If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if Eat, Pray, Love went on a road trip with Gone Girl, Wilderness might just be your answer — minus the yoga and plus a hefty dose of simmering rage.
This slow-burn thriller series on Amazon Prime begins like a Pinterest-perfect love story — a young, attractive British couple, Liv and Will, pack up their dreams (and emotional baggage) and move to the glitzy chaos of New York City. Will has landed a cushy job in events — think swanky parties and smug client calls — while Liv, ever the supportive wife, has traded her own career for love. It’s all Manhattan brunches and Manhattan cocktails… until it isn’t.
Because beneath the glow of fairy lights and rooftop views, there’s something rotten in this marital apple pie.
Liv, whose childhood was marinated in her mother’s post-divorce bitterness (“All men cheat!” — the unofficial family motto), thinks she’s broken the cycle. She’s convinced Will is different — kind, loyal, maybe even allergic to adultery. But then, one night, her phone lights up with the kind of message that makes every partner’s blood run cold: the digital breadcrumb trail of infidelity.
And just like that, the perfect world crumbles — and the slow burn begins to sizzle.
Will, in classic male-defensive form, insists it was a “mistake” — a one-night stand, nothing emotional, barely even physical if you ask him. He repents, he grovels, he probably buys flowers. Liv, however, isn’t buying the act — especially when more secrets (and one damning video) tumble out like skeletons on caffeine. What begins as heartbreak morphs into obsession, and that obsession? Oh, it has murder written all over it.
But here’s where Wilderness gets deliciously twisted: instead of divorcing him, Liv decides to forgive him — with the kind of forgiveness that involves scenic mountains, a cross-country American road trip, and maybe a little accidental homicide. Nothing says “let’s save our marriage” quite like plotting your husband’s demise somewhere between the Grand Canyon and Yosemite.
Things, however, take a jaw-clenching turn when Will’s other woman (yes, that other woman) somehow ends up joining their road trip — with her own boyfriend in tow. What follows is a scenic, sun-drenched slow cooker of tension, deceit, and irony. It’s like watching a travel vlog that keeps threatening to turn into a true crime documentary.
Without spoiling too much (though let’s be honest, you’ll see it coming), murder happens — and it’s Liv’s turn to improvise. The rest of the series unravels like a tangled necklace: messy, glittery, and full of unexpected twists. The real fun is not who did it, but how she’s going to get away with it — and what new betrayals will be unearthed along the way. Because, spoiler alert: everyone here is a little bit awful.
What makes Wilderness stand out isn’t just the plot — it’s the pacing. It’s slow, yes, but purposefully so — simmering instead of sprinting. It allows you to soak in Liv’s unraveling psyche, the toxic dance between guilt and revenge, and the unnerving question of whether you ever truly know the person you share a bed with.
The cinematography deserves its own applause. America’s wide-open landscapes serve as the perfect backdrop to the claustrophobic intensity of their marriage. Every cliff edge, every winding road feels like a metaphor for the fragile line between love and lunacy.
By the end, Wilderness leaves you with more questions than closure — about relationships, trust, and the disturbing lengths we’ll go to protect our pride. It’s messy, moody, and a little maddening — just like marriage itself.
Would I recommend it? Absolutely — if you enjoy your thrillers with a side of emotional chaos and passive-aggressive road trips.
Would I watch it again? Probably not — once was enough to remind me why open communication (and not open caskets) is key to a healthy relationship.
Final Verdict: ★★★☆☆ (3 out of 5)
A gripping slow burn that proves revenge is a dish best served… somewhere in the Mojave Desert.
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