This show is based on Philip K. Dick’s novel. It is science fiction, of course. Picture this: an alternate universe where Axis powers rule. United States split into three parts: Greater Nazi Reich, Japanese Pacific States and a neutral zone. Characters fight to survive under totalitarian regimes. They resist, struggle and just try to live. Premiered on Amazon Prime Video in 2015, wrapped up in 2019. Quite a ride, huh?

Meet the characters from The Man in the High Castle

Juliana Crain

Juliana is the fierce, messy heart of the story — equal parts stubborn survivor and idealistic truth-seeker who always seems to stumble into something much bigger than she expects. She’s drawn to those strange underground films like a moth to flame and will argue philosophy in the middle of a road trip, then cry over pasta she burned but ate anyway. There’s this naive streak (like she trusts people too quickly) and also this hard, practical edge where she makes impossible choices and somehow keeps going. Oh and she hums terrible pop songs sometimes when she’s stressed — don’t ask why.

Joe Blake

Joe is slippery in the best possible way — charming, dangerous, and confusing even to himself a lot of the time. He plays at being the perfect courier/spy with that clean-cut look, but there’s a kid inside who still believes in big ideals, which is both tragic and kind of endearing. He keeps secrets like treasures and collects weird little maps for reasons he won’t admit; also he’s inexplicably fond of peppermint candies. You can never quite tell which side he’s on, which makes him thrilling and annoying in equal measure.

John Smith

John is terrifyingly competent and ridiculously devoted to order — think cool, meticulous efficiency with a terrifying moral chill. He’s a family man in a way that’s almost deliciously domestic (likes a neat house, precise routines), yet utterly ruthless when ideology says so — the contrast is what makes him fascinating and creepy. There’s something almost vulnerable under his medals, like he protects his son with a tenderness that’s dangerous because it’s fanatical. He also apparently has a favorite brand of shoe polish and will bemoan bad jazz records, which is somehow both petty and human.

Frank Frink

Frank is a wounded artisan with a short fuse and a giant, stubborn heart; he makes things and he protects people and he’s always suspicious of the world. He’s fierce about his craftsmanship — metals, jewelry, whatever — and can flip from quiet, aching sadness to explosive righteous anger in a heartbeat. There’s tenderness too; he carves silly little whistles when he’s nervous and keeps a few secret tattoos he pretends not to remember getting. He’s messy, loyal, and deeply private, which is exactly why he gets under everyone’s skin.

Inspector Kido

Kido is rigid, disciplined, and somehow eerily calm — the kind of man who makes you feel watched even when he’s polite. He enforces order with a quiet, almost ceremonial efficiency and believes in honor and duty like it’s a religion, which it kind of is for him. He’s mysterious too — full of small rituals, visits to shrines, and bizarre little superstitions (he collects tiny matchbox labels? maybe), and occasionally you catch a glimpse of real moral conflict under the uniform. He’s the kind of character who’ll stare at you and you’ll swear you did something wrong even if you didn’t.

Helen Smith

Helen looks like she has it all together — poised, stylish, the perfect hostess — but there’s this slow, aching discontent simmering under every tea ceremony. She clings to appearances because that’s her language: needlework, polite smiles, and hosting immaculate dinners, but she also asks dangerous questions in tiny, careful ways. She’s both fragile and quietly fierce — like she might break if you prod, or she might quietly dismantle your whole world, depending on the day. Fun fact: she lights cigarettes in the dark for reasons she’ll never admit, which doesn’t fit the whole “proper woman” vibe and is kind of great.

Robert Childan

Childan is a flustered, proud dealer of Americana with an almost goofy reverence for objects and the people who want them. He’s desperate for approval from the powerful and will fawn, bluff, and occasionally hurt someone’s feelings to feel important, which makes him both funny and kind of tragic. He knows his antiques, loves the stories attached to things, and yet is baffled by his own courage sometimes — like he’ll suddenly stand up for someone and you go, “wait, since when?” He collects weird little badges and has a pothos plant he insists on talking to, which is either sweet or absolutely ridiculous.

Ed McCarthy

Ed is the pragmatic, blue-collar heart — loyal, blunt, and somehow always doing the heavy lifting for people who aren’t always grateful. He’s practical to a fault: fixes cars, solves problems, gives the kind of advice your dad would, and he actually cries at movies sometimes, which he denies. He’s funny in a dry way and fiercely protective of his friends; if you need someone to turn up with tools at 3 a.m., Ed’s the one. Also he makes a mean chili; it’s a little spicy and full of personality, just like him.

Amy Smith

Amy is a fragile, odd little satellite in the Smith household — curious, lonely, and carrying this kind of childlike intensity that can be unsettling. She obsesses over small things (dolls, songs, little rituals) and then flips into a mood where the world seems too big and scary, which makes her unpredictable. There’s a quiet cleverness beneath the fluttering nerves: she notices things adults miss, and that’s dangerous in a world of secrets. One minute she’s giggling and arranging tea cups, the next she’s cold and distant — very small, very curious, very complicated.

Nobusuke Tagomi

Tagomi is gentleness wrapped in ceremony — a man of diplomacy and profound inner life who moves through the world with careful, almost devotional attention. He meditates, practices calligraphy, and treats tea like an art form; he’s the kind of person who carries silence like a weapon and a balm. Underneath the calm there’s this enormous moral weight; he’s constantly balancing duty with conscience, and sometimes he’s startlingly decisive in quiet ways. Also he has a ridiculous weakness for a particular brand of citrus candy, which humanizes him in the most adorable way.