Netflix's Forgotten 3-Part Steampunk Fantasy Series Is One of Its Best Hidden Gems
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Published Jun 22, 2026, 6:41 PM EDT
Kelcie Mattson is a Senior Features author at Collider. Based in the Midwest, she also contributes Lists, reviews, and television recaps. A lifelong fan of niche sci-fi, epic fantasy, Gothic horror, elaborate action, and witty detective fiction, becoming a pop culture devotee was inevitable once the Disney Renaissance, Turner Classic Movies, BBC period dramas, and her local library piqued her imagination.
Rarely seen without a book in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, Kelcie explores media history (especially older, foreign, and independent films) as much as possible. In her spare time, she enjoys video games, amateur photography, geeking out over music, and attending fan conventions with her Trekkie family.
Some adaptations are made for streaming — not literally, where an existing story is reconfigured to fit a specific algorithm, but because feature-length movies often can't retain the ingredients that make their source material superb. Long-form television, on the other hand, can set a narrative free. Case in point: Netflix's A Series of Unfortunate Events, a deft three-season adaptation of Daniel Handler's (better known by his pseudonym, Lemony Snicket) darkly comedic children's series.
Any attempt to condense and emulate Handler's charmingly twisted riff on steampunk fantasy, Gothic horror, melodrama, suspense thriller, and spy caper — the backbone of many a millennial's bookshelf — merits close inspection. His 13-book structure has more dimensions than even a positive first glance suggests; they're a sustainable romp because of their subtle, intricate, and organic coherency. Netflix's A Series of Unfortunate Events rises to the occasion as a remarkable tonal feat not too unlike Apple TV's Widow's Bay: an effortless sustained between whimsy, absurdism, fatalism, pathos, and theatrical camp, where fourth-wall interjections strike with chef's kiss timing, and the stinging wit ranges from desert-dry to wheezing-from-laughter wordplay. It's one of Netflix's singular adaptations and gives any adult show a run for its money.
What Is 'A Series of Unfortunate Events' About?
This catastrophic tale of abject misery begins with death. After their loving parents perish in a fire, three resourceful and preternaturally intuitive orphans inherit a fortune. Eldest child Violet Baudelaire (Malina Weissman) is an engineering prodigy, Klaus' (Louis Hynes) young mind holds a font of scholarly knowledge (plus a broad vocabulary), and Sunny (Presley Smith), the literal baby of the family, has conveniently sharp teeth. To no one's surprise, the broken legal system abandons the vulnerable children to fend for themselves.
I drink and I know things... like which are the best fantasy book-to-TV adaptations.
Thankfully, the geniuses are more than a match for the constant thorn in their side — Count Olaf (Neil Patrick Harris), a nefarious schemer eager to seize the Baudelaires' inheritance by any and every outrageous means. His indefatigable pursuit doubles as an excuse to transform his theatre troupe's costume collection into an assembly line of flamboyant disguises. This despicable murderer has a floundering dream, you see; one day, the world will recognize him as the greatest actor who ever lived. As the imperiled trio foils Olaf's plots, they also unearth corrupt conspiracies, noxious grudges, and their parents' ties to a top-secret organization.
'A Series of Unfortunate Events' Captures What Makes the Books Special
While not without its merits, Paramount Pictures' 2004 movie starring Jim Carrey flattens Handler's pitch-perfect pacing, idiosyncratic character traits, and subversively morbid delights into more traditional and heavy-handed fare. Comparatively, Netflix's 25 episodes are a loyal ode to his calibrated satire. Three seasons of breathing room recognize the characters' complexity, translate the books' nature, and allow both to flourish in all their dense, beautifully bizarre, metafictional glory. The series even folds in broader lore without weighing down its most crucial points with unnecessary bloat; expanding the clues Handler's books had breadcrumbed enriches the full scope of the universe's stakes and the trio's melancholy plight.
To that end, the entire cast embraces the joke with an eager glint in their eye. The main trio runs laps around the dialogue's breakneck rhythm and strikes the perfect pendulum-swing between the Baudelaires' endearing precociousness and their deadpan misery. Harris' harmonizing notes (figurative and literal) conjure images of the scene-stealing Disney villains of old — the ones whose convoluted antics are a blast until their measured, stark menace reminds audiences to never presume they're harmless. Meanwhile, the recurring stars are an embarrassment of riches. Patrick Warburton aces his signature dreary droll like never before, while the gleeful Alfre Woodard, Catherine O’Hara, Joan Cusack, Nathan Fillion, Allison Williams, David Alan Grier, and plenty more have the time of their lives.
'A Series of Unfortunate Events' Is a Bleak, Witty, and Underrated Classic
Image via Netflix
Paramount originally hired Barry Sonnenfeld to direct the 2004 movie before complications arose. As the TV incarnation's lead director and an executive producer, Sonnenfeld's palpable affection suffuses the highly stylized environments he and production designer Bo Welch craft. The vibrant colors, devices, and off-kilter architecture (the throwback vibe lands somewhere between Victorian England and the Roaring Twenties) call to mind an innocent child's overactive imagination.
For all that A Series of Unfortunate Events luxuriates in that wondrous spectacle, it respects the concept's meatier flourishes. Traumatic loss flings the Baudelaires into prematurely becoming their own protectors. The exhausted siblings vie for peaceful security, but genuinely sinister tribulations haunt their steps. They're forced to survive a world ruled by greed, hypocrisy, and rampant injustice. The compassionate guardians they do accrue meet outrageous demises. Even though their morally ambiguous circumstances twist their stalwart principles, these resilient kids contain more wisdom and compassion in their pinky fingers than their arrogant, bumbling, derisive, and oh-so-preoccupied adult counterparts. Handler follows the same family-friendly creed as artists like Don Bluth: he respects children as people. They're no monolith to distract with shiny objects, but curious, capable individuals who can understand contradictory truths — like how it's possible to cultivate joy despite our indiscriminately cruel reality.
This quasi-Greek tragedy doesn't miss a step on the road toward its resonant, cathartic, and gift-wrapped payoff. After nine years tucked away inside Netflix’s ever-growing library, after a Peabody Award and overwhelmingly rave reviews, A Series of Unfortunate Events' overlooked marriage of faithful translation and universally rewarding watch is waiting to be rediscovered. Where else will you find pre-teens conducting an uproarious monologue about linguistic accuracy?