When I started watching Smoke on Apple TV+, I was drawn in immediately. The production values are high, the cast is impressive, and the early episodes carry a dark, deliberate tone that suggested something in the vein of True Detective. I expected a brooding, thoughtful drama.
But after the second episode, the series takes a dramatic tonal shift. The subject matter remains heavy—corruption, family trauma, and violence—but the presentation grows increasingly heightened. Scenes that initially felt weighty begin to register as exaggerated, and certain plot developments strain credibility.
Somewhere between the third and fifth episode, the series I thought I was watching had transformed into something else entirely. The performances remain strong, but the writing and narrative coherence falter, veering into territory that feels less refined and more erratic.
Still, I find myself watching each week. New episodes drop Thursday evenings, and I am often there as soon as they are available. My interest is now split between genuine curiosity about the main character’s fate and a fascination with how far the series might drift from its original tone.
Would I recommend Smoke? Probably not. Unless the conclusion delivers an unexpected and satisfying resolution—which I find unlikely—it does not fulfill the promise of its early episodes. Yet as an example of how a show can evolve, and how audience expectations shift along with it, Smoke remains an intriguing, sometimes frustrating, viewing experience.