Southern Fried Lies (Peacock) Review: Small Town, Big Secrets

Peacock| 1 Episode | 2025

Rating: 4 out of 5 – A true crime tale that looks like sweet tea but hits like moonshine. Deceptively cozy, surprisingly cold.

Camden, Arkansas: a quiet Southern town where the gossip flows like gravy at a church potluck and the truth takes its time showing up. Southern Fried Lies might look like your standard “funeral with questions” true crime story, but beneath the porch swing exterior lies a family saga so tangled it could trip a preacher.

At the heart of the story is a sudden death that doesn’t sit quite right, a funeral that moves a little too quickly, and a will that seems too convenient to be true. As questions ripple through the small town, what unfolds is less about the crime itself and more about the quiet power plays, shifting loyalties, and the one woman, Donna Herring, who seems to hold all the strings. Or does she? (I'm channeling Keith Morrison with this one). Of course, with a last name like Herring, it’s almost poetic. There’s misdirection baked into the name itself, though whether Donna’s a red herring or the hand baiting the hook, well… that’s for you to decide.

This 1-hour-and-25-minute Peacock/Oxygen original gets nearly everything right. No bloated runtime. No drawn-out docuseries drama. Just a sharply edited, tightly told account of a death that rocked a town and a cast of characters straight out of a Southern noir novel.

Southern Fried Lies (Peacock) Review: Format and Presentation

One of the most refreshing elements here is what Southern Fried Lies doesn’t do: it doesn’t milk the runtime or pad the story. The pacing is spot on. If this had been stretched across multiple episodes, it would have worn thin. Instead, it’s divided into three clean parts that flow seamlessly and hit hard.

Stylistically, the film leans into its Southern roots with intention. Title screens feature textured country wallpaper, and the filmmakers use a clever visual motif: framed portraits of key people arranged like heirlooms on the patterned background, each connected to Donna in some way, like a murder board disguised as home decor. It’s visually engaging without trying too hard, giving the story an cozy, lived-in feel.

Recreations are used sparingly and tastefully, serving to add to the story rather than dramatize. The soundtrack enhances the mood without hijacking it, striking a solid balance that supports rather than distracts.

And the lower third? Chef’s kiss. Every single time someone appears on screen, their name and relationship to the story is shown, without fail. It sounds like a small thing, but it’s the kind of attention to clarity that too many documentaries ignore.

Interview Access and Ethical Framing

What really stands out is the range of voices included. Nearly everyone involved appears on screen, offering emotional insight and firsthand perspective. It’s rare to see that kind of access in a single-episode format.

Still, there are some conspicuous absences. Doug Herring, Donna’s husband, declined to participate, which is interesting, to say the least. Donna’s sister and brother-in-law, who were also part of the narrative, aren’t interviewed either, and no reason is given. That silence? Fishy.

Another notable absence: Alex. Donna's daughter and Matt's fiancée at the time, is also not interviewed. Her silence, like the others, is never explained, and it leaves a noticeable gap in the narrative.

On the flip side, the townspeople interviews are a standout. Filmed in natural environments like hardware stores and beauty salons, these conversations feel as authentic as a gossip session under a hair dryer. It captures the real heartbeat of a small town in crisis, and that grounding elevates the entire film.

Acts Nice, Is Mean: A Regional Personality Map, or a Donna Vibe Check?

There’s a meme that breaks the U.S. down into four personality types, mapped by region. It’s meant to be funny, but when you’ve spent enough time meeting people from all over the USA, it starts to feel like a field guide.

In Southern Fried Lies, Donna lands squarely in the “Acts nice, is mean” quadrant. The gray hair. The gentle Southern twang. The cooking for everyone and the hugs. She presents like a comforting grandmother, but behind those glasses, something colder ticks away.

This documentary lets that contrast simmer. It never outright tells you who to trust, but it gives you enough to wonder: is that kindness, or is it camouflage?

Final Verdict

Southern Fried Lies might not make headlines for shock value, but what it offers is something rarer: a respectful, well-paced, and visually thoughtful look at a quiet case with loud implications. It doesn’t waste your time. It doesn’t overstay its welcome. It just does what it came to do and does it well.

Rating: 4 out of 5 A perfectly portioned serving of Southern suspense. Not too long, not too lean, and just enough spice to make your jaw drop.

Case closed.🔍 Verdict delivered. ⚖️

Stay hydrated.💧 Don’t trust a casserole just because it’s warm. 🍲

🕵️‍♀️ The Emerald Sleuth, calling it a night. 💚