect mark: a recently widowed former Oxford history professor with substantial savings exceeding £2 million. Betty, grieving yet composed, seems trusting and open, inviting Roy into her life with surprising warmth.
What begins as a calculated seduction soon complicates itself. Roy’s plan—to convince Betty to pool their assets into a joint investment account he can plunder—encounters unexpected hurdles. As the two spend more time together, sharing meals, travels, and confidences, genuine affection creeps in. Roy finds himself genuinely caring for Betty, a development that threatens his icy professionalism. Betty, meanwhile, harbors her own secrets, her sharp intellect and quiet strength suggesting she’s not as naive as she appears. Supporting roles add texture: Russell Tovey as Betty’s protective grandson Steven, who grows suspicious of Roy, and a cast of secondary figures who flesh out the web of intrigue.
The film’s strength lies in its elegant restraint. Condon paces the story deliberately, allowing tension to build through subtle glances, loaded silences, and the interplay between McKellen’s charming menace and Mirren’s steely grace. McKellen imbues Roy with a layered charisma—calculating yet capable of vulnerability—while Mirren’s Betty radiates quiet authority, her every line delivery laced with unspoken depths. Their scenes together feel like a masterclass in acting: a cat-and-mouse game that evolves into something almost tender, even as the stakes rise. The London setting enhances the mood—rain-slicked streets, cozy homes, and the occasional jaunt to Berlin—creating an atmosphere of refined danger that recalls classic British thrillers.
The narrative thrives on misdirection. Just when viewers think they’ve mapped the con, the film shifts perspectives, introducing revelations that reframe earlier events. Flashbacks to the 1940s add historical weight, delving into wartime traumas that echo into the present. These sequences, though expository at times, deliver emotional punch, transforming the story from a mere swindle into an exploration of survival, revenge, and the masks people wear. The twists—particularly the film’s audacious finale—divide opinions: some find them clever and satisfying, others contrived. Yet the consensus highlights how the leads sell even the most improbable turns, keeping audiences engaged through sheer performative force.
Critically, The Good Liar earned mixed but appreciative notices upon release, with praise centering on the central duo. Reviewers described it as “irresistible” and “mesmerizing,” noting how McKellen and Mirren turn a potentially thin plot into a watchable, even elegant entertainment. The film’s 64% Rotten Tomatoes score reflects its polarizing elements—some called it cerebral without enough thrills, others lauded its old-fashioned charm—but audiences responded more warmly, often citing the leads’ chemistry as the reason to recommend it. It’s the kind of movie that lingers: not flashy or explosive, but quietly gripping, rewarding those who appreciate character-driven suspense over jump scares.
As Netflix prepares to remove The Good Liar from its catalog (amid a broader January 2026 exodus of titles), the film feels like a hidden gem rediscovered at just the right moment. In an age of algorithm-driven blockbusters, its measured pace and reliance on veteran actors offer a refreshing contrast. Whether you’re revisiting it for the umpteenth time or catching up before it vanishes, this is one last chance to savor the shadowy streets of London alongside two legends at the height of their powers. Stream it soon—because once it’s gone, the only thing left will be memories of that elegant, deceptive waltz between Roy and Betty.
