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| Unabomber (2026) Movie Review: Jacob Tremblay Carries Netflix’s Ted Kaczynski Biopic. |
Jacob Tremblay is easily the most compelling reason to sit through Unabomber (2026), a Netflix biographical thriller that takes on the complicated life and ideas of Ted Kaczynski but struggles to turn its weighty material into an engaging film. Directed by Janus Metz Pedersen, the film has a strong cast in Russell Crowe, Shailene Woodley, Annabelle Wallis and Alexander Ludwig, yet it is Tremblay who ends up doing most of the heavy lifting.
The film moves between two periods in Kaczynski’s life. In 1958, a young Ted is a brilliant maths student at Harvard, already dreaming of becoming a philosopher and changing the world. His intelligence catches the attention of psychology professor Henry Murray, who encourages him to join a debate club. What Ted does not realise is that the club is connected to a psychological experiment funded by the CIA. The apparently innocent academic environment gradually becomes something far more unsettling.
The second timeline jumps to 1995, when FBI agent Joanne Miller becomes convinced that the official approach to identifying the Unabomber is going nowhere. After Kaczynski anonymously publishes his manifesto, Miller begins pursuing her own theory, despite resistance from members of her task force. Her investigation eventually turns towards the isolated Ted, whose past offers clues to the man behind the name.
There is plenty to work with here. Unabomber has an inherently fascinating story, particularly because it attempts to explore how Kaczynski's worldview developed rather than simply presenting a conventional crime story. The script digs into manipulation, technological progress, the Industrial Revolution and the ethical questions surrounding scientific research. At times, it feels less like a thriller and more like a university seminar that has accidentally wandered onto Netflix.
That is not necessarily a problem. The trouble is that the film rarely finds a convincing cinematic rhythm for all those ideas. It spends considerable time discussing Kaczynski's beliefs and motivations, while the actual manhunt frequently feels strangely lifeless. A story involving the FBI chasing one of America's most notorious criminals should not feel like it needs a coffee break halfway through.
Tremblay, however, gives the film something it desperately needs: a human centre. His portrayal of young Kaczynski avoids turning the character into a simple monster or a misunderstood genius. Instead, he presents someone intelligent, insecure and increasingly troubled by the direction of the world around him. The performance gives some shape to the connection between the gifted Harvard student and the isolated figure he eventually becomes.
That connection is particularly important because the film keeps Kaczynski's violent acts largely off-screen. Rather than relying on graphic depictions, it focuses on the thinking and circumstances surrounding his transformation. Tremblay has to communicate much of that change through performance, and he is remarkably effective at doing so. His scenes are among the few moments when the film feels genuinely alive.
The 1950s sections are also where the production looks its best. Warm lighting, period clothing and analogue technology create a convincing sense of time and place. The contrast between the academic world of young Ted and the later FBI investigation gives the story a potentially strong visual structure. Unfortunately, the film does not make enough of that contrast.
Russell Crowe's Henry Murray, meanwhile, should be one of the film's most intriguing characters. The relationship between Murray and Ted provides the story with an opportunity to examine power, authority and psychological experimentation. Yet the character often feels like a narrative device rather than a fully developed person. The same problem affects much of the supporting cast, with several accomplished actors seemingly waiting for the screenplay to give them something substantial to do.
The 1995 storyline suffers even more from this problem. Joanne Miller's determination to challenge the FBI's established thinking could have provided the film with a gripping investigative thread. Instead, the investigation often drifts. There are stretches of agents searching through the woods and following leads that generate little urgency. It is a manhunt without much hunting, which is quite an achievement considering the subject matter.
One scene involving Crowe opening a gift from Ted is a particularly obvious missed opportunity. The possibility that the package could contain something dangerous should create tension immediately. Instead, the sequence arrives with remarkably little menace. The editing, blocking and music never quite find the right note, leaving what should be a nervy moment feeling oddly routine.
That problem runs throughout Unabomber. The ingredients for a compelling crime thriller are all present, but the film repeatedly leaves them sitting untouched. There is a notorious criminal, an FBI investigation, a controversial manifesto, psychological manipulation and a decades-long transformation. Somehow, the result is considerably less gripping than the ingredients suggest.
The film is also careful not to present Kaczynski's worldview as something viewers are simply expected to accept. His criticism of technological development and industrial society is given considerable attention, while his methods are treated separately. That distinction makes sense, particularly for a story attempting to explore the ideas behind a notorious figure without endorsing his actions.
There is an interesting contemporary undercurrent, too. Unabomber raises questions about technological progress, modern society and whether innovation always improves people's lives. Those themes remain relevant, perhaps uncomfortably so, even though the story itself belongs to another era. The irony is that these ideas are often more interesting than the thriller surrounding them.
Unabomber is a film with a better subject than execution. Tremblay gives the performance the story needs, especially in the Harvard scenes, and there is genuine value in watching the film explore how a gifted young man developed such an extreme worldview. But the movie repeatedly mistakes seriousness for tension. It has plenty to say and surprisingly little dramatic spark with which to say it.
The FBI investigation should be the engine, yet it often feels like the bit you endure before returning to Tremblay. Crowe and the supporting cast are capable enough, but the screenplay gives them oddly thin material. Visually, the 1950s sections have more personality, while the later timeline can feel flat. It is not a complete waste of time, but it is difficult to escape the feeling that a documentary could have handled these facts with more energy and clarity.
Ultimately, Unabomber (2026) is carried by Jacob Tremblay rather than the machinery around him. His performance gives the film its strongest emotional thread, while the script supplies plenty of material for discussion but not enough suspense to make the runtime fly by.
For viewers interested in Kaczynski, the psychology behind his transformation or the wider questions about technology raised by his beliefs, there is something here to chew over. For anyone expecting a tense Netflix crime thriller, though, the film may test their patience. Have you watched Unabomber yet, and did Tremblay's performance make the slow-burn approach work for you?