Streaming quietly on Netflix since early 2025, To Catch a Killer (originally released theatrically in 2023) has surged in popularity, with viewers flooding reviews and social discussions with five-star praise. This intense psychological crime thriller, directed by Damián Szifron in his English-language debut, delivers a slow-burn nightmare that starts with a horrifying mass shooting and spirals into a tense cat-and-mouse hunt. Fans hail it as one of the platform’s standout additions, drawing inevitable parallels to classics like The Silence of the Lambs and The Bone Collector for its atmospheric dread, sharp profiling, and unflinching look at human darkness. It’s not just a procedural—it’s a suffocating exploration of trauma, societal failures, and the blurred line between hunter and hunted that grips you until the final frame.
The film opens on a frigid New Year’s Eve in Baltimore, where fireworks light up the night—until they don’t. A lone sniper perched in a high-rise unleashes chaos, methodically gunning down 29 partygoers across the city’s Inner Harbor from multiple vantage points before detonating explosives to erase his traces. The attack is precise, random in victims yet calculated in execution, sparking immediate panic and a massive manhunt. Among the first responders is Eleanor Falco (Shailene Woodley), a perceptive but deeply troubled beat cop whose instincts shine amid the carnage. She notices subtle details others miss, like urging colleagues to film fleeing crowds in case the shooter blends in.
Enter FBI Special Agent Geoffrey Lammark (Ben Mendelsohn), the chief investigator brought in to lead the case. Lammark, a seasoned profiler with his own burdens—including a personal life marked by quiet struggles—spots something unique in Eleanor. Despite her rejected FBI application due to psychological concerns (stemming from past trauma, including depression and suicidal ideation), he recruits her to the task force. Lammark believes her “tortured psyche” gives her an edge in understanding the killer’s mind—a modern echo of Clarice Starling’s dynamic with Hannibal Lecter. Together with team member Agent Jack McKenzie (Jovan Adepo), they navigate bureaucratic pressures, media frenzy, and political interference while piecing together clues.
The investigation unfolds deliberately, building dread through meticulous procedural work rather than constant action. The killer’s pattern defies easy categorization: no manifesto, no clear ideology at first, just escalating attacks that target public spaces and leave authorities scrambling. Clues emerge slowly—surveillance footage showing a vegan diet (noted from a mall incident), access to old military-grade weapons, and a profile pointing to a white male outsider shaped by isolation and resentment. Flashbacks and interrogations reveal layers of societal critique: gun culture, mental health neglect, media sensationalism, and institutional hypocrisy. Szifron weaves these elements without heavy-handed preaching, letting the tension arise from the characters’ frustrations and moral ambiguities.
Woodley’s Eleanor anchors the film with a raw, internalized performance. Haunted by her demons, she channels personal pain into empathy for the perpetrator—not sympathy, but a chilling recognition of shared brokenness. Mendelsohn brings gravitas and subtlety to Lammark, portraying a man weary from years in the system yet fiercely committed, his quiet authority contrasting Eleanor’s intensity. Their partnership crackles with unspoken understanding, elevated by strong supporting work from Adepo and Ralph Ineson as the enigmatic antagonist Dean Possey, whose reveal and backstory add tragic depth rather than cartoonish evil.
Visually, the film excels in creating a cold, oppressive atmosphere. Cinematographer Javier Juliá captures Baltimore’s wintry desolation—snow-covered streets, stark high-rises, dimly lit slaughterhouses—mirroring the emotional chill. The opening sequence is particularly harrowing, shot with realistic chaos that feels all too plausible in today’s world. The score and sound design amplify the unease, with long silences punctuated by sudden violence that hits without warning.
At nearly two hours, the pacing rewards patience: early momentum from the attack gives way to methodical sleuthing, red herrings, and psychological depth. Twists arrive organically, reframing earlier events and forcing reevaluation of motives. The climax delivers a tense, intimate confrontation that feels earned, blending action with emotional payoff. While some critics note derivative elements or rushed resolutions, audiences embrace its strengths—character focus, atmospheric immersion, and unflinching realism—often bingeing it in one sitting and emerging shaken.
In a streaming sea of formulaic thrillers, To Catch a Killer stands out for its intelligence and restraint. It doesn’t rely on gore or cheap shocks but builds suffocating suspense through insight and humanity’s darker corners. Viewers call it addictive, obsessive, and profoundly unsettling—the kind of film that lingers, prompting late-night discussions about justice, empathy, and the systems that fail us all. If you’re in the mood for a descent into darkness that echoes the genre’s greats while feeling urgently contemporary, this is Netflix’s hidden gem. Stream it now, but brace yourself: once it tightens its grip, escape isn’t easy.
