Streaming on: Apple TV+
Episodes viewed: 10 of 10
Opening with a body floating alone in ink-dark water, Palm Royale looks like it’s going to be a murder-mystery in the Bad Sisters or White Lotus vein. But this is something of a misdirection. While we will find out how that person wound up plunging to the seabed in billowing couture, the mystery is just a small element of what makes this show so delicious. Camp, lavish, and with lots of smart ideas tucked into its silly mood, it’s about a woman — and a country — adrift, but refusing to sink without a fight.
The body in the water is Maxine Simmons (Kristen Wiig), a small-town woman with no money but big ambitions, determined to be a part of Palm Beach high society, whatever it takes. Paying her way by hocking the jewellery of a wealthy, comatose — for now — relative (Carol Burnett), Maxine sets her sights on joining the exclusive Palm Royale club, which means winning over its withering queen bees, Evelyn (Allison Janney) and Dinah (Leslie Bibb). This layer is tremendous fun, soap-operatic in its stories of affairs, secret relatives and criminal sidelines, all of which Maxine can use to try to claw her way up the social ladder, while hoping her own secrets won’t drag her back down.
The overall experience is so fizzy, luscious and imaginative that you’ll want to keep staying for one more round.
It's all played by a cast of exceptional quality. Wiig anchors it wonderfully. She’s funny, of course, but she plays Maxine’s insecurity delicately, eliciting sympathy for a character whose actions might seem purely selfish. Janney is part Dorothy Parker, part RuPaul as über-snob Evelyn. Support includes Laura and Bruce Dern, Bibb, Ricky Martin and Josh Lucas. That sense of opulence carries through every element. It all looks incredibly expensive, from Alix Friedberg’s costumes (a weapon to these women) and Jon Carlos’ more-is-more production design.
It's not glamorous froth. Like Mr. & Mrs. American Pie, the Juliet McDaniel novel it’s based on, this is in part satire of an unbalanced America. It’s set in 1969, a year when everything seems possible and everything is falling apart. Neil Armstrong is taking a giant leap onto the moon. Nixon is creeping into the White House. Civil-rights, feminist and gay-rights movements are exploding. The Vietnam War is dividing the nation. Palm Royale takes in all this, as reality intrudes on cocktails by the pool. When it tries to pivot to more dramatic moments the tonal shift can be a touch lurchy, but the overall experience is so fizzy, luscious and imaginative that you’ll want to keep staying for one more round.