BREAKING: Netflix’s glossy new thriller, His & Hers, just dropped, and it cuts deep. Tessa Thompson and Jon Bernthal step into a marriage built on grief and guarded secrets. I screened it ahead of launch. The result is cool to the touch, sharp to the eye, and quieter than you might expect.
The marriage, the mystery, the mood
His & Hers follows a couple rebuilding after loss. The home is perfect, the smiles are practiced, and the truth keeps slipping through the cracks. The film leans into silence, side glances, and the weight of what is not said. It is a vibe-first experience, not a jump-scare machine.
The production is pristine. Rooms glow with soft light. Night scenes hum with tension. The score pulses beneath each scene like a slow heartbeat. You feel the hush before the storm, scene after scene.
Expect a patient burn. The film is more about the fracture inside a marriage, less about big twists.
Star power vs spark
Thompson gives a measured, inward turn. She holds pain in her posture and in her pauses. Bernthal plays warm, then wary. He shifts from steady to suspect with a small flicker of doubt. You can see the movie banking on their faces to carry the load.
Do they ignite together? Not always. Their scenes simmer, they rarely boil. The tension feels intentional, like two people who cannot reach each other. But as the mystery thickens, the lack of crackle keeps the pot from spilling over. For a couple at the core of a thriller, that matters.
The craft that shines
The direction keeps a glassy sheen. Every frame looks curated. The camera loves reflective surfaces, mirrors and windows, which doubles the theme of doubles. There is a careful rhythm at work. You sense a design to each reveal.
The puzzle that smolders
The mystery stays close to home, literally. Clues whisper instead of shout. When answers arrive, they are tidy. Some viewers will want more bite, more mess. The film chooses elegance over shock. That choice gives it taste, also distance.
- What lands: sleek visuals, controlled acting, a real sense of loss, a final image that sticks
- What lags: thin twists, limited heat between leads, tidy reveals, a pace that tests patience
How fans are reading it
Early fan chatter splits along the same fault line as the film. Supporters love the mood and the courage to stay small. They see Thompson doing fine-needle work, and Bernthal underplaying with care. Others want sparks and sharper edges. They come for a star pairing and expect fireworks. They get embers.
For date-night streaming, it works if the goal is to talk after, not gasp during. The film sets a tone, pours a drink, and lets you sit with discomfort. That is a choice. It will not satisfy thrill seekers who want a jolt every ten minutes.
Go in for the atmosphere and the performances. Do not go in hunting for a twisty maze.
What this signals for Netflix’s new-year slate
This move says a lot about where Netflix is starting the year. His & Hers is star-led, polished, adult, and moody. It is a flex of taste, not a chase for volume. But the split response also sends a warning. Gloss and talent bring attention. They do not guarantee heat.
If this is the template, expect more genre pieces that lean dramatic, with A-list faces and clean craft. It is prestige packaging for living-room viewing. The challenge will be adding juice to the engine. Audiences will show up for Thompson and Bernthal. They will stay when the mystery bites back.
Content themes include grief and marital strain. Plan your watch with that in mind.
The bottom line
His & Hers is a beautiful bruise of a film. It stares at a broken bond, and it does not blink. Thompson is precise. Bernthal is steady. The look is luxe. The mystery is modest. If you want a cool, controlled watch, press play tonight. If you need sparks and shocks, hold for the next drop. Either way, the conversation it sparks about love, loss, and secrets is real, and that is worth your time.
