In television’s heyday, we got antiheroes like Tony Soprano, Walter White, Don Draper, and Saul Goodman. Now, you can add Ray Shoesmith to the list.

Each of those characters follows a familiar trajectory: a slow descent into ego-driven destruction, often culminating in a tragic downfall. The antihero story is an Ozymandias tale—ambition, hubris, and ultimately, ruin.

But Mr Inbetween subverts this in a way few shows have. Ray Shoesmith, its protagonist, is the greatest antihero you’ve never heard of because he doesn’t change.

Played by the show’s creator, Scott Ryan, Ray is a hitman, a father, and an ex-husband who operates with a level of self-awareness that most antiheroes lack.

He knows who he is and never fights it. He doesn’t justify or excuse his choices. He handles business when it needs handling and then goes home to read bedtime stories to his daughter.

Unlike Walter White, whose transformation from desperate teacher to ruthless kingpin was fueled by ego, or Tony Soprano, who spent years in therapy dancing around his own toxicity, Ray is refreshingly simple.

Ray does bad things, but he isn’t conflicted about them. He’ll just as easily beat a man half to death as he will crack a joke about it later. And sometimes, he’ll admit that violence is the answer.

That level of detachment makes Mr Inbetween a rare find. The show never indulges in the melodrama that defines most crime sagas. It doesn’t rely on elaborate plot twists or high-stakes betrayals.

The series simply presents a man who is very good at what he does, living his life in a way that feels almost mundane. The show’s humor, often delivered in the most casual of moments, makes Ray all the more likable.

He’s a killer, but he’s funny. He’s dangerous, but he’s polite. He has an anger problem, but sometimes that works in his favor.

His relationships are what make him truly fascinating. He has a strict moral code, though it only applies to the people he cares about. His best friend, Gary, is a lovable screw-up who constantly gets himself into trouble. Ray protects him, even as he scolds him. His relationship with his brother, who suffers from a degenerative disease, reveals a softer side, but never in an over-the-top way.

His role as a father is perhaps his most defining trait—he loves his daughter unconditionally, but he also teaches her that the world is not kind. In one particularly telling moment, he instructs her to handle a bully not by reporting it, but by standing up for herself. He doesn’t believe in turning the other cheek.

Despite critical acclaim and a devoted cult following, Mr Inbetween never gained the mass recognition of Breaking Bad or The Sopranos. Maybe because it never asks for it.

The show ended on its own terms after three seasons, avoiding the mistake of dragging its story into unnecessary complexity. And just like Ray, it remained consistent.

No grand spectacle, no moral reckoning, no fall from grace. Just a man who knew who he was from the beginning and never pretended otherwise.