Alfonso Cuaron’s directorial debut Disclaimer (2024), streaming on Apple TV+, has attracted significant attention due to its lavish production and a cast that includes Cate Blanchett, Kevin Kline, Lesley Manville and Sacha Baron Cohen.
Yet despite these credentials the series has faced harsh criticism. The New Yorker’s Inkoo Kang called it a “work of startling vacuity,” while The Guardian’s Lucy Mangan described it as “slow, turgid, self-important.”
However, these critiques overlook Disclaimer’s incisive exploration of gender politics, sexuality and misogyny, mediated through unreliable narrators who test our judgement and perception. Audiences are enfolded within Cuaron’s drama in a manner that prompts questioning and thinking — we are invited to examine and re-examine our own judgments and biases. In this way, Disclaimer’s moral universe extends beyond the boundaries of its televisual frame to include its judging and interpreting audience.
Two competing narratives central to the series are authored by two very different female characters who are also mothers. The first is Nancy Brigstocke’s (Lesley Manville) story, presented as a self-published book, The Perfect Stranger. Nancy chronicles her son Jonathan’s affair with Catherine Ravenscroft (Cate Blanchett), a married woman. Nancy’s tale also carries the provocative disclaimer: “any resemblance to persons living or dead is NOT a Coincidence.” Audiences are thus invited into the sphere of Nancy’s story that purports to be the truth.
Nancy’s manuscript is dedicated to her son Jonathan, who tragically drowned while saving Catherine’s son. Her narrative also paints Jonathan as a heroic figure while Catherine comes across as a selfish, manipulative woman. Explicit photographs of Catherine, discovered by Nancy’s husband Stephen Brigstocke (Kevin Kline), seem to validate this portrayal.
Nancy’s narrative is a delayed affair: it only reaches the light of day after her death. Her surviving husband Stephen finds her manuscript in a locked drawer in their son’s bedroom. He then shares the book with Catherine’s son Nicholas (Kodi Smit-McPhee), her husband Robert (Sacha Baron Cohen) and her work colleagues. Stephen seeks to ruin Catherine, portraying her as a villain who prioritises pleasure over her child and lets his son Jonathan drown. His and Nancy’s perspectives are compelling, painting Catherine as a selfish mother and immoral woman, arousing the audience’s contempt.
This hatred reflects deeper societal biases. Catherine’s youth, beauty, career success and sexual confidence make her a target. She is condemned for being a young mother who prioritises sex over her child, neglects him at the beach, and watches Jonathan drown. These events fuel a narrative of punishment, echoed by other characters who demand Catherine “get what’s coming to her.” Even her son Nicholas calls her a “selfish bitch” after reading The Perfect Stranger. Catherine’s supposed crimes culminate in her fictional death, reinforcing her role as a femme fatale.
The series critiques this misogyny, highlighting society’s discomfort with maternal sexuality and its puritanical tendency to punish women for their desires. Catherine’s husband Robert, initially her supporter, joins Stephen in seeking to punish her, embodying a patriarchal alliance that perpetuates misogyny and moral superiority. Nancy’s narrative further reflects these dynamics, as her bond with Jonathan excludes Stephen and fuels her vengeance against Catherine. Nancy’s love for her son is deeply oedipal — it transcends maternal affection, positioning him as her exclusive object of devotion.
Disclaimer’s second narrative emerges in its final episode, when Catherine confesses her version of events to Stephen. Her story reveals a starkly different reality: Jonathan was not a lover but a rapist who assaulted her over three hours. The explicit photographs were taken under duress, with Jonathan threatening her and her son. Exhausted from the ordeal, Catherine accidentally dozed off at the beach, leading to her son’s peril. Jonathan drowned while attempting to save Nicholas, but Catherine’s focus was on her child’s safety. In this version, Catherine is a victim, not a villain.
Despite this revelation, audiences struggle to accept Catherine’s account. It arrives late in the series and contradicts Nancy’s compelling story that has a far lengthier and satisfying story arc. This reluctance to embrace Catherine’s counter-narrative reflects societal prejudices that tend to misbelieve or blame rape victims. Catherine’s silence about her assault underscores the risks of speaking out, including being disbelieved, judged, or retraumatised. Her decision to protect Jonathan’s memory and spare his grieving parents further complicates her position.
Disclaimer masterfully manipulates the point of view, using unreliable narrators who challenge our prejudices and beliefs. Nancy’s tale elicits sympathy and anger, while Catherine’s counter-narrative forces a re-evaluation of those emotions. The series exposes societal tendencies to doubt women, particularly mothers, and to hold them to impossible moral standards. It critiques how rape victims are scrutinised, whether they speak out or remain silent, and highlights the enduring power of misogyny and puritanism.
While critics have dismissed Disclaimer as implausible, its moral and ethical provocations are deeply relevant. The series compels viewers to confront their own values and biases, challenging one to discern inequality and injustice.
Disclaimer is a story about questions not answers, imploring us to examine our own prejudices and the societal norms that shape them.