Yellowjackets – Season 1 Review

Showtime’s Yellowjackets is a masterclass in genre fusion, character development, and narrative tension. Created by Ashley Lyle and Bart Nickerson, the first season of this psychological horror-drama thriller is a stunningly executed piece of television that balances survival horror with emotional depth, coming-of-age angst with adult disillusionment, and the brutality of nature with the even harsher truths of human behavior. With ten tightly wound episodes, Yellowjackets Season One boasts daring storytelling, outstanding performances, and an unflinching commitment to psychological complexity.

Yellowjackets tells the story of a high school girls’ soccer team whose plane crashes in the Canadian wilderness in 1996. What starts as a survival story gradually mutates into something darker and more primal. The narrative jumps between the past—where the stranded teenagers must navigate hunger, trauma, and mounting paranoia—and the present, where the surviving women are still grappling with the horrifying secrets of what really happened out there.

This dual timeline structure isn’t just a gimmick; it’s the show’s lifeblood. By paralleling the descent into savagery with the fractured adult lives of the survivors, Yellowjackets explores the long-term psychological toll of trauma and guilt. The transitions between timelines are seamless and often thematically connected, deepening the narrative rather than disrupting it.

The casting in Yellowjackets is nothing short of phenomenal. The show features two versions of each character—teenage and adult—and the casting directors deserve enormous credit for finding actors who not only resemble each other physically but carry the same emotional intensity.

Melanie Lynskey is a revelation as adult Shauna, portraying the quiet desperation of a suburban housewife hiding violent secrets behind her placid demeanor. Her younger counterpart, played by Sophie Nélisse, captures the insecurity and guilt that begin to fester during their time in the wilderness. Both actors bring extraordinary depth to a character torn between maternal instinct and latent rage.

Juliette Lewis (adult Natalie) and Sophie Thatcher (teen Natalie) deliver powerhouse performances as the team’s goth rebel. Natalie’s descent into addiction and her attempts at redemption are portrayed with nuance and aching vulnerability. Lewis, in particular, brings a gritty realism to the role, offsetting the mystical undertones of the series with emotional rawness.

Tawny Cypress and Jasmin Savoy Brown play the adult and teenage versions of Taissa, respectively—a character wrestling with ambition, identity, and a disturbing sleepwalking condition. Their arcs are some of the most compelling, blending political ambition with supernatural horror.

And then there’s Christina Ricci as Misty, the team’s equipment manager turned adult sociopath. Ricci’s performance is a chaotic delight: equal parts hilarious and terrifying. Sammi Hanratty, as young Misty, sets the foundation for Ricci’s manic energy, showing how a desperate need to be needed can turn into something monstrous.

What makes Yellowjackets so compelling is how confidently it straddles multiple genres. It’s part survival thriller, part psychological horror, part supernatural mystery, and part character-driven drama. The show dances on the knife’s edge of horror and realism, often blurring the line between hallucination and reality. Are the girls being haunted by something in the woods, or are they simply succumbing to the madness of starvation and isolation?

Rather than giving easy answers, Yellowjackets relishes ambiguity. The series leans into its dark, cult-like imagery—the antler queen, ritualistic behaviors, animal sacrifices—while leaving viewers questioning how much is rooted in the supernatural and how much is psychological fallout. This ambiguity keeps the audience theorizing and engaged, long after the credits roll.

The real horror of Yellowjackets isn’t just what happens in the woods—it’s what the survivors bring back with them. The show’s depiction of trauma is both literal and metaphorical. Flashbacks are not merely devices for exposition, but manifestations of unresolved guilt and identity fragmentation. The present-day characters are not just haunted—they are actively unraveling, and the show resists any attempt to simplify their pain.

Thematically, Yellowjackets tackles issues like PTSD, motherhood, addiction, sexuality, and the societal pressures on women, all without becoming preachy or heavy-handed. It allows its female characters to be messy, flawed, and morally ambiguous, which is still a rarity on television.

The soundtrack of Yellowjackets is one of its most nostalgic and effective tools. With era-appropriate tracks from bands like Hole, Tori Amos, PJ Harvey, Portishead, and more, the 1996 timeline feels authentic and emotionally evocative. These songs are not just background noise—they reflect the inner turmoil of the characters and the mood of the moment.

Complementing the soundtrack is the eerie original score by Craig Wedren and Anna Waronker, which captures the dread and disorientation that permeate every episode. The show’s opening credits, set to the haunting theme “No Return,” perfectly encapsulate the show’s spirit—equal parts nostalgic and sinister.

Despite its complex structure and slow-burn pacing, Yellowjackets is never boring. Each episode escalates tension masterfully, and just when you think the show has revealed all its secrets, it throws in another twist—whether it’s a shocking act of violence, a betrayal, or a supernatural hint.

The writing team expertly balances character moments with plot developments, ensuring that even the most shocking reveals are rooted in emotional truth. It’s a rare show where the mystery box elements are as compelling as the characters themselves.

The finale of Season One manages to tie together several threads while opening up new questions, setting the stage for a second season that promises even darker revelations. Crucially, it doesn’t rely solely on a cliffhanger; instead, it leaves viewers emotionally wrecked and intellectually ravenous.

While comparisons to Lord of the Flies are inevitable, Yellowjackets subverts that narrative by centering the experiences of young women, interrogating how female relationships—often reduced to clichés in pop culture—can be just as vicious, complicated, and feral under pressure. The show doesn’t flinch from showing how societal expectations of femininity collapse in the face of survival, and how those expectations continue to haunt the survivors into adulthood.

It’s also one of the few shows that places middle-aged women front and center, giving them fully realized arcs that explore love, violence, ambition, and madness without judgment or caricature.

Season One of Yellowjackets is a triumph on every level—writing, acting, directing, music, atmosphere, and emotional depth. It’s as addictive as it is unsettling, and it stays with you long after you’ve watched it. It’s a show that demands attention, rewards investment, and promises to become a defining series of the decade.

Whether you’re in it for the mystery, the psychological complexity, the feminist themes, or just a really good story with killer performances, Yellowjackets delivers. And then some.