Matt Smith delivers a compelling, if unsettling, performance in Sky’s adaptation of Nick Cave’s novel, The Death of Bunny Munro, a darkly comedic exploration of grief, addiction, and toxic masculinity. The six-part limited series, which premiered on , isn’t a comfortable watch, but it’s a remarkably effective one, largely due to Smith’s willingness to fully inhabit the role of a deeply flawed and often reprehensible character.
Bunny Munro, a door-to-door beauty salesman, is a man desperately clinging to a distorted version of the “American Dream” – or, more accurately, a sad parody of it. He travels the English countryside peddling cosmetics to women grappling with societal pressures and the anxieties of aging, while simultaneously selling himself with a practiced charm and relentless drive. However, beneath the surface of his success lies a crippling sex addiction, a desperate attempt to fill a void that only widens with each encounter. The series doesn’t shy away from depicting the ugliness of this addiction, presenting it not as glamorous or romantic, but as a destructive force that consumes Bunny and those around him.
The series distinguishes itself from other portrayals of addiction, such as those seen in Californication or Euphoria, by refusing to romanticize Bunny’s behavior. Where those shows sometimes leaned into the allure of a libertine lifestyle, The Death of Bunny Munro presents a far more bleak and unflinching view. Bunny’s attempts to drown his pain in lust are portrayed as pathetic and ultimately self-defeating. Here’s particularly poignant given the circumstances that trigger his downward spiral: the suicide of his wife, Libby (Sarah Greene).
The aftermath of Libby’s death throws Bunny’s life into chaos. He’s left to care for his nine-year-old son, Bunny Junior (Rafael Mathé), a responsibility for which he is woefully unprepared. As social services begin to question his ability to parent, Bunny embarks on a desperate road trip with his son, ostensibly to continue his sales route, but in reality, to escape his grief and avoid losing custody of his child. This journey forms the core of the series, a surreal and often disturbing odyssey through the English countryside.
The series doesn’t shy away from difficult subject matter. As one scene illustrates, the narrative is unafraid to present shocking and unsettling moments – a naked woman unexpectedly appearing in Bunny’s living room, for example – that underscore the character’s instability and the unraveling of his life. Adding to the tension, a serial killer is also stalking the area, preying on women, creating a sense of pervasive dread that permeates the narrative. Despite these elements, the series manages to maintain focus, remaining a compelling exploration of a father-son relationship fractured by trauma, and addiction.
Nick Cave’s influence is palpable throughout the series. The author, who serves as executive producer and co-composer of the score alongside Warren Ellis, brings his distinctive worldview to the adaptation. While Cave’s novel was the source material, Matt Smith’s performance subverts expectations, adding layers of complexity to the character. The series avoids easy answers or moral judgments, instead presenting a nuanced portrait of a man struggling with his demons.
The series is described as a “wild cautionary tale and a tender portrait of the relationship between father and son.” While the tenderness is often buried beneath layers of dysfunction and denial, it’s present nonetheless. Bunny Junior, haunted by his mother’s ghost, begins to see his father for who he truly is, flaws and all. This realization forms a crucial emotional arc, adding depth and resonance to the story.
Smith’s performance is central to the series’ success. He doesn’t portray Bunny as a conventionally attractive or charismatic figure, yet he manages to convey a magnetic quality that explains why women are drawn to him, despite his obvious flaws. It’s a testament to his skill as an actor that he can elicit both sympathy and revulsion from the audience.
Cave himself acknowledges the complexity of his creation, stating that Bunny Munro is not simply a “malevolent” or “screw loose” individual. This nuance is crucial to understanding the series’ overall message. It’s a story about a broken man trying to navigate a broken world, and while his actions are often reprehensible, they are rooted in a deep-seated pain and a desperate search for meaning.
The Death of Bunny Munro is not a feel-good drama. It’s a challenging, unsettling, and often disturbing series that demands attention and rewards patience. It’s a bold and ambitious adaptation of a cult novel, and a showcase for Matt Smith’s remarkable talent. The series is available to stream on Sky and NOW.
