For the Hitman's Dual Life: Mr. Inbetween
If you want the most direct spiritual successor to Barry, look no further than this Australian gem. Mr. Inbetween follows Ray Shoesmith, a criminal for hire, as he juggles his violent profession with his duties as a father, boyfriend, and friend. Where
Barry Berkman was tormented by his actions and desperate for an exit, Ray is grimly proficient and largely resigned to his reality. The show swaps Hollywood satire for a more grounded, working-class grit, but the DNA is unmistakable. Creator and star Scott Ryan infuses Ray with a deadpan wit and a surprising moral code that makes for riveting television. The violence is sudden and brutal, the humor is bone-dry, and the central tension comes from watching a man try to compartmentalize a life that refuses to stay in neat little boxes. It's less of a fever dream than Barry, feeling more like a stark, brutally honest documentary of a life lived on the edge.
For the Terrifying Therapy: The Patient
One of Barry's core themes was the desperate, often futile, search for redemption and change, frequently explored through Barry's sessions with Gene Cousineau. The Patient takes that concept and boils it down to its most terrifying essence. Steve Carell stars as a therapist who is taken captive by his new patient, a serial killer played by Domhnall Gleeson, who wants to be cured of his homicidal urges. Gone is the comedic buffer. This is a claustrophobic psychological thriller that strips the hitman-in-therapy trope of all its absurdity and leaves only the raw tension. It isolates the most compelling part of Barry's internal struggle—can a violent man truly change?—and places it under a microscope in a high-stakes hostage scenario. It’s a gut-wrenching, two-person play that will satisfy viewers who were most drawn to the dark, psychological horror underpinning Barry's journey.
For the Absurdist Melancholy: Patriot
This is the deep cut for fans who loved Barry's weirdest, most melancholic, and darkly funny impulses. Patriot is an espionage thriller, but describing it that way feels woefully incomplete. It follows intelligence officer John Tavner, a man suffering from severe PTSD who just wants to live a quiet life but is repeatedly pulled into dangerous missions by his father. The show shares Barry's knack for placing its deeply depressed protagonist in ludicrously high-stakes situations that are played with an almost unbearable straight face. Like Barry, John is a man trapped by a job he hates, and he channels his misery into a creative outlet—in his case, folk songs that detail his classified missions with alarming specificity. The tone is a delicate, often bizarre balance of spy drama, workplace comedy, and profound sadness, punctuated by moments of shocking violence. If you appreciated Barry's Coen Brothers-esque tonal tightrope walk, Patriot is your next obsession.
For the Satire and Moral Decay: Search Party
While not about a hitman, Search Party is perhaps the most astute parallel to the Hollywood satire and gradual moral corrosion of Barry's supporting cast. The show begins with a group of self-absorbed Brooklyn millennials who decide to investigate the disappearance of a former college acquaintance. What starts as a misguided quest for purpose quickly spirals into a dark, twisty crime story where the lines between right and wrong, victim and perpetrator, are irrevocably blurred. Dory and her friends, much like Sally, Gene, and the acting class, are fame-adjacent characters who stumble into a world of violence and consequence far beyond their comprehension. The show is a brilliant satire of millennial ennui and the performative nature of modern life, all while slowly tightening the screws of a genuine thriller. It perfectly captures that feeling from Barry of watching fundamentally unserious people get dragged into deadly serious trouble.
