New Show With Jeff Daniels
So, I’m sitting on my couch last Tuesday, half-watching a rerun of Parks and Rec—you know, the one where Leslie Knope almost faints from excitement over a waffle iron—when a commercial break hit. And there he was: Jeff Daniels, staring into the camera with that familiar, weary smirk. My brain short-circuited for a second. Was this a trailer for another season of The Newsroom? No. It was something else entirely.
I grabbed my phone and immediately texted my friend, “New Jeff Daniels show?” She replied, “Duh. It’s called The Tunnel. It’s a psychological thriller. He plays a disgraced architect who builds bunkers for rich people.” Of course he does. Because Jeff Daniels doesn’t do “simple.” He does the roles that make you lean forward and forget to blink.
Here’s the thing about Daniels: he’s one of those actors who sneaks up on you. You think you know him—Will McAvoy shouting, “I’m not a liberal,” or Harry from Dumb and Dumber licking the dead bird. Then he pivots, and you’re suddenly watching him play a cold-blooded killer in Godless or a grieving father in The Looming Tower.
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The new show, The Tunnel, is a Peacock original—don’t roll your eyes, they’ve been stepping up their game. It dropped two weeks ago, and I’ve already binged the first four episodes. The premise is deliciously dark: Daniels plays Arthur Vance, an architect whose career implodes after a tunnel he designed collapses during a gala. His solution? He starts designing “survival bunkers” for paranoid billionaires.
Why You Should Care (Even If You Hate Bunkers)
Look, I’m not usually a fan of “rich people problems” shows. But The Tunnel isn’t about the bunkers. It’s about what happens when you lock yourself away from humanity. Daniels’ character, Arthur, is a walking contradiction: a man who builds cages for others while pretending he’s free. You’ll watch him and think, “I should hate this guy,” then two scenes later, you’re whispering, “Wait, I kind of get it.”
The writing is sharp, too. There’s a scene in Episode 2 where Arthur is explaining his “philosophy of isolation” to a tech billionaire, and he says, “Privacy is the last luxury. You’ve got the money. Now you need the shadow.” I literally paused and rewound that line. It’s that good.
And the supporting cast? Ruth Negga plays a forensic psychologist who’s tracking Arthur because—surprise—people keep dying in these bunkers. She brings this quiet, coiled intensity that makes every scene between them feel like a chess match. You can almost hear the pieces clicking.

The “Jeff Daniels Effect”
Here’s my theory: Jeff Daniels has a secret superpower. He can make mundane dialogue feel like Shakespeare. In The Tunnel, there’s a moment where he’s ordering a coffee—just a simple “black, no sugar”—and the barista asks, “Is that for here or to go?” He stares at her for a beat and mutters, “Nowhere, apparently.” It’s a throwaway line, but thanks to his delivery, it lands like a punch.
I texted my friend again after Episode 3: “He’s doing the thing. The thing where he makes you uncomfortable and fascinated.” She responded, “That’s just his face. It’s been doing that since The Squid and the Whale.” She’s not wrong. Daniels has a face that seems to hold secrets—wrinkles that feel earned, eyebrows that question your life choices.
But Is It For Everyone?
Honestly? No. If you want a light, breezy show where everything wraps up with a hug, this isn’t it. The Tunnel is slow in the best way. It builds tension like a pressure cooker with a faulty valve. You’ll find yourself holding your breath during scenes that are just two people talking in a glass-walled room.
There’s also a subplot involving Arthur’s estranged daughter (played by newcomer Arianna Ortiz) that feels a tad rushed. But Daniels and Ortiz have this awkward, electric chemistry that saves it—the kind of father-daughter dynamic where every conversation sounds like a therapy session disguised as an argument.

The Verdict (So Far)
If you’re a fan of Black Mirror or Severance? Watch this immediately. Daniels is doing what he does best: exploring the cracks in people who think they’re whole. The show’s creators (the same team behind The Killing) have crafted a world that feels both claustrophobic and vast—like a bunker with a window to nowhere.
I’m already dreading the season finale, because I know Daniels will drop some monologue that makes me question my own career choices. (I’m a writer; do I need a bunker? Does my laptop count as one?)
Side note: Did you spot the Easter egg in Episode 1? There’s a newspaper headline that reads “Will McAvoy Media Corp. Faces Inquiry.” It made me laugh out loud. The writers clearly know their audience.
Final Thought (While You Go Stream It)
I’ll leave you with this: watch the first ten minutes. If you don’t feel a chill when Daniels walks into an empty bunker, turns off the lights, and just stares at the dark, then maybe this show isn’t for you. But if you do? Buckle up. The Tunnel is going to mess with your head—and you’re going to thank Jeff Daniels for it.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have Episode 5 waiting.
