Ronit J

The Death of Bunny Munro Synopsis:

A look at the life of a sex-addict traveling salesman who uses his door-to-door beauty products to meet women.

The Death of Bunny Munro Review:

Someone recommended this show to me as one of the most stylistically beautiful portrayals of toxic masculinity and promiscuity. While the theme didn’t appeal to me all that much, the premise intrigued me just enough for me to give it a shot. Plus, it’s only 6 episodes, so worth a binge, no?

Well, as the first episode wrapped up, I wasn’t all that amazed. Even as the final episode ended, my overall feelings for it remained a tad mixed. And yet, the more I reflect upon this show, I realise that it really was a brilliantly stylised visual experience. It’s only my personal taste that didn’t like the show all that much.

Set against the backdrop of the West Pier fire in Brighton in 2003, the show follows Bunny Munro (Matt Smith), a toxic male lothario who works as a travelling salesman. He sells beauty products using his charm, which he also uses to seduce his customers. His wife, Libby (Sarah Greene), is depressed, while his son, Bunny Munro Jr. (Rafael Mathé) is clearly dealing with the absence of his father. Bunny’s life is turned upside down when Libby commits suicide. Social Services, worried that Bunny is not a good father, tries to take Junior away, only for Bunny to escape with his son. He pretends like they are on a road trip, all the while cold-calling potential customers off his list. They make their way towards a major sales expo.

However, Brighton is also being terrorised by a mysterious serial killer dressed like the devil, a plot that constantly threatens to converge with Bunny’s journey.

Toxic Masculinity of the Previous Generation

As much as I liked the show, I really hated the character of Bunny Munro. He had no redeeming qualities. His skills seemed to me more like what you’d find in pickup artist masterclasses and incel culture forum discussions. All this, however, seems appropriate given the era the show is set in. In fact, it’s all the more brilliantly used, as Bunny’s ‘womanising’ hits a wall when he meets women who aren’t locked in loveless marriages or have enough self-esteem to see through his facade.

Bunny Munro represents a specific kind of man who, in today’s day and age, most certainly feels alien. Yet, such men existed, inspiring a generation of incel culture that continues to thrive in our algorithm-driven dystopia. What starts out as an attractive lifestyle slowly burns away to reveal the darker tragedies that fuel this drive. Bunny Munro is a bad person, and his realisation of his shortcomings comes too late. A near-absent father sows the seeds of his coping mechanism, which is equal parts imitation of his father and equal parts ego, narcissism, apathy, and hubris.

Ultimately, what Bunny wants is to give his son, Junior, a better life than what his father, Senior, gave Bunny. However, his lack of empathy results in him caring more about how Junior remembers him, and not about the memories he is creating for him. While the other characters don’t really stand out, it’s mostly because of how they feel relatively normal when compared to the near-caricature-like mess that is Bunny Munro. He’s not competent. You can’t sympathise with him. And that leads to a story of such tragic consequences, it’s just brilliantly unsettling.

Style & Aesthetics That Are Subjective

What stands out the most for this show is the style and aesthetics. Given that the show is based off a novel written by musician Nick Cave, the music and dream-like visuals add a certain flair to this dark story. Everything looks amazing, and yet it will leave you feeling uncomfortable by the end of each episode. Imagine BoJack Horseman, but with real people. That’s who Bunny Munro is. The show’s grounded aesthetics punch you in the gut with its emotional complexity. Which, on the surface, feels pretty black-and-white, and yet demands that you sympathise with the likes of Bunny Munro. Because only when you understand such a vile man can you understand the scale of pain and anguish that he leaves behind in his pursuit of self-aggrandisement.

The title itself is a spoiler in a sense, so you know that this man (in flesh or in personality) is not going to exist by the end of the show. As the show peels off layers of Bunny’s broken world, you come to realise the literal sense of the title. There’s no saving this man. Only in death can he really make the world a better place. Or, could he really have had the capacity to change, as hinted by the hallucination sequence in the finale? Did the serial killer rob us—and Bunny—of a changed, better man?

I’ll admit, there was a lot that didn’t work about the show for me. For instance, the themes of toxic masculinity felt a little dated. Yet, objectively speaking, it all contributes to building this beautifully complex world whose foundations are so brutally misplaced. Bunny’s narcissism and vanity are mirrored by the beauty products he sells. His world (car, career, relationship with his son) crumbles with his declining mental state. And to present this brutal tragedy with the poetic visuals and music of the show makes this an almost transcendental watch.

The Death of Bunny Munro Ending Explained

After encountering his father, Bunny Munro Sr. (David Threlfall), Bunny begins a downward spiral. He becomes increasingly unstable, making mistakes, failing to woo clients, and just overall on the verge of a breakdown. He manages to reach the sales expo, only to be greeted by a detailed hallucination.

In the hallucination, he performs a song for an audience consisting of all the women (and some men) whom he has wronged. The song reflects his feelings of wanting to be a better man. As it ends, the audience leaves, except for Libby. She tells him how he really had everything with her—a wife, a song, and the possibility of a happy family. However, his womanising and destructive behaviour caused him to lose everything. The only thing left for him is his son, but it’s too late for him.

Reality sets back in. We see Junior searching for his father, only to find him covered in blood. The devil-like serial killer struck again, with Bunny as his victim. Sometime later, we see Junior in a foster home with many kids. He is going to school again and has made friends who accept him. With a different kind of upbringing, one that’s more nurturing and caring, he might just break away from the patterns of toxic masculinity that his father and grandfather almost inculcated in him.

Is The Death of Bunny Munro Worth Watching?

Depends. Matt Smith & Rafael Mathé’s performances alone make it worth watching. However, it’s not the most unique story criticising toxic masculinity and inherited traumas. However, the show is beautifully stylised in a way that’ll surely appeal to some. I’d suggest watching the trailer and deciding for yourself if the show’s aesthetics appeal to you or not.

Will there be The Death of Bunny Munro Season 2?

No. The story is over, and the characters all have story arcs concluded. A season 2 would be pointless.

In Conclusion:

The Death of Bunny Munro is a dark and tragic show that—despite my personal taste—I’d recommend purely for how it uses style and aesthetics to tell an emotionally moving story.

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• Island of the Dying Goddess

What did you think of The Death of Bunny Munro? Let me know in the comments below! Any other manga, anime, series, book, or movie you’d like me to review? Let me know your recommendations, and I’ll be sure to check them out.

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Until next time!