The subgenre of detective fiction, known as “Whodunnits” (who has done it?), has captivated the attention of movie-goers since the release of Murder on the Orient Express in 1974, the first cinematic adaptation of the Queen of Crime’s iconic novel which received major critical and commercial success due to its star-studded cast and faithfulness to the beloved source material. The genre has since maintained a steady presence within the film industry and the public’s appetite for a stylised murder mystery with a satirical edge has only grown in recent years. From the perfectly polite and light-hearted whimsy of the BBC’s Miss Marple (1984 to 1992) to the “tongue in cheek” exuberance of Netflix’s Knives Out mysteries (2019 to 2025), let’s take a look at the lasting cultural impact of “whodunnits” and why we never get sick of them.
Relatively simple in premise, a “whodunnit” revolves around a complex crime, the resolution of which falls to the protagonist, most often a charismatic detective — think Hercule Poirot, Benoit Blanc, Sherlock Holmes. Of course, the setting and characters vary greatly but when we strip back these narratives to their core we are usually left with a rigidly formulated, self-contained mystery. The formula goes something like this: crime is committed, detective is notified, suspects are introduced, plot thickens, mystery unravels, detective has light-bulb moment, killer is revealed. From the hollywood-budget glossiness of the Residence (2025) and Death on the Nile (2022) to the gritty British TV series like Broadchurch (2013 to 2017) or Midsomer Murders (1997) whose episodes can be watched as stand-alone stories, this formula is what unites them and what continues to draw in fans.
If we zoom out for a moment, it’s unsurprising that we would enjoy this sort of media that presents itself as an aesthetically pleasing brain teaser. The human brain is wired for complex problem solving, yet the monotony of everyday life leaves that instinct increasingly underutilised. Engaging with these mysteries, according to Dr Goldstein from Psychology Today, allows us to “tap into this neurological reward system” and the genre knows this, playing into our desire for a satisfying conclusion. Differing in intention to psychological thrillers like Shutter Island (2010) or crime dramas such as The Godfather (1972), these “whodunnit” stories are not meant to scare or unnerve us but to intrigue us. Such intrigue is built into the literal structure of a whodunnit. Separate from the formula is the unique perspective, which Dr Goldstein says “invite[s] audiences to play detective alongside investigators”. The narrative somewhat limits us to the perspective of the investigator, for example, we only know what the suspects tell us and what the clues reveal, occasionally even permitting a glimpse into their cognitive strategy which is what makes shows like Sherlock so enjoyable. By allowing us to be privy to the same information we are effectively included in the case’s closure, therefore providing us with that dopamine hit.
Perhaps a less obvious reason why we, as modern audiences, enjoy these narratives is because they recognise the intelligence of their viewers. They rely on the audience’s ability to piece together clues, retain important details and psycho-analyse the characters. The same cannot be said for the countless dumbed-down productions being churned out by streaming services to accommodate for “casual or second-screen viewing”. The declining quality of Netflix originals brings to light this phenomenon like the poorly received Irish Wish (2024) or the increasingly mind-numbing Emily in Paris (2025). The Guardian even reported on the issue, saying that Netflix has a history of telling showrunners that scenes aren’t “second screen enough” and demanding that a synopsis of the plot be awkwardly injected into dialogue. Amidst these releases, whose scripts read as though they were written by AI, there is increasing demand for elaborate, well-written plots where audiences don’t feel like they’re being spoken down to. The “whodunnit”, when done well, strikes a perfect balance arming us with info and keeping us on track through effectively placed recap sequences which actually make sense for a detective; they meet us at our level, and that’s why we can’t get enough.
The thrill that Agatha Christie’s earliest fans felt in the 1930s is the same thrill we experience when tuning into the latest witty murder mystery; the satisfying payoff is why this genre never gets old. We are simple creatures — give us a puzzle filled with red herrings, a room locked from the inside and a suspicious butler and we’ll ride the high of feeling like Sherlock Holmes for days!
