After a psychop killed one of his best friends, Matt dropped his pointed cowl, set aside his billy club and stopped being Daredevil.

“A line was crossed,” he tells someone. “I felt like I lost the privilege. And despite the good that I was doing, I was causing damage.”

Matt still fights the good fight, of course—just not quite as literally. As a lawyer, he defends those he believes to be innocent. He does his own little part to battle New York City corruption. And he still promises to keep an eye on Wilson Fisk … the city’s newly elected mayor.

And Fisk? He, too, has changed. Or so he says.

He’s no longer that brutally cruel criminal mastermind known as Kingpin. “A rich man, by his very nature, is self-serving,” he says. “A mayor serves his city.” And he has promised the voters, and himself, that he’ll serve them the best that he can. He’s done earning blood money. He’s through killing his enemies. And his longtime enmity with Daredevil? Perhaps the two can finally bury the hatchet—somewhere else besides each other’s heads.

“I’m not that man anymore,” Fisk swears to Matt.

But change is hard. Especially if part of you doesn’t really want to change.

The Devil You Know …

The new title sequence for Daredevil: Born Again features a series of crumbling statues, which fits: It’s not long before cracks in the facades of these “changed” men begin to show.

Fisk may want to improve New York. His voters would certainly like to believe so, and they’re all too willing to push aside his blood-red past and put their faith in his no-nonsense, can-do spirit.

But that past has generated its share of skeptics, too—Matt Murdock among them. “Why can I not shake the feeling that you’re trying to game the system?” he tells Fisk. And when those skeptics stand in the way of Fisk’s idea of progress, it’s easy to slip into some bad habits: a threat here, a bribe there, and a little blood just might grease the wheels of progress. Fisk has always been able to get his way, after all. And he’s never been one to worry much about bruised egos … or broken bones.

Matt has his own issues. He’d love to follow the rule of law—which, as a lawyer, he’s determined to make work for his clients. But sometimes those rules can be twisted. The law can be bent. Sometimes, the bad guys wear badges, and the good guys have nowhere to turn—except to an outside-the-law vigilante like Daredevil.

Matt and Fisk believe they’re polar opposites of each other. But they share more than they’d care to admit. And what they share, in Born Again, grows a bit more: Heather Glenn is Matt’s new girlfriend—and Wilson Fisk’s marriage counselor.

Small world.

The Road to Hell’s Kitchen

Around the time that the Avengers were tangling with the AI monstrosity Ultron and Ant-Man was fighting Yellowjacket on a toy train, a different sort of Marvel superhero started stalking the mean streets of Hell’s Kitchen—and the boulevards of Netflix.

Netflix’s Daredevil was grim, gritty and rated TV-MA—the equivalent of an R-rating in the world of movies. Blood was spattered. Curse words were hurled. Was the show good? Aesthetically, yes, and it brought in a welcome element of faith. (Matt Murdock’s Catholicism is a critical part of his character, and a bulwark of his no-kill ethos.) But the three-season story arc was brutal, too, and hardly the stuff that families could watch together.

Netflix closed out the series in 2018, turning the rights over to Disney—the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s corporate overlord. And while Daredevil (played engagingly by Charlie Cox) has showed up in some MCU properties since, Daredevil: Born Again marks his return as a true front-line superhero.

And the show is a return to form—for good and ill.

Born Again feels more like Matt Reeves’ The Batman than the MCU’s Avengers: There are no multiversal or extraterrestrial threats—just a lot of crime, corruption and Kingpin to deal with. The show is aimed at adults who like multilayered storytelling and complex characters.

But it is, of course, more “adult” in other ways, too.

Bad language, including f- and s-words, is strong and pervasive. Despite Matt’s Catholicism (which, in the early episodes, at least, seems a bit downplayed by Disney), the character has no inhibitions about diving into bed with someone else if the opportunity strikes.

And speaking of striking … wow, is this show violent.

Daredevil may not kill. But sometimes he seems to skate by that scruple on a technicality. He’ll break bones, crush skulls and shed an incredible amount of blood in bringing his foes his own painful form of “justice.” And while Wilson Fisk is playing nice in the early going of this series, you just know that’s not going to last. The people who die here might feel like they got off easy.

Matt Murdock may think he’s changed. Wilson Fisk may think he’s changed. But Disney+’s Daredevil: Born Again? It feels much the same as its Netflix predecessor—if not a bit bloodier. And for families who trust Disney to give them family friendly fare, that’s hardly a welcome return.

(Editor’s Note: Plugged In is rarely able to watch every episode of a given series for review. As such, there’s always a chance that you might see a problem that we didn’t. If you notice content that you feel should be included in our review, send us an email at letters@pluggedin.com, or contact us via Facebook or Instagram, and be sure to let us know the episode number, title and season so that we can check it out. )

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But lately, the team hasn’t been living up to its name. The highest-paid player, Travis Bugg, embarrasses them with foul-mouthed interviews off-court and poor leadership on-court. All-star Marcus Winfield still plays well, but he’s mentally tapped out from the franchise otherwise.

So when Waves President Cam Gordon (Isla’s eldest brother) is forced to step down because of a drug problem, it falls to the rest of the family to make some changes.

Next eldest, Ness, is the only Gordon who can actually play the sport. In fact, his dad even drafted him for half a season. But then he got demoted to a league in the Philippines, which ended in jail after Ness tried to bribe a club bouncer with Ecstasy. He is the Waves’ general manager now, but he’s certainly not smart enough to run the whole shebang.

Isla’s younger half-brother Sandy Gordon is smart, driven and good with numbers. That’s why he’s Chief Financial Officer for the organization. But he knows nothing about the game itself and wouldn’t even know where to begin recruiting new players.

So, the presidency falls to Isla. It’s actually a pretty good choice. Although she’s been the “Coordinator of Charitable Endeavors” the last several years, Isla loves basketball and actually knows quite a bit about the sport and the business behind it. But since her dad was “old-school” (read sexist), he never gave her a shot. So she acted out, partying it up until she hit rock bottom. Then, after her dad died, Cam gave her the charity position to restore some of her dignity and family honor.

Now, Cam is counting on Isla to run point. But with problematic players, angry sponsors and unruly brothers—including a newly discovered other half-brother, Jackie Moreno—Isla’s got her work cut out for her.

Feinting and Flapping

Netflix’s Running Point, starring Kate Hudson, is somewhat based on the life of Jeanie Buss, president of the Los Angeles Lakers, who, like Isla, had to prove herself as the female leader of a male-dominated franchise after her father passed away, states The Hollywood Reporter.

The show sort of gives off Ted Lasso vibes. But instead of being brought together by a wholesome coach from Texas, the Waves are united by a party-girl-turned-girlboss. That isn’t to say that Kate Hudson isn’t portraying a strong lead, just that her character isn’t nearly as endearing as Jason Sudeikis’ Ted Lasso.

And the show itself has just as many problems as Ted Lasso, maybe even more. We see a couple of sex scenes, people take their clothes off, the Gordon’s dad was involved in multiple extramarital affairs, Sandy Gordon is in a same-sex relationship, and Isla lives with her fiancé, whom she’s been engaged to for three years.

Language is also foul; players are often crass; and more than one character makes some really derogatory, sexist remarks. Not to mention the abundant drug use of Cam Gordon, which acts as the show’s inciting incident.

Hudson says the show is more family comedy than rom-com, but most families are probably gonna want to steer clear of this TV-MA rated series.

(Editor’s Note: Plugged In is rarely able to watch every episode of a given series for review. As such, there’s always a chance that you might see a problem that we didn’t. If you notice content that you feel should be included in our review, send us an email at letters@pluggedin.com, or contact us via Facebook or Instagram, and be sure to let us know the episode number, title and season so that we can check it out.)

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In fact, the state’s been in the grips of depression ever since World War I wrapped up. While the rest of the country enjoys the “Roaring Twenties,” the ranchers in Montana are struggling to survive. Drought and locust infestations have caused the little remaining grass to be dried up and eaten, leaving little left for the thousands of grazing animals still needing food. Disease plagues the cattle who do find their cud. And even if that weren’t the case, the demand for agricultural products has fallen, meaning there’s less money in ranching anyway.

It’s left a lot of ranchers in a desperate situation, including Jacob Dutton, the surviving brother of 1883’s James Dutton and current owner of Yellowstone Dutton Ranch. He’s the state’s livestock commissioner, and his decisions during these trying times aren’t leaving everyone happy ranchers—particularly, Banner Creighton and his fellow shepherds, who feel that their sheep are being overshadowed in favor of cattlemen. If their sheep don’t get the grass they need, they’ll certainly die.

But the Creightons aren’t the only threats. Plenty of other players think that the decade is the perfect time to pounce on all the Duttons hold dear, such as businessman Donald Whitfield. He thinks that, what with the increase in automobile ownership, Montana’s the perfect place for tourism growth … if only ranchers like the Duttons weren’t in the way. That’s why Whitfield’s taken the liberty of prepaying those property taxes James is behind on—and if James doesn’t repay him soon, he’ll take their land for himself.

Where the Deer and the Antelope Fight to the Death

Paramount+’s 1923 is the sequel to 1883, both of which stand as prequels to Yellowstone. And two things remain constant throughout. First, the Dutton family owns its Montana ranch. And second, they’ll fight to the death for it.

For fans of the franchise, 1923 will be a welcome addition to their viewing repertoire—one that’ll give additional insight into the callous family business. The inclusion of Harrison Ford and Helen Mirren will certainly draw the attention of others, too.

But, if its older counterparts didn’t warn you enough, viewers can expect a whole lot of blood-soaked violence, even including onscreen male rape and the physical abuse of a female prostitute. Likewise, full-frontal female nudity is frequent and salacious. And these ranchers don’t rein in their language, either.

And if all that wasn’t enough, a Catholic school for Native Americans is filled to the brim with priests and nuns who don’t mind abusing the kids under their care.

So while Whitfield might think the Dutton ranch is the perfect spot for tourism, we’d advise you book your vacation elsewhere.

(Editor’s Note: Plugged In is rarely able to watch every episode of a given series for review. As such, there’s always a chance that you might see a problem that we didn’t. If you notice content that you feel should be included in our review, send us an email at letters@pluggedin.com, or contact us via Facebook or Instagram, and be sure to let us know the episode number, title and season so that we can check it out.)

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Everyone around her–doctors, therapists, friends and even her own husband–tell her that she attempted suicide. Medical records confirm this. But Sophie can’t remember why. 

Why would she want to end her own life, when it seems so perfect? Her husband, James, is an investment manager that’s afforded them an easy, affluent lifestyle. Her best friend, Caroline, is wild but seemingly consistent. She owns top-of-the-line clothes and appliances. She volunteers at a hospital. I mean, the only thing she really must worry about is how to keep herself busy. 

Someone like that wouldn’t want to end their life. Right? 

Unless, of course, that life is a lie. 

The problem is that Sophie can only remember small details of her daily routines before the “accident.” Large memories, especially memories about who she really is, have vanished. It’s like she’s living in someone else’s body, going about her day in a haze. 

That all starts to change when Sophie attends a neurofeedback session–therapy that’s supposed to jog her memory and help her piece together the shards of her reality. And the more she uncovers, the more her idyllic existence proves to be a muddled falsehood. 

Tess Who?

Turns out, Sophie’s forgotten life is complicated. Very complicated. She’s also a woman named Tess, in fact. And in Season Two, Sophie sets up shop in London, where “Tess” once lived. She still can’t remember why she nearly died, but she knows it has something to do with another mysterious death: her mother. And Sophie believes London may hold some very important clues.

Her first task: to link up with an old lover named Eliza Huntley. Sophie/Tess learns that the Huntleys are moneyed members of the British aristocracy, awash in high fashion, real estate and scandal. Turns out that Tess worked at the Huntleys horse stables years before, where she and Eliza connected.

But while Eliza’s never forgotten the ensuing heartbreak, Tess has blanked on pretty much everything. Not the easiest set of conditions to reingratiate oneself into one of Europe’s wealthiest families. But given that more than a few all-too-literal skeletons litter the Huntley closet, she grows to suspect that someone in the family orbit may have killed her mother.

And who better to help with her investigation than an actual investigative reporter? Callum Walsh has been working for years to unlock the sordid story surrounding the Huntleys. Tess just might be the key.

When the Surface Seems Shallow, Is It? 

Surface, Apple TV+’s long-simmering series, is founded on the mysterious. 

This TV-MA thriller has a few things going for it. It’s a well-cast show, and it’s pinned to a pervasive mystery that continues well past the first episode. The draw here is, of course, the fact that the main character has no idea what is going on in her own life–and each episode attempts to reveal a bit more about the truth. 

But truth is subjective here, as it seems no one can be trusted. Including the show itself.

The world that Surface sinks its viewers into is one filled with sex (including same-sex relationships), violence and murder. Foul language (including the f-word) are part of the dialogue. So far, sexual scenes are shot at angles that only insinuate what’s happening, and blood and trauma are experienced in flashbacks. But as this is in fact an MA-rated show, there’s no telling what else may lie underneath the surface of future episodes.

(Editor’s Note: Plugged In is rarely able to watch every episode of a given series for review. As such, there’s always a chance that you might see a problem that we didn’t. If you notice content that you feel should be included in our review, send us an email at letters@pluggedin.com, or contact us via Facebook or Instagram, and be sure to let us know the episode number, title and season so that we can check it out.)

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That’s the number of confirmed deaths that occurred during what becomes known as Zero Day—the day when, for a single minute, someone managed to hijack and shut off the United States’ computer systems. For one minute, subway cars collided with each other; critical life support turned off; airplanes were left without communications.

And for one minute, everyone’s phone displayed the same haunting message:

This will happen again.

The U.S. government has no leads on who the perpetrators might be. But they’re quick to set up the Zero Day Commission, filled with the best and brightest, to investigate the attack. It’s given powers of surveillance, search and seizure, and “if necessary, even the suspension of habeas corpus.” In other words, the temporary commission is unmatched in its power.

And as both Congress and President Mitchell approve its creation, the question on everyone’s mind is: Who could lead such a thing?

The answer is the former President, George Mullen, liked by most across both parties and able to rally American citizens with moving speeches. And as he accepts the position, he promises to the cameras that they’ll do things by the book and make sure the truth comes to light.

But the political landscape is far different from when George was in office. Even his own daughter worries that it’ll eat him and his patriotic optimism alive. And she’s not so sure that anyone, even the well-liked George, can stay true to his word when given that much power.

And that’s not even mentioning how George may be losing his mind.

Left in the Dark, Look for the Light

Add Zero Day to the growing list of entertainment properties looking to capitalize on America’s divided political sphere. Because at its root, this show dives deep into division.

When Zero Days hits, it’s not long before protestors start throwing out ideas as to who is really responsible: socialists, Russian sympathizers, insurance companies. And, throughout the show, it seems Americans across the political spectrum are all complicit in making a bad situation worse.

And that’s part of the point of Zero Day. No one denies that the attack was devastating. But with no true enemy to blame, it’s not long before people start offering scapegoats—and as all that finger pointing turns to paranoia, it threatens to do more damage to the country than the attack itself ever could.

That’s a fair warning, and it’s a reality George wrestles with in every decision he makes. Because although there’s no doubt that George wants the truth, he’s not so sure that it’s what the country needs. Even if he finds the true perpetrators, down to the name and number, will Americans be ready to accept it and move forward—or will he just be the one granting a whiff of blood to hungry sharks?

While we’re on the topic of blood, viewers should note that there’s a bit of violence here: someone gets tortured, someone is kidnapped and drowned, and a group of people are shot and killed. And as far as other content issues, while we don’t see anything critical, a couple people take off their clothes. And you’re sure to hear a handful of f-words in each episode, too.

On Zero Day, America went dark. It’s George’s job to restore the light—both literally and symbolically. But with those content concerns, you may find that task harder to do than expected.

(Editor’s Note: Plugged In is rarely able to watch every episode of a given series for review. As such, there’s always a chance that you might see a problem that we didn’t. If you notice content that you feel should be included in our review, send us an email at letters@pluggedin.com, or contact us via Facebook or Instagram, and be sure to let us know the episode number, title and season so that we can check it out.)

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Some folks might wish their knees would twinge when Jack Reacher nears their city limits. He’s like a thundercloud: Big, powerful and impossible to miss. And once he’s in town, it’s too late: The storm’s just about to break.

Big Guy, Big Problems

It’s not that Reacher goes looking for trouble; well, not often, anyway. He travels from town to town, stopping in for a piece of pie here, buying an old vinyl record there. He calls himself a hobo, and he lives his life without strings: no family, no real friends, not even a Facebook account.

Weird how trouble always seems to know where he’s heading.

In Season Three of Prime Video’s Reacher (based on Lee Child’s book Persuader), our hulking hero goes undercover to investigate … a rug importer. That’s right, Zachary Beck imports rugs. But that’s not all authorities believe he’s involved in. Might he be smuggling in drugs? Reacher means to find out.

But it won’t be easy. Not only must he live at Beck’s well-armed, heavily guarded compound, he must partner with the DEA. And as a rule, Reacher doesn’t like to partner with strangers. Moreover, Reacher’s after different quarry. Seems that Beck is working with a guy from Reacher’s past—a former military intelligence officer named Quinn. Back in the day, Quinn moonlighted as a spy, selling secrets to the bad guys. And he just happens to be one of the toughest, meanest, bloodiest hombres Reacher knows.

And trust me, Reacher has known plenty.

Reach for the Why

Reacher began his long, bloody career in Lee Child’s 1997 novel Killing Floor. He’s since fronted another 25 books and been the cornerstone of two aptly named movies: Jack Reacher and Jack Reacher: Never Go Back.

Those movies starred Tom Cruise, who at 5-foot-7 doesn’t quite measure up—literally—to the massive character Child envisioned. The Prime Video show (the first season of which was based on Killing Floor) seeks to correct that, trading out Cruise’s charismatic hero for Alan Ritchson’s glowering, hulking, straight-faced killer.

And it’s not just Reacher who’s bigger these days: The problems are, too.

Cruise’s Jack Reacher films were both rated PG-13. Primes’s reboot, if it were a movie and not a television show, would be rated a hard, bloody R.

People die with some frequency, and often in some really horrific ways. (A Season One victim was stripped naked and nailed to his own wall.) Even those that don’t die suffer nasty, wince-inducing injuries. We see and hear bones snap. Fisticuffs can leave loads of people bloodied and bruised. Knives cut. Bullets fly. If the character Reacher is a harbinger of storm, his clouds don’t come with rain, but blood.

Profanity blows in on the winds of this Amazon storm, too, with the occasional f-word and frequent s-word howling through the speakers. We see nudity and sensuality as well, though our characters rarely have much leisure time.

You have to ask how unlucky Jack Reacher has to be: Trouble seems to follow the guy. And from what I can see, some of that trouble might go straight through the screen.

(Editor’s Note: Plugged In is rarely able to watch every episode of a given series for review. As such, there’s always a chance that you might see a problem that we didn’t. If you notice content that you feel should be included in our review, send us an email at letters@pluggedin.com, or contact us via Facebook or Instagram, and be sure to let us know the episode number, title and season so that we can check it out.)

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And if you happened to be on Wiskayok High School women’s soccer team in 1996, that phrase might be hauntingly accurate.

The Yellowjackets were once a normal (albeit above-average) group of New Jersey soccer players. They performed at the top of their league, went to wild high school parties, became victims of a tragic plane crash in the Canadian wilderness, and eventually devolved into a murderous cannibalistic pagan clan before their rescue.  

Okay, perhaps The Yellowjackets aren’t so normal after all.

You see something strange happened in the Canadian woods. Before the crash, they all fell into some nice stereotypical types: Jackie, the popular girl; Shauna the sidekick; Taissa the bully; Van the goalie; Natalie the burnout; Misty the outcast; and Lottie, the quiet one. And then the crash happened and suddenly Taissa is sleepwalking; Misty is amputating someone’s leg; Lottie is having prophetic visions; and the girls are performing occult-like rituals in the wilderness.

The girls were eventually rescued. But 25 years later, the remaining ex-Yellowjackets still have not transitioned back into normalcy. Though they certainly try their best.

Since coming out of the woods alive, Shuana is now a housewife and mother, Natalie graduated from a drug and alcohol rehab center, Misty works as a nurse, and Taissa is running for the New Jersey Senate.

Unfortunately, these façades are fragile.

Reporters and detectives begin to suspect deeply nefarious actions related to the Yellowjacket’s Canadian wilderness activities. And the women will do anything to hide the dark secrets from their stint in the woods. Even if it means unleashing the darkness still lurking inside of them.

…As a Bee Produces Honey

Literary critics say that William Golding wrote Lord of the Flies while observing school-aged boys at his teaching job. Concluding that these unruly children were capable of savagery, Golding penned his famous novel, which suggests that even little choir boys are capable of murder and destruction. Golding even asserted that “Man produces evil as a bee produces honey.”

I imagine Ashley Lyle and Bart Nickerson (creators of Yellowjackets) hold an equally pessimistic view of human nature. After all, their plane-crash-prompted narrative about the erosion of civilized behavior in adolescents seems to mirror Golding’s premise. And perhaps Golding’s chilling comment about man’s propensity for evil inspired their series’ title.

However, unlike the novel where at least one boy preserves his humanity, Yellowjackets seems to suggest that pure evil waits to be unleashed in everyone. And the series’ content speaks volumes about this perspective.

 The narrative depicts the teenage girls as bloodthirsty warriors. These young women commit murder, participate in cannibalism and allow the blood of their friends to spill liberally. And their adult counterparts are not much better, continuing to participate in violence to conceal the skeletons in their closets.

Man Produces Evil…

Emmy nominated for “Outstanding Drama Series” in 2022 and 2024 and renewed for a third season in 2025, the show clearly has public allure. After all, Yellowjackets asks compelling questions about human nature. But the show pulls no punches when depicting the fragility of these social bonds.

People and animals are brutally killed, dismembered and eaten, all of which are on full display. The girls in the wilderness practice occultist rituals and discuss making human sacrifices. Someone deals with an unplanned pregnancy and attempts abortion. Someone else considers suicide. Characters in both heterosexual and homosexual relationships engage in physical romantic affection and extra-marital affairs. And harsh language, including the f-word, “b–ch” and misuses of God’s name, is heard throughout the series. And all of this takes place with very few suggestions of hope.

You see, the thematic problem with shows like Yellowjackets is not its depiction of sin. I’d go so far as to say that Yellowjackets depicts evil in a manner that is frighteningly accurate to our world. Unfortunately, it fails to identify the solution. As Christ-followers, we recognize that the Good News begins with sin, but it culminates in redemption from that sin.

So does man produce evil as a bee produces honey? If you hold the same worldview that TV shows like Yellowjackets depict, you might wholeheartedly agree.

Thankfully, Scripture offers a worldview that recognizes genuine evil but identifies a Savior to rescue us from it.

(Editor’s Note: Plugged In is rarely able to watch every episode of a given series for review. As such, there’s always a chance that you might see a problem that we didn’t. If you notice content that you feel should be included in our review, send us an email at letters@pluggedin.com, or contact us via Facebook or Instagram, and be sure to let us know the episode number, title and season so that we can check it out.)

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And if it’s a shocking, twist-and-turns tragedy that audiences want, Burden of Guilt definitely fits the bill. Through a series of interviews and archival footage, this docuseries tells the story of a woman with a troubled past searching for her brother’s killer.

Tracyraquel Berns was only a toddler when her infant brother, Matthew, was found dead, and Tracy has spent her whole life believing she accidentally threw him from his crib and killed him. But 25 years after Matthew’s death, new information comes to light, and Tracy is left questioning all that she thought she knew. Was it really her fault? Or was there something more nefarious going on?

CRACKING THE COLD CASE

True crime can be a tricky beast to tackle. At its best, it tells stories of victims finding justice and loved ones finding closure. At its worst, the victims are exploited for shock value, and the grief of loved ones is twisted into cheap entertainment. A tragedy that turned a family’s life inside out becomes something to play in the background while you do your laundry.

Burden of Guilt, thankfully, leans toward the better side of true crime. The series is based on a podcast of the same name, about which the creators wrote, “It was our goal to tell [Tracy’s] story for the first time. We wanted people to understand the level of bravery and personal sacrifice it took to expose what really happened.”

Tracy drives the docuseries by telling her own story in her own words. The effects of Matthew’s death are stated as facts rather than overly sensationalized, and the details are relayed with as much taste as possible. No gory images or extensive, shock-inducing descriptions to be found here.

There’s a strong value of life present, too. Despite being only four months old at the time of his death, Matthew is treated with as much respect as any adult. When Tracy resurrects his case after 25 years, detectives and medical examiners waste no time in dedicating their best efforts to finding the truth. It’s almost as touching as it is harrowing when the detectives wrestle with their guilt over digging up Matthew’s grave to perform an autopsy.

Of course, this is the story of the death (and possibly murder) or a four-month-old, and the show’s difficult premise can’t be avoided. Matthew died of severe head trauma after presumably falling out of his crib, and there are some disturbing mental images evoked through descriptions of his death. There’s also discussion of Tracy and her her mother’s traumatic childhoods, which include drug abuse, attempted suicide, teen pregnancy and a forced abortion. Nothing is shown in detail, and Tracy describes these events as matter-of-factly as possible. Still, it’s difficult to talk about a mother abusing and neglecting her child in a way that’s not disconcerting.

There are a huge range of opinions to be had about true crime. Some find it fascinating, while others find it tasteless. Whatever your stance, you can take comfort in knowing that Burden of Guilt steers clear of exploiting its subjects or sensationalizing a tragedy.

Still, the subject matters dealt with here aren’t for everyone. Prepare for some dark discussions if you choose to reopen this cold case.

(Editor’s Note: Plugged In is rarely able to watch every episode of a given series for review. As such, there’s always a chance that you might see a problem that we didn’t. If you notice content that you feel should be included in our review, send us an email at letters@pluggedin.com, or contact us via Facebook or Instagram, and be sure to let us know the episode number, title and season so that we can check it out.)

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That’s what Belle Gibson tells her thousands of followers on social media. It’s what she tells her publisher, manager, friends and even her partner, Clive Rothwell.

It’s how Belle builds her brand, The Whole Pantry. She alleges that by eating a very curated list of natural foods and practicing alternative medicine, she has cured her cancer.

Belle is lying.

Apple Cider Miracles

Of course, Belle isn’t the first one. Then again, Milla Blake, Belle’s inspiration and chief competitor, isn’t so much a liar as she is just woefully gullible.

When Milla receives her very real cancer diagnosis, it’s contained to her arm. Her doctors say her best chance of survival is to amputate the diseased limb. But Milla is unwilling to accept that prognosis. Understandably, she wants to keep her arm and beat cancer.

So Milla goes to a specialized naturopathy clinic in Mexico. There, she drinks nothing but fresh-squeezed juice and undergoes five coffee enemas per day. Miraculously and inexplicably, Milla starts feeling better. Her cancer goes into remission. And she truly believes she has beaten cancer her way.

Milla writes about her journey on her blog. She’s able to turn that blog into a book deal. And soon, thousands of people are following Milla on social media.

That’s how Belle finds her and gets the idea to begin practicing natural medicine herself.

But unlike Milla, Belle isn’t sick. And she hasn’t found a way to treat cancer either. (For that matter, neither has Milla. Her preferred treatment fails to save somebody close to her, and later, Milla’s own cancer returns.) However, Milla isn’t intentionally leading people astray. She’s just the blind leading the blind.

No, Belle is simply a narcissist looking for a way to get attention and get rich. And if that means she needs to fake a few seizures along the way, so be it.

Coffee Enemas and Fake Seizures

Apple Cider Vinegar isn’t the story of a young woman who tells a lie that gets out of control. Belle knows what she’s doing from the get-go. Every time someone catches her in a lie, she just tells another one, manipulating emotions until she gets the response she wants. She has countless opportunities to come clean.

She just doesn’t want to.

No, this show—which, though inspired by a true story, can’t technically be corroborated since the real Belle Gibson wasn’t paid for this recreation—is a cautionary tale of what happens when you have the hubris to believe nobody will expose you for what you are.

Unfortunately, it also comes with a few cautions for viewers, too.

Sadly, we see the effects of cancer on a multitude of patients. Some undergo traditional medical treatments, such as surgery, chemo and radiation. Others try more homeopathic remedies. And a few even resort to witch doctors and psychedelic drugs. We hear quite a bit of debate about which method is better. But it becomes tragically clear that neither Belle nor even Milla should be offering medical advice, since neither is a medical professional.

It’s also worth noting that a woman miscarries at 23 weeks of pregnancy. She is induced and gives birth to a stillborn daughter. And this life event traumatizes her and her child’s father.

Language is another big concern here, with multiple uses of the f-word each episode. We see quite a bit of skin in both sexual and nonsexual situations, and many characters having sex are unwed. In one scene, a doctor’s gloved hand covers a woman’s breast as she’s prepped for a mastectomy. Couples, including one same-sex couple, kiss and make out. Female characters frequently wear revealing outfits. Alcohol use can be found in most episodes, and a few also depict the use of cocaine.

(Editor’s Note: Plugged In is rarely able to watch every episode of a given series for review. As such, there’s always a chance that you might see a problem that we didn’t. If you notice content that you feel should be included in our review, send us an email at letters@pluggedin.com, or contact us via Facebook or Instagram, and be sure to let us know the episode number, title and season so that we can check it out.)

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No one could have predicted the success of the game, especially with a creative director who regularly pushes back release dates and exceeds production budgets. But somehow, Ian’s rash, last-minute “noodling” always works out, ever expanding his legacy. Er, I mean his team’s legacy…

TEAMWORK MAKES THE DREAM WORK?

And by the show’s fourth season, the legacy of MQ’s team has endured more than a few bumps.

The chief “bump” among those was the loss of Ian and another prominent employee, Poppy. Both of them left the company to start work on Poppy’s game, Hera. Unfortunately for Poppy, Hera just wasn’t all that fun to play. And that caused the duo to scrap the idea in favor of Poppy’s other idea: Playpen, a platform consisting of user-generated games and content.

Well, the issue with that software is that Poppy couldn’t raise enough capital to support it. Fortunately for her and Ian, the team behind MQ is struggling for ways to keep their game fresh and relevant. And that’s how the two rejoined the MQ team, merging Playpen back into MQ’s fold.

But if there’s one thing that seems to update more often than MQ itself, it’s Ian and Poppy’s relationship, which bounces around like a ping-pong ball on the perpetual on-again, off-again table. Currently, Poppy’s dating someone else, and considering their history, the relationship is bound to bring more tension into Ian and Poppy’s working relationship.

NERFS AND BUFFS

Mythic Quest is an accurate depiction of gaming culture—including everything wrong with it.

To be sure, there are many positive elements to online gaming (and to Mythic Quest)—the camaraderie, the engaging storyline, the emotional connection built between characters. But as any parent of a teenager obsessed with Fortnite knows, there are also many negatives.

Language (especially the f- and s-words), sexual innuendos and toilet humor flow just as rapidly as MQ’s in-game blood. LGBTQ characters are present (and engaging in romantic relationships). And the staffers at MQ love to hate on a 14-year-old boy who goes by the streaming tag “Pootie Shoe.” They nonchalantly call him a “little s—” and don’t even realize how unprofessional their behavior towards the child is until a rival company points it out.

Mythic Quest, the game, would no doubt be rated M for mature. And the show is no different.

(Editor’s Note: Plugged In is rarely able to watch every episode of a given series for review. As such, there’s always a chance that you might see a problem that we didn’t. If you notice content that you feel should be included in our review, send us an email at letters@pluggedin.com, or contact us via Facebook or Instagram, and be sure to let us know the episode number, title and season so that we can check it out.)

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