Yellowjackets – Season 3 Review

After two ambitious, genre-blending seasons, Yellowjackets returns with a third installment that is bolder, darker, and more psychologically intricate than ever before. Season 3 finds its creative pulse not in providing answers but in deepening the mythology, intensifying character arcs, and plumbing the raw depths of survival and trauma. If Seasons 1 and 2 were about descent—into madness, memory, and mystery—then Season 3 is about dwelling in that darkness, learning its language, and beginning to question what parts of it we’ve brought back into the light with us.

From its harrowing flashbacks in the wilderness to its tense, fractured present-day sequences, Yellowjackets Season 3 proves this series is not afraid to be uncomfortable, unpredictable, and unflinchingly honest about its characters’ inner chaos. The result is a thrilling, emotionally charged, and utterly transfixing set of episodes that continues to cement Yellowjackets as one of television’s most daring dramas.

Season 3 begins with Episode 1, “It Girl”, reestablishing the grim atmosphere post-cabin-fire as the survivors have built makeshift shelters. Natalie (Sophie Thatcher), now the de facto leader, is a compelling, weathered force—part pragmatist, part prophet. Her decision to declare Ben (Steven Krueger) dead sets in motion a complex arc about moral ambiguity and emotional repression. Meanwhile, Shauna (Sophie Nélisse) drifts into isolation, her grief calcifying into anger and distance.

The pitfall sequence involving Mari (Alexa Barajas) and Ben is a brilliant microcosm of the season’s deeper tension: the wilderness is no longer a place to simply survive—it’s an entity that listens, takes, and transforms. Ben’s slow unraveling and survivalist tactics are poignant and tragic, his self-imposed exile turning into a desperate bid for control. Mari’s fall, both literal and metaphorical, foreshadows how far even the most peripheral characters are being pulled into the wilderness’s will.

Each flashback episode carefully walks the line between mysticism and madness, and the inclusion of hallucinogenic rituals (Lottie’s mushroom teas) raises stakes beyond the corporeal. By Episode 3, “Them’s the Brakes,” Van (Liv Hewson), Akilah (Nia Sondaya), and Shauna all suffer vivid hallucinations that fold surreal horror into grounded trauma. These aren’t cheap scares; they’re windows into each girl’s subconscious, masterfully brought to life with symbolic imagery: Van trapped by her past, Akilah swallowed by inevitability, and Shauna forever chasing the ghost of her lost child.

The convergence of these visions into a classroom led by Lottie (Courtney Eaton) and featuring the ghost of Jackie (Ella Purnell) is one of the series’ most visually and emotionally arresting sequences. It’s a dreamlike amalgam of unresolved guilt, fractured identity, and toxic nostalgia—a place where the rules of life and death no longer apply.

In the present day, Season 3 is equally invested in exploring the women’s emotional wreckage following Natalie’s death. Melanie Lynskey continues to deliver powerhouse performances as adult Shauna, walking a razor-thin line between biting sarcasm and deeply buried grief. Her scenes with Callie (Sarah Desjardins) are among the most layered, offering a generational echo of trauma and rebellion. Callie’s transformation into a protector of her mother—dropping animal guts to defend her—is both morbidly funny and chillingly tender.

Taissa (Tawny Cypress) and Van (Lauren Ambrose) take a fascinating turn into mysticism, especially when Van’s cancer suddenly stops metastasizing after the mysterious death of a waiter—hinting at the wilderness’s continued influence. Van’s chilling realization—“It wants more”—unleashes a spiritual reckoning that weaves dread into the very fabric of the mundane. The show masterfully blends supernatural horror with existential unease, never confirming or denying the presence of “It,” but ensuring its influence is felt in every creaking floorboard and hushed whisper.

Meanwhile, Misty’s (Christina Ricci) story is among the season’s most intense threads. Ricci plays Misty with unrestrained vulnerability this season, stripping her down to the bones. Her scenes with Lottie (Simone Kessell), especially during the twisted truth-or-dare game with Callie, are unsettlingly intimate and reveal the manipulative, almost cult-like tendencies Lottie still holds—even outside the wilderness.

One of the biggest highlights of the flashback timeline comes in Episode 4, “12 Angry Girls and 1 Drunk Travis,” when the girls hold a mock trial for Ben, transforming their society into something nearly medieval. This sequence is brilliant in both concept and execution—equal parts Lord of the Flies, kangaroo court, and group therapy gone wrong.

Misty (Sammi Hanratty) defending Ben with a bizarre blend of logic and delusion is a scene-stealer, and the girls’ shifting alliances reveal the fragility of their moral compass. Shauna’s decision to undermine the trial by exposing Natalie’s secret adds to her evolution into one of the show’s most morally complex figures. No one is purely innocent or one-hundred-percent villainous here, and that’s what makes it so compelling. Everyone is both victim and perpetrator, fighting against forces internal and external, seen and unseen.

Visually, Season 3 continues to evolve with atmospheric cinematography that enhances both timelines. The natural lighting in the wilderness scenes adds a terrifying realism, while the present-day scenes are cold, sterile, and emotionally claustrophobic. The show’s use of dream sequences and hallucinations are elevated this season—never stylistic fluff but essential tools for navigating the characters’ mental states.

The soundtrack once again plays an integral role. From haunting ambient tracks to ‘90s needle drops that carry hidden emotional weight, the music works as a connective tissue across timelines, memory, and identity. Editing and pacing remain top-tier, keeping the story tight despite its labyrinthine plotting and slow-burn horror.

This season also features every single one of its actors delivering their greatest performances to date. It would legitimately be a travesty if, in particular, Sophie Nélisse, Sophie Thatcher, Melanie Lynskey, Courtney Eaton, and Liv Hewson don’t get nominated for Emmys. Fingers crossed.

Yellowjackets Season 3 is nothing short of a triumph—an exhilarating blend of character study, psychological horror, and mythological dread. It dares to go deeper into the pit of human behavior than most shows even attempt, and in doing so, delivers its most mature, haunting, and emotionally resonant season yet. With expert performances, bold writing, and a confidence that grows with each episode, Yellowjackets is not just surviving—it’s thriving.

The wilderness has not let them go. And thank God, neither has this show.