Butterfly nicely pairs propulsive action with family drama

At first glance, Butterfly appears to be classic espionage fare. The basic narrative is that nine years after his presumed death, a top agent pops up and meets his now-adult daughter, who happens to be a highly skilled assassin employed by his former organization. And then the two go on the run together after realizing that they’re being hunted by the one person they trusted the most. As they traipse around various parts of South Korea, David (Daniel Dae Kim) and Rebecca Jung (Reina Hardesty) reckon with their extremely fractured relationship while trying to uncover a large-scale conspiracy. The standard concept works here because of its well-paced execution at the hands of co-creators Ken Woodruff and Steph Cha, who adapt the show loosely from the 2015 graphic novel of the same name.   

The six episodes consistently depict the intensity of the danger that David and Rebecca are in through an assortment of shootouts, explosions, hand-to-hand fights, and a lot of running, not to mention the emotional potency of their reunion. Both of them struggle to reconnect and trust each other, which puts their survival at risk. They gradually fall into an affecting rhythm (think tearful outbursts, confessions, hugs, cooking meals, and reminiscing) that helps Butterfly hit the right balance between taut thriller and family drama. In that sense, the series is more in the vein of Prime Video’s character-driven Mr. & Mrs. Smith than the streamer’s generic offerings like Citadel and The Terminal List. 

Butterfly also has actual fun with its premise, as evidenced in the opening scene alone, wherein David croons The Killers’ “Mr. Brightside” in a karaoke room while tracking down Rebecca on the side. (ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” plays later during a cool fight scene.) This sets up a serious yet buoyant tone that is sustained for most of the show. A lot of the heavy lifting to achieve that is done by Kim and Hardesty, nimble performers who believably juggle their characters’ iciness and sincere attempts to warm up to each other. 

The desire to mend their bond comes easiest to David. He faked his death but was always waiting for the day when he could see his daughter again. Unfortunately for the Jungs, his reentry into her life wreaks total havoc and unearths long-buried secrets that could expose some powerful people. For David, the risk is worth the reward if it means he can finally be with Rebecca and keep her safe—except his kid isn’t 14 anymore and doesn’t need the protection of someone who doesn’t know her. (“Do you drink?” David asks her after they’ve caused a nationwide manhunt, shot at cops, and escaped a hired gunman.) Rebecca’s grown into a badass hit woman who, in his absence, has turned into a bit of a sociopath. Something she loves to do is laugh out loud whenever she’s confronted with trauma and instability, a tiny but effective detail that paints a picture of how she copes with—or rather avoids—grief.