The difference between a miniseries and a proper television show is now indistinguishable, especially after the continuation of programs marketed as “limited events,” such as The White Lotus and Fargo. The miniseries model used to have value because it signified a complete story with a fixed ending; whether it was a Broadway adaptation like Angels in America, a biographical work like John Adams, or a conclusive character piece like The Queen’s Gambit, these shows promised a short commitment for viewers, who wouldn’t face the stress of a potential cancellation. Currently, Netflix is in the business of using the “limited events” moniker as part of its publicity machine. It’s much easier to retroactively claim that a show was always intended to be a single season than it would be to outright cancel it.
Hostage is one of the many Netflix miniseries this year that would’ve been better suited as either a two-hour film or a 22-episode season. However, it’s different from Zero Day and Apple Cider Vinegar because it’s clear where the story was cut off. While not creatively revolutionary, the first two episodes of Hostage contain an exciting premise that could either be wrapped up quickly or extend into a multi-season story in the vein of Homeland or 24. Unfortunately, there’s three more episodes of Hostage that devalue any of the strong performances and worldbuilding that was achieved early on. While it may not be the single worst thing that Netflix produced in 2025 (The Electric State), it’s representative of the heedless approach that the service has utilized in its storytelling. Hostage is engaging enough for curious viewers to finish, and too forgettable to leave them with any substantial feelings of disappointment.
Hostage doesn’t offer escapism for those that want to see less politics because of how explicitly similar its story is to recent headlines. Hostage’s protagonist is Great Britain’s Prime Minister Abigail Dalton (Suranne Jones), who’s in the midst of a public crisis related to a shortage in medical supplies. Dalton may be surrounded by adversaries both within and outside her party, but she’s faced with her toughest opponent yet when introduced to the French President Vivienne Toussaint (Julie Delpy). Toussaint has an unhappy electorate of her own, but she’s conceived of a radical policy to push the moderate Dalton into a border conflict. However, any advantages that Dalton may have had in the negotiation are negated when her husband, Dr. Alex Anderson (Ashley Thomas), is kidnapped during a humanitarian trip in Guyane.
There’s a risk in the use of a political leader as the hero, but Dalton has just enough ambiguity for Hostage to avoid any overt policy assessments. It’s easy to empathize with a character who’s equally detested by both sides of the aisle, and Dalton is even more compelling when her loyalties are tested in wake of her husband’s capture. A story about the balance of personal and professional ethics is compelling, but the moral questions Hostage could’ve asked are almost immediately dropped in favor of a groan-worthy conspiracy angle. Anderson’s kidnapping is merely a plot device used to set up the show’s real dilemma; it's yet another fear-mongering depiction of a nation in crisis, and one with too much blind faith in those elected to office.
What’s particularly disappointing about Hostage is the potential it showed within the dynamic between Dalton and her husband; those married to a powerful leader may seek anonymity, but any action they commit will be perceived as political. It’s also likely that those who get intimately involved with politicians may share strong beliefs about social, economic, and ethical issues. Anderson’s humanitarian activities are framed as apolitical, but they become an inflection point for a number of hot-button topics, which include Dalton’s budget for foreign aid, the depleted healthcare in her own country, tensions with border nations, and the disruption of interventionist treaties with European allies. To tackle these topics in the midst of a psychological thriller about a tested marriage would’ve made for a great show, but Hostage is too quick to point out its villain. Once the mustache-twirling military leaders and hidden far-right anarchists emerge from the shadows, Hostage is about as believable as The Witcher.
It’s likely that any hint of ambiguity would cause Hostage to plummet within Netflix’s internal algorithm, which has prioritized broad appeal. It’s a contrast to the strategy Netflix took in its early years, in which a variety of niche-appeal programs hooked in audiences. Hostage isn’t unique enough to convince anyone to sign up for Netflix. Those interested in a timely political thriller are better suited to watch The Diplomat, which is a lot more playful in its showcase of the unusual characters that find themselves in positions of power. Alternatively, Netflix’s first breakout show, House of Cards, was legitimately cynical in a way that Hostage never was.
While it's possible that Hostage had its rough edges sanded off so it’d appeal to international audiences, it’s tame in its consideration of a political sex scandal. A sordid video of Toussaint and her younger lover is meant to be the show’s most shocking development, but there’s nothing in Hostage that feels transgressive in the wake of the scandals within both the Clinton and Trump administrations. It’s also not fleshed out enough to contain any insight; for a more in- depth examination of all parties involved in a political infidelity, the FX miniseries American Crime Story: Impeachment offered a sobering look at the ramifications of the Monica Lewinsky interlude.