Premiering on June 27, 2025, exclusively on Apple TV+, Smoke is a searing, psychologically complex crime TV series created by acclaimed novelist and screenwriter Dennis Lehane (Mystic River, Black Bird). Starring Taron Egerton as arson investigator Dave Gudsen and Jurnee Smollett as Detective Michelle Calderon, this 2025 TV show explores two parallel arson cases unraveling in the fictional Pacific Northwest town of Umberland. Directed by Kari Skogland (The Falcon and the Winter Soldier) and featuring a strong supporting cast—Greg Kinnear, Rafe Spall, Ntare Guma Mbaho Mwine, John Leguizamo, and Anna Chlumsky—the nine-episode miniseries is inspired by the Firebug podcast and the true story of serial arsonist John Leonard Orr. With fire as its central metaphor, Smoke blends noir, dark comedy, psychological horror, and character study into a moody, ambitious slow burn that occasionally goes off the rails—but never ceases to captivate.
A Fire-Driven Cat-and-Mouse Thriller with a Literary Edg
Smoke starts with literal and metaphorical fire. Dave Gudsen (Egerton), once a heroic firefighter, now works as an arson investigator, tracking a pair of serial firebugs terrorizing Umberland. From the first scene—an inferno that nearly claims Dave’s life—we are thrust into a visually arresting, tension-laden world where flames become both symbol and threat. But Smoke quickly adds layers: Dave isn’t just chasing criminals—he’s writing a novel. A very bad one.
This metafictional device provides dark humor and insight into Dave’s psyche. His narration, filled with overwrought observations and strained metaphors, reveals his self-image as a flawed hero, even as the show begins to chip away at that illusion. Soon partnered with the steely Michelle Calderon (Smollett), Dave becomes both investigator and suspect in a narrative that shifts from prestige crime drama to a deeply psychological character study.
Taron Egerton Burns Bright in a Morally Murky Role
After his stellar turn in Black Bird, Egerton reunites with Lehane to play a very different kind of protagonist. Dave Gudsen is cocky, theatrical, often unlikeable—but Egerton finds depth in his contradictions. Whether he’s performing fire safety lectures for trainees, brooding over literary ambitions, or descending into moral chaos, Egerton’s range is on full display.
His performance walks a fine line: one moment, he’s charming; the next, predatory or pathetic. This is a man who has convinced himself he’s the story’s hero, even as the audience is increasingly unsure. It’s a performance filled with ambiguity, and Egerton embraces every offbeat choice—down to his bizarre accent and unsettling grin.
Jurnee Smollett Anchors the Emotional Core
As Detective Michelle Calderon, Smollett delivers a compelling, grounded performance that balances the show’s more eccentric tones. Haunted by trauma—her mother once set a fire with her inside—Michelle is all cool control and cautious vulnerability. Her early scenes with Dave lean into cop drama clichés, but the show smartly subverts expectations, building a relationship that is prickly, complex, and refreshingly unpredictable.
Smollett’s portrayal of Michelle as a woman battling institutional mistrust, personal demons, and professional isolation adds emotional weight. She becomes both moral compass and reluctant foil to Dave’s unraveling persona.
Two Arsonists, One Inferno of Psychology
What sets Smoke apart from other crime TV series is its twin antagonist structure. While Dave and Michelle investigate elaborate, distraction-based arsons across Umberland, we also follow Freddy Fasano (Ntare Guma Mbaho Mwine), a fast-food worker lighting fires with milk jugs full of accelerant in working-class neighborhoods. These parallel investigations serve different narrative functions—one is a slow-burn mystery, the other a “howcatchem” psychological profile.
Freddy is a haunting presence. Mwine gives a chilling, tragic performance as a socially isolated man drifting toward violence. The show flirts with tired tropes but largely sidesteps them thanks to Mwine’s layered portrayal. Freddy is less a monster than a ghost—empty, desperate, terrifying in his quietness.
Tonal Shifts and Narrative Ambition
At times, Smoke feels like it’s trying to be five shows at once: a noir detective story, a psychological horror, a satire of masculine delusion, a trauma drama, and a police procedural. This ambition is admirable, but the tonal blending doesn’t always land. Episodes shift from dreamlike fire sequences to sing-alongs of Bonnie Tyler or Michael Bolton. One moment recalls Mindhunter, the next something closer to Burn After Reading.
These swings are deliberate and sometimes thrilling—but they can also derail the narrative momentum. The second half of the season, in particular, suffers from uneven pacing and increasingly implausible twists. By the time Smoke reaches its finale, the psychological ambiguity gives way to confusion. The story ends not with resolution, but with smoldering questions.
Supporting Cast Brings Sparks and Stability
Beyond the two leads, Smoke boasts a strong ensemble. Greg Kinnear adds gravitas as Dave’s skeptical boss, Harvey; Rafe Spall plays Michelle’s volatile former lover and superior with magnetic menace; and Hannah Emily Anderson brings nuance to Dave’s librarian wife Ashley, who both enables and critiques his self-mythologizing.
Late-season additions John Leguizamo (as Dave’s former partner) and Anna Chlumsky (as a sharp ATF agent) nearly steal the show. Their odd-couple dynamic injects humor and energy, and their scenes feel like a spinoff waiting to happen.
Cinematic Direction and Fire as Metaphor
Visually, Smoke is top-tier streaming TV. The cinematography is rich and immersive, especially in fire sequences that make flames feel like characters. The opening inferno is a standout, capturing the chaos and danger of fire with terrifying beauty. Director Kari Skogland brings a steady hand, and the stylized direction—complete with dream sequences, POV shots, and surreal interludes—gives the show a cinematic edge.
Thematically, fire represents destruction, rebirth, chaos, and obsession. Lehane mines the metaphor deeply—sometimes too deeply—but the idea of fire as personal pathology is consistent and compelling throughout.
Not Without Its Flaws
While Smoke is often engrossing, its narrative structure occasionally falters. The nine-episode season might have benefited from being tighter. A subplot involving Freddy’s personal life, including his connection to a kind hairdresser (played by Adina Porter), feels undercooked. The show also leans too hard into Gudsen’s literary pretensions, which start as satire but become repetitive.
The series’ biggest stumble is its finale. Rather than providing catharsis or clarity, it embraces ambiguity to the point of frustration. Some character arcs are left dangling, and revelations come too late to fully resonate. The journey is worth it, but the destination may leave viewers cold.
Final Verdict: Smoke Is a Hot, If Uneven, Summer Thriller
Smoke – Season 1 is an ambitious, stylish, and often riveting TV series from Apple TV+, anchored by standout performances from Taron Egerton, Jurnee Smollett, and Ntare Guma Mbaho Mwine. It’s a show about identity, obsession, and the seductive power of destruction—wrapped in a mystery about men who watch the world burn.
Despite its tonal wobbles and uneven pacing, Smoke remains one of the more compelling entries in the 2025 TV series lineup. It may not burn as cleanly as Black Bird, but when it catches fire, it’s hard to look away.
Rating: ★★★★☆ (4 out of 5)