'Vanished' Review: Kaley Cuoco and Sam Claflin's Gripping Thriller Miniseries Builds to a Confusing Ending

Who cares about cops and detectives when you have archaeologists and investigative journalists to solve crimes? There are countless iterations of regular citizens taking on investigative roles to locate loved ones, either with the help of law enforcement or in place of a corrupt, incompetent department. The newest version is MGM+'s Vanished, a four-episode miniseries that follows an archaeologist hunting down her missing boyfriend in France. Except Vanished is delightfully refreshing and surprising in its approach, completely upending the narrative at every corner until we cannot trust anything or anyone we see on the screen.

At the forefront of Vanished are two highly underrated actors we do not see enough of: Kaley Cuoco (The Big Bang Theory) and Sam Claflin (Me Before You), joined by a supporting cast that skillfully adds to the intrigue and subversion of the show, including Matthias Schweighöfer, Karin Viard and Simon Abkarian. Together, the performances and twisty narrative make Vanished gripping enough to keep the viewer watching until the end, but it doesn't really achieve what it sets out to do with a jarring conclusion.

What Is 'Vanished' About?

Alice Monroe (Cuoco) is an archaeologist who recently received a job offer as a professor at a prestigious university. To celebrate, she goes on a trip with her boyfriend, Tom Parker (Claflin), and asks him to move in with her, to which he responds with a less-than-enthusiastic yes. So, when he disappears from a train in France while Alice is having a nap, the local police simply believe he's run away from commitment. Alice pairs up with an investigative journalist she met on the train, Helene (Viard), and they combine their clue-hunting skills to track Tom down. However, practically everything is not what it seems, and within the span of four episodes, there are countless twists and turns you won't see coming.

'Vanished' Cleverly Handles Plot Twists and Genre Staples

If you chop off the last ten minutes of the series, Vanished is a near-perfect show with clever twists, genuine stakes, and self-aware comedy. Everything feels meticulously positioned for the grand finale, hinting at something more shocking than what we experience over those four episodes or an emotional, cathartic release. Each episode consistently rewrites the narrative while remaining cohesive and true to the story and its characters, playing with perception and the truth in wildly absurd but thrilling ways. At the same time, there are hints of a deeper commentary on relationships and potentially an allegory of domestic abuse that lend the storytelling an unsettling gravity. Up until the finale, the writing demonstrates an uncanny precision that pairs well with the unruly, twisty surface.

Cuoco mainly carries the emotional weight of the story, as we follow her down the rabbit hole of secrets and illusions. Known for excelling in the comedy and sitcom space, it is exciting to see her take on a thriller role. Her character's intelligence and intuition are believable, and she shares endearing romantic chemistry with the deadpan, charming Claflin. As such, Alice is easy to root for, even when her reality is devolving around her, forcing her to question everything she once believed. But undoubtedly, Cuoco is at her best when she shares the screen with Viard, and together they become an unstoppable force of bickering and friendship.

Helene is also the primary source of the show's self-aware comedy, one that makes the tired beats of a "seeking for a loved one against all odds" thriller refreshing. The first episode is the best example of this, where Alice asks all the dated questions about why the police aren't helping her and is naively unaware of the underbelly of the city. There's a frustration in watching the same old song and dance until the realization that the show is simply lulling the audience into a sense of security before ripping the rug from underneath them, with Helene being the self-reflexive mouthpiece that pokes at the clichés in the genre. As the episodes progress, this tonal self-awareness is apparent in other narrative decisions, making for an entertaining genre viewing.

The Show's Ending Undermines What 'Vanished' Tries To Achieve

Now, the last ten minutes of Vanished aren't necessarily awful, but they are confusing. The closing scene in itself is a lovely touch of irony that would elicit a cackle, but doesn't quite fit with the rest of the show. In fact, it undermines the entire show. Every plot twist in Vanished is shocking, and the majority of the show is plotted well, but the final twist is nothing short of jarring and inconsistent, and it makes you wonder what the show was trying to achieve after everything. Is Vanished simply pursuing entertainment and shock value? A sense of empowerment? Some sort of commentary on relationships? No answer is incorrect, but the diluted mix of all the above is dissatisfying.

The main reason the ending feels hollow is that the series deals with some heavy subject matter. Much of the tone around these components is serious, while the humor tends to be reserved for genre clichés. However, the final confrontation, mixed with the closing scene, essentially feels like the show is writing itself off as a joke, and the punchline is the insensitivity towards the weightier subjects. Barring ethics, it's a missed opportunity to say something powerful, and Vanished instead delivers a half-hearted attempt at feminism, comedy, or shock.

If the series had altered that troublesome plot point, then the ending would have been a hilarious sign-off to a twisty, slightly ridiculous but emotional thriller. Although the conclusion undercuts the show's tonal nuance, it's still intriguing and fun enough to be worth watching. What Vanished manages to do with genre staples is inspired, even if it does leave a bitter aftertaste.