By Robert Scucci
| Published 16 seconds ago

I have a running theory about Netflix, and it’s that the introduction of countless podcasts, many of which fall into the true crime wheelhouse, has created a demand for similar content. As you already know, Netflix has plenty of true crime docuseries that run the gamut from critically acclaimed masterpieces like Evil Genius (2018), to so-so entries like What Jennifer Did (2024), to controversial dramatizations in the Monster anthology.

Now, I can’t say that correlation necessarily means causation, but it certainly seems like anybody listening to true crime podcasts who has migrated to Netflix instead of whatever podcast app they used before has probably been pointed toward films like 2025’s The Paradise Murders, which is Lifetime TV’s attempt at hopping aboard the psychological thriller gravy train.

I can’t think of any other reason this abomination is currently sitting at #4 in the Netflix Top 10 for movies. It has to be algorithmic. People who used to listen to Last Podcast on the Left or Behind the Bastards are now letting their macabre preferences be known to the streaming giant, and Netflix seems to be grabbing whatever content it thinks might be adjacent to those tastes and throwing it into the feed. But I’m just a guy theorizing over here.

Netflix has so many solid psychological thrillers available right now, The Girl on the Train (2016), Side Effects (2013), Single White Female (1992), and the criminally underrated Pacific Heights (1990). But what do I know, because that’s also where you can watch punishers like The Glass House (2001). In other words, you can easily get lost looking for the perfect thriller to queue up on a rainy day. If I have any influence over my readers whatsoever, though, let this be your warning: The Paradise Murders is straight-up garbage.

Three Couples, Four Deaths, Zero Thrills

In The Paradise Murders, we’re introduced to Emma (Kayle Raelle) and Jake (Mo Sehgal), who are finally taking their long-overdue honeymoon. Emma is a workaholic who needs to disconnect for a week, and Jake books the trip to the resort she used to visit all the time as a kid. Upon arrival, they meet a number of interesting characters, including Sarah (Taija James) and her outwardly aggressive husband Tom (Christopher Dover). Emma and Jake immediately hit it off with Sarah, but they have their reservations about Tom, who seems like a loose cannon waiting for the right incident to set him off.

We’re also introduced to a third couple, Isla (Boyana Avdjieva) and Jarrod (Richard Goss), who only seem to know how to act suspiciously and always show up at the worst possible times, making them look guilty from the second they first appear on screen. Joining the mix is Lee (James Wiles), a resort employee who appears to have developed an attraction to Emma, who feels a connection to him because of her fond memories of the resort.

When Sarah dies under mysterious circumstances, everybody immediately becomes a suspect. Jake falls under scrutiny because he was missing from his room around the time Sarah was found dead by the pool. It’s also revealed that Sarah’s diary might hold the key to identifying her killer, and all signs point to Tom, who, despite being the primary suspect in his wife’s murder, is somehow still allowed to wander the resort and catch some rays.

None Of This Makes Sense

In fact, that’s the entire problem with The Paradise Murders. There’s a possible murder at a luxury resort, and everybody just goes about their business as if nothing happened. Sure, it’s suggested that occupancy is lower after the incident, which conveniently means fewer extras wandering around to complicate things, but the guests who are still there don’t behave like real people.

For one thing, Emma and Jake become convinced that all flights home have been canceled and they’re stuck at the resort until everything gets sorted out. Then where did everybody else go? Did they just walk home? More importantly, everybody should be considered a suspect. Jake doesn’t even have an alibi for where he was when Sarah was murdered.

Statistically speaking, Tom is the obvious suspect, yet he comes and goes as he pleases. Emma, meanwhile, gets caught snooping by hotel staff and detectives alike. At face value, her intentions are pure, but she’s still interfering with an active murder investigation, only to be told to go back to her room without consequence when she’s done.

And don’t even get me started on Isla and Jarrod. They’re constantly acting menacing, even when there’s no reason to, and the whole thing feels like a giant red herring. For a hot minute, I thought maybe they were actually the heroes trying to warn everybody about the “real killer.” Don’t get this twisted, that’s not what happens, and the real ending is somehow even worse.

Why The Paradise Murders is streaming on Netflix, a company that could afford to spend half a billion dollars on Stranger Things Season 5, is the question of the year for me. Are they so hard up for content that they’re scraping made-for-TV movies from Lifetime to fill out the catalog? Are psychological thrillers really that hot now that true crime shows like Last Podcast on the Left have firmly planted themselves in the streaming landscape? I’m sure there are countless moving parts involved in licensing movies, but this one is such a proverbial turd in the punchbowl that it makes me wonder who thought it belonged in Netflix’s lineup.

Or maybe I’m just getting cynical in my old age and have been spoiled by way too many great thrillers, which is why The Paradise Murders is performing so well on Netflix right now. That’s the real mystery I’m trying to solve, and this might be the one that claims my life when I dig too deep and find answers to questions I shouldn’t be asking.

THE PARADISE MURDERS SCORE