FX and Hulu’s A Murder at the End of the World Is a Smart, Confident Whodunnit from The OA Creators

Even if their latest project wasn’t an intelligent, tense, and intriguing technoir whodunnit, we have a responsibility to drop everything when Brit Marling and Zal Batmanglij have something new to show us. This is largely due to The OA—their two-season alternate reality sci-fi that will hopefully be remembered as not only one of the finest Netflix Original series, but one of the most unfairly treated. As is the trend for the corporately-aligned streamer, the fact that The OA’s bracing, romantic, and spiritual storytelling could not be found at literally any other network and held a devoted fanbase wasn’t enough to justify a third season, because that would mean paying royalties for something that wasn’t bringing in waves of new subscribers. So long, The OA, you clearly belonged to another world.

As a consequence, A Murder at the End of the World might feel a little defensive in design. It’s a limited series, so no chance of a heartbreaking cancellation; it’s a streaming show, but at least for a robust network with experience in supporting the strange and daring (“FX on Hulu” were also behind Devs and Y: The Last Man). Compared to The OA, A Murder feels more insular—a psychological and character-driven murder-mystery that chases after concrete answers and character growth, rather than the enticing but, in an industry sense, expansive questioning of the Netflix show. All of this is to say: A Murder at the End of the World is indebted to its shared DNA with The OA, but is a fundamentally different beast. 

Darby (Emma Corrin) is a Gen-Z amateur sleuth (they’re so common these days!) with an intimate knowledge of autopsy thanks to her coroner father, and an expert-level grasp of hacking, a skill nurtured by her former lover and detective partner, Bill (Harris Dickinson). Darby has just published her first book, an account of her and Bill solving a series of unsolved murders of unidentified victims using hacking communities, dogged persistence, and an above-average amount of empathy. 

But Darby has been estranged from Bill for some time when she’s invited to the remote Icelandic retreat of reclusive billionaire Andy Ronson (Clive Owen), in a hotel that’s so off-the-grid and sleekly uber-modern that it’s creepy; the convoy of black Volvos taking Andy’s guests to the hotel set to Arrival-esque choral score feels like an evil car commercial.

As the title suggests, one of the guests is killed, but initially, only Darby is convinced it’s a premeditated murder rather than an accidental death. Over the first few episodes, Darby pursues clandestine investigations of her own, arousing suspicion in many but finding unlikely allies in the mixture of activists, technocrats, and contemporary artists. The killer must be one of Darby’s cohabitants—surely no-one is lurking out in the frozen tundra?

Marling and Batmanglij’s stories have a habit of gradually laying out a dense landscape of characters and mood before a propulsive narrative takes shape. Even with the immediate drama that comes with a murder-mystery, this narrative design returns with A Murder, meaning that the first three episodes might strike some non-converts as a little careful for a whodunit. As an isolated detective, Darby is in her element, left to cautiously interact with Andy’s purpose-built AI Ray (Edoardo Ballerini) and Lee Anderson (Marling), a former world-class hacker who gave up programming to marry Andy and raise their son, Zoomer (Kellan Tetlow). Sidenote: naming a child ‘Zoomer’ is one of a couple moments where Marling and Batmanglij reveal that there’s a vague hint of shitposting to their writing.