Netflix’s newest six-episode limited series Untamed is not your typical wilderness thriller. Set against the raw beauty of Yosemite National Park, the show begins with grandeur but quickly peels back its natural serenity to expose the rot that festers beneath. Gritty, patient, and emotionally devastating, Untamed doesn’t just flirt with darkness—it plunges headfirst into it.
While fans of small-town dramas like Virgin River might tune in expecting another warm, introspective escape, Untamed offers no such comfort. It’s not here to soothe. It’s here to haunt.
A Crash That Starts It All
The opening scene is breathtaking—and brutal. Two climbers on El Capitan witness a human body plummet from the summit. But this isn’t a climber’s tragedy. The corpse is tied in rope and riddled with bullet wounds. It’s murder, and it signals that the story we’re about to follow will be anything but straightforward.
That moment is when the park stops being scenery—and becomes something far more sinister.
Kyle Turner: Haunted By More Than a Case
Eric Bana gives a brooding, career-best performance as Special Agent Kyle Turner, a National Parks investigator brought in to unravel the mystery. But this isn’t a job he’s ready for—he’s grieving his son’s recent death, living out of his truck, and quietly unraveling.
Turner is not a hero in the traditional sense. He’s bitter, broken, and hiding from his own emotional wreckage. The deeper he dives into the case, the more he’s forced to confront not only the secrets of Yosemite, but those buried within himself.
As it turns out, the killer who ended his son’s life wasn’t brought to justice in a courtroom. Turner’s ex-wife orchestrated her own form of justice—and now the truth is threatening to destroy them both.
Nature as a Character
Where other series use scenic backdrops for beauty, Untamed weaponizes the wilderness. Yosemite is more than setting—it’s a character. Towering cliffs, mist-choked forests, and the quiet echo of nothingness work together to build tension that never really lets go.
This isn’t a place to heal. It’s a place to survive.
A Rookie With Her Own Ghosts
Alongside Turner is Naya Vasquez, a former LAPD officer trying to find her footing in a world that doesn’t trust her instincts yet. She’s fierce, idealistic, and carries her own past with quiet intensity. She’s not just Turner’s counterpart—she’s his conscience.
Their dynamic is built not on flirtation or banter, but friction and forced respect. Together, they navigate lies, grief, and a trail of clues that refuses to point in one direction.
Secrets That Refuse to Stay Buried
What begins as a murder investigation quickly branches into something larger: blackmail, betrayal, and vigilante justice disguised as silence. The dead woman at the center of it all, Lucy Cook, may have been many things—a victim, a witness, even an accomplice—but one thing is clear: she was running from someone powerful.
Her connection to Chief Ranger Paul Souter unravels a years-long coverup that reaches deep into the fabric of the park’s leadership. And when Turner finally confronts the truth, it isn’t triumphant. It’s shattering.
An Ending That Doesn’t Want to Make You Feel Better
By the finale, Turner knows everything—and he’s left with nothing. The killer is gone, the victims can’t be saved, and the woman he once loved has confessed to a crime of her own. The justice he sought is hollow, and the forest that once held answers now holds more questions.
He doesn’t walk away victorious. He walks away alone.
The Verdict
Untamed isn’t interested in being loved. It’s not here to be binged, quoted, or memed. It’s here to make you sit with discomfort, grief, and the parts of justice that never feel satisfying.
Eric Bana leads a cast that brings emotional weight to every line and silence. The cinematography is stunning but never showy. The story burns slow, sometimes too slow—but always with purpose.
So will Untamed uncover dark secrets or fade into predictability? The answer is clear: it reveals everything—and still leaves you unsettled.
If you’re ready for a thriller that trades shootouts for standoffs and happy endings for honest ones, Untamed is waiting.
Just be warned—it doesn’t let go.
