Sarah Snook's new thriller is a blistering portrayal of motherhood. It will enrage you.

Just in time for your holiday binge line-up, a new twisty suburban thriller has dropped, and this one will leave you with some big feelings — especially if you're a mum.

Binge's limited series All Her Fault is a mystery based on the 2021 novel by Irish author, Andrea Mara.

The plot follows wealthy mother Marissa Irvine, played by Succession star Sarah Snook, who arrives to pick up her son Milo from a playdate only to find the person at the door has no idea what she's talking about.

Milo has vanished and yep, this story is every parent's worst nightmare — so tread carefully.

The frantic search unravels a twisted history of family secrets, involving Marissa's husband, Peter (The White Lotus' Jake Lacy), and the family who hosted the playdate, school mum Jenny (Dakota Fanning) and her husband Richie (Thomas Cocquerel).

Watch the trailer. Post continues after video.

From the get-go, I was hooked on this series. It's clearly crafted to keep you watching with constant cliffhangers, so you can't help but compulsively continue bingeing to find out what happens next.

The series is created by a team of women, and you can really tell. The story was adapted for television by creator/writer Megan Gallagher, with the series directed by Minkie Spiro and Kate Dennis.

As the show's name suggests, All Her Fault shines a harsh light on the immense pressure and blame placed on women, especially mothers.

The limited series offers some truly powerful social commentary on how quickly we blame women. And how the blame is shifted from one woman, or one mother, to another — but rarely to the men who are the children's fathers.

In the case of Marissa, she is quickly blamed for Milo's disappearance because the phone number that texted her about the playdate was different to the digits Jenny gave her.

"Why didn't you just check the number??" Marissa's husband Peter hisses during one tense moment, before pleading, "I'm sorry, you're a great mum, you're a great mum."

Image: Binge.

This is a thread throughout the series, as most of the fathers blame the mothers for basically everything — as if these men are simply innocent bystanders in their own children's upbringing. When the blame shifts over to Jenny, there is virtually no mention of her husband. "What was she thinking? She wasn't!" rants an announcer on the radio.

Of course, Sarah Snook is exceptional in this. She beautifully captures the agony and desperation of Marissa, as she spirals over her son Milo and starts to suspect her husband is hindering her life more than helping it.

Speaking of, Jake Lacy has truly perfected the 'douchey guy you instantly hate' archetype with another role where he quickly becomes the character you loathe the most. He's great at it. Tens across the board.

The entire cast is brilliant — especially The Bear's Abby Elliott and Insecure's Jay Ellis — and I'll make a special shoutout to Michael Peña's Detective Alcaraz, who represents a rare 'good guy' (an actually thoughtful father, what a concept) in a sea of comically bad dads.

But it was Fanning's Jenny that pierced me straight through my chest. She has some of the most profound lines in the series, as she struggles with a husband, Richie, a man who has no interest in equally sharing parenting responsibilities.

Image: Binge.

At a breaking point, Jenny tells Richie that she's tired of being the main parent. "I'm the default parent and you're the substitute," she softly tells him.

"It's never equal. Your time off is to do your own thing and be your own person... my time off is to grocery shop, clean the house and do laundry. So I didn't actually have any time off."

The concept of the "default parent" was something I haven't seen captured like this on mainstream TV. Along with having her own career in publishing, Jenny handles the invisible labour: scheduling playdates, managing nannies, doing the laundry and running the household.

This means that when one cog in this system falters, she is the one held responsible. The fun dad? Not his problem.

In a raw chat with Marissa, they bond over bristling when their husbands call them 'amazing' for doing so much. "I'm tired of being amazing. I don't want to be amazing anymore," Jenny sadly states.

It all works wonderfully to encapsulate the feeling of the burden of being a mother, a largely thankless job but one that comes with a weight of responsibility — the kind a father is never expected to carry.

Image: Binge.

This is something that isn't just exclusively levelled between genders. In All Her Fault, it is other mothers who are also casting judgements on each other, as exemplified in busy body mum Sarah, played perfectly by Australian actress Melanie Vallejo.

With all the good stuff in mind, All Her Fault does have pacing issues at times. It starts strong but the series starts to wimper by the end of episode three and the twists start to feel slightly convoluted, but thankfully, it finds its footing by the end.

The series is not always subtle with its messaging. The dialogue is mostly nuanced, but there are moments where I had to be like 'We get it! People are mean to mums!' and I muffled my laughter when Marissa passed a billboard that literally read "Can you really have it all?"

Add to this, the eight-episode series is not exactly breaking new ground in depicting mostly white women living in an affluent neighbourhood in the thriller TV space.

That said, it makes some bold choices in its depiction of motherhood, which follows an encouraging trend in 2025, with struggling mothers at the forefront of Jennifer Lawrence's Die, My Love and Rose Byrne's If I Had Legs I'd Kick You. Obviously, motherhood is not a new concept in Hollywood, but these stories being told through a horror and thriller lens (rather than a shiny Hallmark movie) is something worth celebrating.

And notably in All Her Fault, it would have been easy for Snook and Fanning's characters to turn on each other — and in lesser shows, this happens — but it was refreshing to watch them create a bond from the shared trauma (and well, hatred for their sh**ty husbands).

They find solidarity in one another, showing that out of unimaginable tragedy, some good can come.

You can stream all eight episodes of All Her Fault on Binge.

Feature image: Binge.