Based on the true story and very-online saga of Natalia Grace, the Ukrainian-American girl whose adoption turned into a full-blown tabloid fever dream, Good American Family kicks off like your usual true crime reenactment.

Think: emotional montages, voiceover disclaimers, just enough sympathy to keep you guessing. Kristine (Ellen Pompeo) and Michael Barnett (Mark Duplass) look like your average inspirational Facebook couple until the story peels itself inside out.

At first, it's their show–the early episodes sell their version: a family ‘saving’ a child who may or may not be a 20-something con artist. (Yes, this really happened. Yes, Dr. Phil was involved.) But halfway through, the perspective tilts and suddenly, it’s Natalia’s story, and the so-called ‘good American family’ doesn’t look so good anymore.

It’s a smart trick–or at least, it could have been; if it hadn’t taken four whole episodes to get there. As Variety points out, by the time Good American Family finally flips the script, a lot of the momentum has already leaked out. It’s like watching a magic trick you already know the ending to; impressive, but not exactly surprising–which frustrates me, yet keeps me on the edge of my seat.

That’s not to say the show is a total miss. Imogen Faith Reid, playing Natalia, is the secret weapon here. While the adults spiral into self-righteous paranoia, Reid keeps it eerily grounded, giving you just enough reason to doubt everything you think you know. It’s a performance that deserves better scaffolding than what the script sometimes offers.

The real horror? It’s not about who's lying—it’s about how desperate everyone is to believe they’re the hero of the show. Ellen Pompeo leans hard into Kristine’s white-knuckled delusion, and Duplass does a low-key gutting job portraying a guy who mistakes cowardice for love. They’re both trapped in a feedback loop of their own making, and the show is sharpest when it just lets that rot fester in the open.

Still, Good American Family feels like a missed opportunity.

It flirts with real commentary—about American exceptionalism, about white savior complexes, about the way the media chews through complicated stories. But it never quite commits; Instead, it settles for being glossy, eerie, and just detached enough for you to pretend it's someone else's problem.

Good American Family doesn’t totally waste its second act, but if you’re looking for something that hits harder than a midseason plot twist, this isn’t it. Watch it for Imogen Faith Reid, stay for the sense that we’ve all been rooting for the wrong people for way too long–I do have to admit, I’m gnawing for the season finale.