This Near-Perfect 8-Part Revenge Thriller Is an Unexpected Streaming Sleeper Hit

Revenge stories don’t really go out of style. They’re always changing forms, telling versions of the same basic storyline but updating it every now and again, to be reintroduced to an entirely different audience that has not been ready for this resounding success.

This seems to be the case with The Count of Monte Cristo, a recent adaptation of Alexandre Dumas‘s classic novel. The series has recently reached number one on Apple, according to the Netherlands-based analytics website FlixPatrol, even without the kind of major production, advertising, and distribution effort that typically would precede such a major success. It’s outperforming other series simply because it’s proven interesting enough to earn a near-perfect Rotten Tomatoes score of 88%.

Why ‘The Count of Monte Cristo’ Is Climbing the Apple TV Charts

There’s nothing especially modern about the premise itself, and that’s part of the appeal. Betrayal, imprisonment, reinvention, revenge — it’s all familiar territory, but what distinguishes this adaptation is how deliberately it approaches those beats. The eight-episode series features Sam Claflin, is directed by Bille August, and has a large-scale dramatic plot with plenty of detail, a slow-moving pace, and every event of considerable significance.

It’s the patience in the series’ pacing that provides so much momentum and ultimately sets the tone. Once the pivotal betrayal takes place, there is no attempt to build suspense for the audience; it is the result of a trajectory that has been in place since the series’ opening and has evolved over eight episodes. After this point, the series has taken a more measured approach, not rushing to avenge itself but instead methodically achieving that goal.

The story is set in 1815, during the changing political climates of France in the years following Napoleon’s defeat. The story begins on the shore of Marseilles with Edmond Dantès (Claflin), a sailor whose potential is completely snatched away from him in one action. After being framed for treason by a group of men, out of jealousy and desire to save themselves from the consequences of their own actions, Edmond is imprisoned at the Château d’If, an island fortress designed to hold prisoners without trial and to prevent them from escaping.

While in prison, Edmond meets Abbé Faria (Jeremy Irons) and begins to see things differently. Faria’s influence on him has a much larger impact than simply helping him survive. Through education, a new perspective, and eventually, the knowledge of a hidden fortune, the process of changing Edmond from who he was before into someone much more deliberate has begun. When he returns to the world, he does so as the Count of Monte Cristo – rich, composed, and functioning with such precision that it makes his acts of revenge feel more like they were pre-planned rather than simply doing them because he was wronged.

What stands out most in this version is its restraint. Where other adaptations might lean into action or immediacy, this series builds tension through structure. Every interaction has a purpose; every move Edmond makes is part of a larger design. While it can be argued that the series ultimately represents an evolution of classic revenge stories, it does so through an entirely new lens — one that emphasizes the shift from a singular act of gratification to a longer-term process involving planning, manipulation, and execution of a revenge plot. As such, this form of entertainment has a slower buildup (though more satisfying), allowing the episodic quality to illustrate the psychological elements throughout the narrative.

Why This ‘The Count of Monte Cristo’ Adaptation Stands Out

Filmed across France, Malta, and Italy, the series makes strong use of its locations without letting them overpower the narrative. There’s a noticeable contrast between environments—the harsh, confined reality of the Château d’If versus the expansive, carefully curated world of Parisian high society. August keeps the presentation grounded, even as the story becomes more elaborate. The result is a series that feels cinematic without relying on spectacle alone, using setting and atmosphere to reinforce the emotional shifts.

In a world filled with adaptations of The Count of Monte Cristo, a new version must provide its own justification for existing, and this one justifies its existence through a commitment to telling the story’s arc over eight episodes. The extended runtime allows exploration not only of our protagonist’s arc but also of the ripple effects of his actions on everyone around him. His enemies are not simply villainous, nor is the result of his revenge restricted to his immediate victims. The series does not shy away from showing the repercussions of his actions on other characters.

Claflin’s performance as Edmond Dantes exemplifies this complexity. His characterization is executed in a manner that reflects both control and instability. The viewer is left with the impression that his transformation into the Count isn’t entirely clean, and that unresolved issues persist within Edmond. The supporting cast of characters reflects that same dynamic through overt villainous and more subtle, morally ambiguous behavior. Even when the characterizations are examples of traditional archetypes, there is rarely a feeling of disconnection or disassociation from the story.

This is a series that displays the appeal of its source material and doesn’t try to outpace it; it builds on it — carefully, deliberately, and with enough confidence to let the story speak for itself. For viewers willing to settle into its rhythm, the result is a revenge thriller that feels both familiar and unexpectedly absorbing. And clearly, enough people are finding it worth the time.