The Handmaid’s Tale Is the Show You’re Afraid to Watch—But Absolutely Should
There’s a reason The Handmaid’s Tale is one of the most talked-about shows in modern TV history. It’s also likely the reason many people avoid it: because it hits too close to home.
Set in a chilling near-future where women have no rights—over their bodies, choices, or lives—The Handmaid’s Tale dramatizes a world that’s fictional, yet alarmingly plausible. The scenes are disturbing. The themes, unsettling. For many, tuning in feels like choosing anxiety over escapism, especially in a time where repressive policies feel far from fictional.
And yet, to ignore this series is to miss out on television at its finest—bold writing, visionary directing, and unforgettable performances. With its sixth and final season returning April 8 and ending May 27, The Handmaid’s Tale will leave behind a legacy of 66 harrowing, brilliant episodes.
A Set Built on Legacy and Loyalty
Visiting the Toronto set of The Handmaid’s Tale is like stepping into a world of disciplined artistry. Most of the cast and crew have been part of this journey for nearly a decade, a testament to the show’s creative gravity. Delays from the pandemic and strikes haven’t dulled their spirit—in fact, it’s made their community stronger. There’s a reluctance to say goodbye, both on and off screen.
Showrunner Bruce Miller, who adapted Margaret Atwood’s 1985 classic, worked closely with the author. “Margaret encouraged us to be creative,” he shared. “But instead of adding things, I wanted to dig deeper into what was already there.” And dig they did, transforming Atwood’s concise novel into an expansive, terrifyingly detailed dystopia.
Timely, Powerful, Uncomfortably Real
When the series premiered, Donald Trump was just months into his presidency. The themes felt like dark fantasy then—now they feel like headlines. With real-world stories of women being arrested after miscarriages or prosecuted for seeking healthcare, The Handmaid’s Tale no longer feels like cautionary fiction—it feels like a warning we failed to heed.
This season doesn’t shy away from that. Whether it’s June (Elisabeth Moss) and Serena (Yvonne Strahovski) forced into a complex relationship of survival, or the unfolding events in New Bethlehem (a deceptively “gentler” Gilead), every moment is layered with tension, tragedy, and reflection.
A Masterclass in Performance
The acting is consistently breathtaking. Moss and Strahovski continue to deliver electric, gut-punch scenes. Serena, once the face of Gilead’s cruelty, starts to show vulnerability, craving friendship and purpose. June, always a reluctant hero, remains the moral compass of the series—a symbol of resistance born from ordinary beginnings.
And then there’s Aunt Lydia, played with raw brilliance by Ann Dowd. Once seen only as a sadistic enforcer, Lydia becomes a more complex figure this season. “She’s taught me to be honest about my weaknesses,” Dowd says. “And to listen.” Her portrayal adds layers to a character many might have dismissed as irredeemable.
A Timely Ending That Demands Our Attention
As the series nears its conclusion, the storylines remain tightly woven, logical, and impactful. There are no spoilers here, but know this: the ending honors its characters and message. It’s a satisfying payoff for those who’ve watched June evolve from victim to warrior.
And if you’ve avoided watching because it’s “too much,” that’s fair. But also—watch it. Not because it’s comfortable. Because it’s necessary. Because it’s that good.
The sequel series The Testaments is already in the works, promising to build further on the legacy. Until then, The Handmaid’s Tale stands as a haunting, powerful mirror of what could be—and a call to vigilance.
