Run Away Season 1 Review: Netflix’s Crime Without Teeth

TL;DR

Run Away is what happens when Netflix mistakes frantic parenting for criminal genius and calls it a thriller.

It’s watchable. It’s polished. It’s also toothless, cautious, and allergic to danger.

If you want criminal brilliance, moral decay, or genuine menace, look elsewhere.

If you want eight hours of people panicking while authority figures slowly restore “normality”, congratulations. Netflix made this just for you.

This show makes you tense without payoff. Prepare accordingly.

Grab the Stress Ball Set (Schylling NeeDoh) on Amazon and squeeze it every time the plot collapses under its own weight.

Crime, But Make It a Parental Concern

Let’s get this out of the way. If you came here hoping to root for criminals, con artists, or even a mildly competent sociopath, Run Away laughs in your face and hands you a leaflet about responsibility.

This is not a criminal fantasy. This is a middle-class anxiety simulator. The closest thing to outlaw behaviour is a stressed dad doing increasingly stupid things while the universe gently nudges him toward trusting authority figures. You don’t cheer. You sigh. Occasionally you mutter “for God’s sake” at the screen like an old man watching the news.

Running in Circles While Shouting ‘WAIT’

Despite the title, Run Away mostly wanders briskly. The plot kicks off nicely, then immediately begins doing that Netflix thing where it adds twists not because they’re clever, but because the algorithm demands “ENGAGEMENT.”

Every episode ends with a revelation that sounds dramatic but collapses the second you think about it for longer than a kettle boil. The pacing is relentless, yet somehow exhausting. Like being chased by someone who keeps stopping to explain their feelings.

One Stressed Man and Several Human Speed Bumps

James Nesbitt does what James Nesbitt always does: looks permanently stressed, morally confused, and one bad decision away from a breakdown. Credit where it’s due, he carries this thing like a man hauling groceries up six flights of stairs.

Everyone else exists to either:

1. React.

2. Withhold information.

3. Be suspicious in the least subtle way possible.

The women are underused. The villains are vague. The cops? Oh, the cops…

People Talking Like the Script Is Watching

The dialogue is aggressively serviceable. No quotable lines. No memorable exchanges. Just people saying what the plot needs them to say, right before the plot sprints off in another direction.

Whenever tension builds, someone explains it. Whenever mystery appears, it’s spoon-fed. It’s less “crime thriller” and more PowerPoint presentation with shouting.

Welcome to Grit, Please Remove Your Shoes

This show desperately wants grit but keeps scrubbing it with antiseptic wipes. Bad things happen, sure, but they’re framed safely, cleanly, politely.

You never feel danger. You feel inconvenience.

This is crime as imagined by people who lock their doors at 7pm and still trust neighbourhood apps.

Feeling morally superior yet strangely empty? Classic Netflix crime symptom.

Treat yourself to Noise Cancelling Headphones (Sony WH-1000XM5) so you can ignore the show and your conscience at the same time.

Shot Beautifully, Directed Nervously

Visually competent. Emotionally sterile. Shot like a hundred other prestige dramas designed to be watched while scrolling your phone.

The camera never surprises you. The direction never challenges you. It exists to make sure you keep watching, not thinking.

Suspense Music Doing All the Heavy Lifting

Moody strings arrive on cue. Silence when something “important” happens. Music that does exactly what it’s told and nothing more.

No personality. No swagger. No menace.

Have You Considered Obeying the System?

This is where Run Away truly shows its hand.

Every questionable action is punished. Every rule-breaking move leads to regret. Every solution gently nudges us toward the idea that institutions, systems, and officials are fundamentally right.

Chaos is bad. Obedience is good. Trust the process.

Blink and It’s Gone From Your Brain

You’ll binge it once, mostly out of spite and momentum. You will not revisit it. There are no iconic moments. No scenes you’ll remember fondly. No “oh man, remember when…” energy whatsoever.

It evaporates from memory the second the credits roll.

Season Two: Because the Algorithm Said So

If this gets another season, it’ll be because Netflix needs something to autoplay after a real crime show finishes.

There’s nowhere interesting left to go. The mystery is done. The tension spent. What remains is more moral lectures and increasingly implausible coincidences.

You survived eight episodes. You deserve compensation.

Buy “The Art of Not Giving a F*ck” by Mark Manson (paperback) on Amazon and relearn how to enjoy fictional crime properly.

FAQ

Is Run Away worth watching? Only if you enjoy stress without payoff.

Is it actually a crime series? Technically. Spiritually, it’s a parenting seminar.

Are the cops portrayed well? Suspiciously well. Almost as if the show is sponsored by them.

Is it dark or edgy? No. It’s “late evening BBC drama” dark.

Will CRIMENET fans enjoy it? Only in the same way one enjoys yelling at a bad driver.