Netflix’s ’Ozark’ Nails What It Can Be Like to Go Off Mental Health Medication

For those who have never seen it, “Ozark” is a Netflix crime drama series following the lives of Martin “Marty” Byrde (played by Jason Bateman) and his wife Wendy (played by Laura Linney). After a money laundering scheme for a Mexican drug cartel goes wrong, the Byrdes must make up for it by moving to the Lake of Ozarks region in Missouri to set up a bigger laundering operation.

• What is Bipolar disorder?

“Ozark” is not a show I originally thought I would enjoy; a show centered around drugs and money laundering didn’t seem to grab me just from the plot, that is until I started watching it. I didn’t really know what to expect when I entered the lives of the Byrde family, but I found myself entangled in their mess and wondering how they could possibly get out of it. It’s easy to see how the characters in a show like this could eventually showcase real issues such as denial and grief. But what about mental illness? Mental health is portrayed in the media more and more, but accuracy is always hard to come by.

Enter Ben Davis (played by Tom Pelphrey), whom we come to meet during season three. He is Wendy’s brother, and we find out early on that he has bipolar disorder. During our initial meeting with him, we see how carefree and happy he is — someone who definitely has a reckless side but seems fine nonetheless. He meets someone and falls in love, he hangs out with his family he hasn’t seen in years, and he enjoys living life in the Ozarks. But then the tone shifts and we see that he starts to unravel when secrets are no longer hidden and his world begins to fall apart. We learn that he recently went off his medication, the one thing that seemed to help keep him stable.

Pelphrey, the actor that portrays Ben, displays one of the best performances of bipolar that I have ever seen. I cried when he cried, I laughed when he laughed, and I related to every reckless impulse he had or made. I related to him when he realized that life is too hard and complicated and nothing can help cure that pain. I related to him when his racing thoughts became too much as he rambled to a cab driver. I related when he begged and screamed to not be locked away in a mental health facility. I related to him when he apologized over and over again for things beyond his control; I related to him when he constantly tried to make it right but typically made it worse.

I’ve read reviews of this season, especially the final few episodes, and while I see many people praising the actor for his spot-on portrayal, I also see people bashing the character for being overdramatic and whiney. While I sit here and obsess over how nice it is to feel seen, I’m also left obsessing over how horrible it is to feel misunderstood.

Ben never wanted to admit he was sick, just like I never want to admit I am too. He never understood why this was happening to him because he didn’t do anything wrong, just like I would feel during my highs where I acted impulsively instead of rationally. Watching him go from “medicated” to “unmedicated” hit hard for me because I’ve been there many times. It is a tough pill to swallow to know that one of the only things that really helps is the one thing you wish you didn’t need.

It’s character moments like this that I hope continue to appear in more shows in the future. It’s nice to see Hollywood is embracing tough stories with accurate portrayals instead of graphic images for shock value. While there will always be people who don’t understand something, it felt good to read those reviews of others who do. It shows that people out there understand the situation being played out on the screen isn’t just a man being whiney, but a man who is going through inner turmoil. I praise this show, and Tom Pelphrey, for the excellent work they did and I look forward to more moments like this.