David Bianculli

Megan Gallagher, who created and wrote the TV adaptation of Andrea Mara's novel, ramps the tension to a fever pitch at the very beginning, then follows the narrative in two directions at once.

Part of all her fault moves forward, day by day, tracking the events as the police work with the family to try to locate Milo.

But an equal part of the story is told in flashback, revealing, slowly and sometimes surprisingly, the mysterious pasts of many of the characters.

There are lots of characters, and they're almost like a school of red herrings.

At some point, it's fair to suspect all of them of something nefarious.

The detective on the case, played by Michael Pena, has his hands full.

But Pena is up to it.

Whether he's interacting with suspects in an interrogation room or playing with his own young son at home, Pena radiates sensitivity and weariness, like Mark Ruffalo in Task.

The rest of the exceptional performances are turned in by women.

Dakota Fanning, as Jenny, becomes a key character.

So does Abby Elliott from The Bear, who plays Marissa's sister-in-law.

Her emotional range and rawness matches that of Sarah Snook.

And the same can be said of Sophia Lillis, who plays a nanny who becomes increasingly central to the plot.

The drama's focus on all these women is not coincidental.

Told from their characters' perspectives, their differing viewpoints and memories are crucial.

So are the performances of the actresses who play them.

The title All Her Fault turns out to be relative, depending upon which her in the story is being blamed.

Because eventually, all of them are.

But the women in front of and behind the camera in All Her Fault deserve nothing but credit.

It's a thriller and a psychological drama that works so well mostly because of them.