Butterfly, Amazon’s adaptation of Arash Amel’s graphic novel, positions ex-agent David (Daniel Dae Kim) on a mission that isn’t to save the world, but to protect the younger assassin he’s chasing: his daughter Rebecca (Reina Hardesty). The premise flips the usual spy-cat-and-mouse dynamic by making the hunter a protective parent, adding a sobering emotional throughline to the high-octane action.
The series follows David as he tracks Rebecca across cityscapes and hotel corridors, while Rebecca—now a skilled 23-year-old killer—navigates a shadowy world controlled by the merciless outfit Caddis. Rebecca’s current employer and David’s former company intersect with a web of power, betrayal, and paternal longing. The twist of their relationship fuels the drama as they bounce between disguises, quick fisticuffs, and tense chases, all set against the hustle and neon of South Korea.
The premiere, directed by Kitao Sakurai, opens with a long, elaborate stand-off that showcases both leads’ competence. Rebecca infiltrates a Seoul hotel to take out a high-ranking Russian official while David hits a nearby karaoke bar with parallel aims. The opening sequence, though stylish, takes up a significant portion of the run time without fully delivering on its promise of inventive, kinetic thrill-making. The action is competent, but not consistently inventive or jaw-dropping in the way that some genre favorites are known for.
Where Butterfly shines is in its more intimate moments. Once the chase gives way to David and Rebecca’s evolving relationship, the show leans into a family drama that feels earned. Kim brings a tough-but-kindly presence, making David’s insistence that he faked his own death nine years earlier feel believable and emotionally weighty. Hardesty matches him with a performance that oscillates between shock, anger, tenderness, and nostalgia, revealing the child Rebecca must have been beneath the hardened exterior she now wears.
The series also frames the tension through its other characters. Juno, the cynical cofounder of Caddis, and Oliver, her more insecure counterpart, provide the counterpoint to David and Rebecca’s emotional core. The cast around them adds texture, with occasional moments of menace and moral ambiguity. The South Korean locations contribute welcome texture beyond tourist-friendly spots, with scenes that use night markets and urban chaos to amplify the stakes.
Despite these strengths, Butterfly relies on a grab bag of familiar thriller elements: a chant of “saintly” or “crusading” figures on the political side, and a roster of ruthless operatives on the espionage side. The show never fully commits to letting David’s past—his mercenary history and the consequences for Rebecca—redefine him beyond the nobility he’s framed as having. Rebecca’s potential sociopathic edge isn’t explored as deeply as it could be, leaving some grit on the table that the series doesn’t quite chase.
Bottom line: Butterfly offers a lean blend of action and family drama, but the six-episode run may leave viewers wanting more depth and risk in its premise. Still, the emotional core—father and daughter confronting what love and fear do to people who operate in a world of danger—gives the series a human heartbeat that could pay off if future episodes lean more into character complexity and sharper storytelling.
Summary for readers: Butterfly centers on David’s mission to protect his daughter Rebecca from a shadowy organization, blending high-speed action with a poignant family dynamic. The South Korean setting adds flavor, and performances by Daniel Dae Kim and Reina Hardesty anchor the show, even as the thriller elements don’t always land with the same impact as the emotional arcs.
If you’re drawn to spy thrillers that tilt toward familial bonds and character-driven stakes, Butterfly offers a diverting, if imperfect, ride. It may not redefine the genre, but its heart and human moments provide a hopeful note for where the story could go in subsequent episodes.