This Controversial Serial Killer Series Is Surging on Netflix Right Now — and It Only Gets Darker

Prodigal Son premiered on Fox in 2019, and it seemed like a gamble at the time, as the network did not typically air these kinds of shows (unhinged serial-killer dramas that ask you to sympathize with an individual who threatens to sever limbs before the first commercial). Almost four years after its cancellation, the show is experiencing a rebirth. However, the overwhelming response suggests it should have aired on a streaming platform from the start.

Built around a father-son dynamic that’s equal parts psychological thriller and pitch-black comedy, Prodigal Son never fully fit the procedural mold it was sold as. That mismatch made it polarizing during its original run. On Netflix, however, the same qualities that once divided critics are helping it stand out in a crowded true-crime-obsessed landscape.

What 'Prodigal Son' Is Actually About

The premise is deceptively simple. Malcolm Bright (Tom Payne) is a criminal profiler with an uncanny ability to think like a killer — because he was raised by one. His father, Dr. Martin Whitly (Michael Sheen), is an infamous serial murderer known as “The Surgeon,” responsible for more than 20 meticulously executed killings.

Malcolm was a child when he turned in his father, but has changed drastically as an adult, changing his name, severing all connections, and building a strong career to avoid any legal trouble. However, when a copycat killer emerges, he is forced to consult the man he has worked so hard to stay away from.

Every episode consists of both a case that is solved that week and the gradual unraveling of Malcolm's mental health, which includes severe PTSD, insomnia, and an ongoing fear that he is somehow connected to his father's evil. The show isn’t subtle about this — Malcolm literally straps himself to his bed at night — and that intensity is baked into every interaction, especially when Martin begins insinuating himself back into his son’s life.

Michael Sheen Is the Show’s Secret (and Not-So-Secret) Weapon

Much of Prodigal Son’s reputation rests on Sheen’s performance, and for good reason. His Martin Whitly isn’t played as a cold, distant monster. He’s warm, chatty, theatrical, and deeply invested in being a good father — which somehow makes him more unsettling.

Rather than fully leaning into the Hannibal Lecter archetype, Sheen plays Martin as a man who views his crimes as inconveniences rather than moral failings. Sheen may have limited screen time, but he still demonstrates an incredible range, from beautiful to sad to terrifying, within that same limited time. Murder is only a tool to get him the real prize - an emotional connection with his son.

While carrying the emotional weight of the show, Payne as Malcolm shows the audience that he is jittery, sarcastic, reckless, and not always likable — traits that might make him hard to relate to, but at least provide some depth. The more Malcolm attempts to show others (and himself) that he isn't who his father is, the more morally grey Malcolm is shown to be as he straddles the blurry line between being a Hero and being a liability.

Why the Show Was So Divisive the First Time Around

Calling Prodigal Son “controversial” has less to do with outrage and more to do with identity. Critics struggled with its tone, which ricocheted between grisly crime scenes, gallows humor, and heightened melodrama. Some embraced the chaos, praising the show’s willingness to be weird and excessive. Others found it derivative, pointing to obvious Silence of the Lambs and Red Dragon influences without the discipline of prestige cable counterparts.

Viewership clearly showed a disconnect between the show's cancellation after only two seasons and the audience rating and continued support for the series throughout its run. The decision came down to declining live ratings, not engagement — a problem that streaming platforms have largely solved.

Why 'Prodigal Son' Works Better on Netflix

On Netflix, Prodigal Son feels liberated. Without weekly scheduling or advertiser-friendly expectations, its tonal swings read less like missteps and more like creative choices. Binging smooths over some of the repetition, while the escalating psychological stakes become easier to track across episodes.

The show also benefits from modern viewing habits. Audiences now expect morally compromised protagonists, serialized trauma, and genre hybrids that don’t behave politely. What once felt “too much” for network TV now plays like a natural extension of the streaming crime boom.

Prodigal Son was never a clean fit for Fox, and that’s ultimately why it didn’t survive. But its Netflix resurgence suggests the show wasn’t a failure — it was misplaced. The performances are sharp, the family dynamics are twisted in compelling ways, and its willingness to embrace discomfort feels more relevant now than it did in 2019.