Succession star Sarah Snook is back in an addictive TV adaptation of the bestselling novel All Her Fault by Andrea Mara, starring alongside Dakota Fanning in this twisty thriller that follows the abduction of Marissa's child.
But the series is quite clearly more than just another “child abduction” whodunnit – we had one of those earlier on this year with The Stolen Girl, as well as BBC's The Missing, among many others over the years. It's every parent's nightmare, and therefore makes regrettably compelling TV. What sets All Her Fault apart, actually, is its depictions of motherhood, specifically the unfair and sexist expectations that women face if they opt to return to work after having a child.
Snook plays super-rich wealth manager Marissa Irvine, who goes to pick her child, Milo, up from a playdate, to find he had never been to that address. What follows, obviously, is a manhunt for Milo, but also a series of underhanded questions from the police, members of her family, and even her own husband, Peter (Jake Lacy), as to why she hadn't vetted the location her child was set to visit more thoroughly. Why hadn't she done more? Do you know who didn't get that grilling? Her (creepy, controlling) husband.
We see a group of mums at the school gates pass judgment throughout Marissa's ordeal, questioning why she wasn't at home looking after her own child instead of being at work. Dakota Fanning's Jenny is also a second, critical case study of this damaging pressure and bias. A passionate executive working in the publishing industry, she is constantly juggling last-minute meetings with authors with school pick-up and worrying about looking unprofessional during work events when her (useless) husband calls while “babysitting” because he has no idea what he's doing and would rather defer to her, even though she's at work. She's shamed at the school gates for having “just one child” and working, instead of volunteering her spare time at school events. It's maddening.
In a really poignant scene, as Marissa and Jenny build a friendship, Jenny says, “I'm tired of being amazing. I don't want to be amazing anymore.” The line really stuck with me. The pervasive expectation of “perfection” in working mums. That they are revered if they get absolutely everything right and balanced, and ripped apart and guilt-tripped if they don't. The name of the show, All Her Fault, says it all – the responsibility falls to the mothers, as does the guilt and shame. For the abduction, yes, but also all the other little things they could've done better as parents. A burden their husbands are spared.
Both Snook and Fanning have opened up about representing the “mental load” of motherhood – Snook herself became a mother shortly after wrapping Succession. “We explore what the mental load is oftentimes for women to take on in a parenting role,” Snook told the LA Times.
Speaking to The Times, Dakota said that the series “encompasses so much of what it’s like to be a woman now, seemingly never getting it right. Trying our hardest and somehow being picked apart for it. We all can relate to it.” The show's creator, Megan Gallagher, added: “Within that material was this maternal guilt and this discrepancy in domestic labour tasks in heterosexual couples that, to me, is just this huge issue. Every woman I know, who is roughly my age, is dealing with this.”
Now let's get one thing straight: I'm not a mum. But what I am is a woman in the working world who is constantly reminded of what would be expected of me if I were to have a child, how it would affect my career, in comparison to my (male) partner's. The guilt and shame that society piles on a mother if she opts to attempt to juggle two huge parts of their identity. The fact that UK statutory paternity leave is still only one or two weeks long says it all, really, as well as a 2023 survey finding that 65% of working mothers feel guilty about not spending enough time with their children.
Just a week or so ago, I sat on one of my oldest friend's sofas and she confided in us that her imminent return to work after maternity leave was weighing heavily on her mind. Above all, because she had no idea how to be good at her job and be a good mum. These pressures and anxieties are something all women carry to some extent – the pressure to be perfect – but this is compounded to a ridiculous degree when it comes to motherhood.
We may be dismantling the damaging elements of the “girlboss era” and its promotion of toxic hustle culture within male-dominated structures, but we are yet to really tackle the guilt and shame that working mums face. My friend tells me that it exists within mum communities too, with women gaslighting each other into thinking they're “not doing enough” for their child if they're working.
Due to the very real examples of working mothers experiencing this shame, whereas fathers do not, these depictions onscreen are extremely important. As is the enduring friendship and female solidarity between Snook and Fanning's characters throughout the series.
The trope of pitting women against each other in a time of crisis is (thankfully) sidestepped, with only the husbands and peripheral characters airing distrust on each side. It's refreshing to see Marissa and Jenny navigate a traumatic time – where they both feel guilt and blame for Milo's abduction – side by side.
All Her Fault's representation of this kind of female solidarity through the tumultuous time that is motherhood (with or without an additionally traumatising child abduction) and the normalisation of the huge load that working mums carry is important. Seeing these stories play out on screen starts conversations, and these conversations can effect change. So that perhaps one day, working women won't feel that they need to carry these burdens and pressures to be perfect alone.
All Her Fault is available to watch on Sky and NOW.
A new campaign is raising awareness of the dire state of paternity leave in the UK.
