Film Review – Unabomber
The title says it all, doesn’t it?
Unabomber (2026) traces the life of domestic terrorist Ted Kaczynski through two critical times. The first shows him as a sixteen-year-old math prodigy, whose enrollment at Harvard helped define his personality and planted the seeds of destruction he would eventually cause. That brings us to the second storyline, in which Kaczynski spent nearly two decades planting and mailing homemade bombs to specific targets of his choosing. His reign of terror would gain national headlines and be the basis of the largest FBI manhunt in U.S. history.
Since his capture in 1996, Kaczynski has been the subject of multiple studies, articles, and documentaries. His exploits – and the investigation that would ultimately track him down – are well reported. As a film, Unabomber does not offer much insight into him that isn’t already known. Director Janus Metz (along with screenwriters Sam Chalsen and Nelson Greaves) takes a surface level approach to Kaczynski, opting for broad brushstrokes rather than nuanced details. A 1 to 1 parallel is made between the college student and the murderous recluse. The narrative doesn’t bother to get into the finer points of his psyche, nor does it care enough to cover the ramification of his attacks. We learn nothing of his victims except for one – Thomas J. Mosser – who was killed by an explosive mailed to his residence. But Mosser’s inclusion plays more like a plot device in service of Kaczynski and nothing more.

The narrative hops back and forth between the 1950s and 1990s. The earlier decade proves to be the more fascinating, as we see a young Theodore (Jacob Tremblay) trying to find his way at Harvard. With his thin frame and boyish looks, Tremblay plays this version of Kaczynski as socially awkward yet intellectually inquisitive. He has a lot of thoughts running through his head but isn’t sure how to express them. That is how he comes under the tutelage of philosophy professor Henry Murray (Russell Crowe). Murray aligns himself as a mentor to Kaczynski, believing the lad would benefit in participating in a debate study he is conducting. In reality, the study turns out to be a hidden experiment for the government, in which Murray places subjects in positions where they are verbally assaulted, demeaned, and abused. Murray records the subjects’ reactions and reports his findings to his superiors. The film argues – in no uncertain terms – that these experiments directly lead to Kaczynski’s disturbed behavior.
Stylistically, this portion of the film features an aesthetic that is common to biopics and period pieces – with plenty of earthy browns and yellows. But what makes this section the most engaging is the dynamic between Kaczynski and Murray. Tremblay and Crowe make for an interesting on screen pairing – with Kaczynski trying to prove his worth and Murray steadfast in his desire to mentally break him. While the student eventually becomes a killer, the writing/direction paints the teacher as an equally evil character. Despite the protests of his partner Christiana (Annabelle Wallis), Murray continues forth knowing full well how dangerous his methods are (although he probably couldn’t have predicted to what extent in Kaczynski’s case). Crowe plays his role as a kind of twisted variation of his work in A Beautiful Mind (2001) – an academic whose friendly demeanor hides sinister motivations.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, the scenes that take place in the 1990s are less convincing. Instead of following an older Kaczynski (Michael Laurence) in his now infamous cabin, we ride along with the authorities hot on his trail. FBI agent Joanne Miller (Shailene Woodley) acts as our entry point, as she is a fictional creation meant to represent several different participants of the case. Unfortunately, her story plays out as a generic crime drama of a character disrespected by her colleagues. She clearly understands what is going on and has the best approach to apprehending Kaczynski. Yet she ends up spending a large chunk of time bickering with other agents who disagree with her. Her commanding officers are rendered as stereotypes, quick to deride her for speaking up but unwilling to listen to what she has to say. By the time Joanne takes matters into her own hands, the narrative has completely jumped off the rails.

The big disappointment is that there are too many scenes that are overly staged or put on for dramatic effect. As strong as the performances are, the acting cannot carry a narrative that is this undercooked. As a result, scenes that are meant to illicit a strong emotional response ring as hollow. One sequence, where Joanne hides in the woods to evade being found by Kaczynski, feels like a stock horror-movie cliché. For as smart and resourceful as Joanne is made out to be, putting herself in such a dangerous position represents the movie trying to find a quick way to build tension. This happens again during the climactic showdown between the young Kaczynski and Murray. The final standoff – where Murray puts himself in the experiment against Kaczynski – is meant to be a clash of titans. Ted is no longer feeble or overwhelmed, but rather fully transformed into a force of nature. Tremblay and Crowe do what they can with the dialogue, but the interaction (complimented with rapid fire editing) comes off as too melodramatic and performative. It all appears too artificial to be believable.
There are so many other resources that dive deeper into Ted Kaczynski that Unabomber ends up being too light to make an impactful contribution. Netflix, which produced the film, has its own documentary series (Unabomber – In His Own Words, 2018) that goes far beyond what this has to offer. It seems the streaming giant tried dipping back into the same narrative well. This only lightly covers the subject matter, and true crime fans maybe a little turned off by the “creative liberties” that were taken. Outside of the performances, there just isn’t much to take away from this one.
