How is it possible that Apple TV’s high-budget “Palm Royale” doesn’t work? With this insanely talented cast and trendy concept, it should be a slam dunk, right? The main reason it’s not is a depressingly common one in today’s TV and streaming landscape: It’s the wrong length. Like so many recent projects, it wears out its welcome with narrative diversions that don’t work and subplots that sag in the middle of the season to the point where it becomes impossible to care. Inconsistent characters that wallow in their shallowness become grating when you have to spend this much time with them, leading to a period comedy/thriller that comes to life in fits and starts but can’t find a reason for viewers to care over ten hours. It’s about a person who desperately wants to be a part of a specific social scene, but you’re more likely just to want to leave it.
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None of the failures of “Palm Royale” can be blamed on Kristen Wiig. The “Bridesmaids” star does some of her career-best work, bringing a jittery desperation to the part of Maxine, a woman who essentially tries to “Saltburn” her way into the elite housewife society of Palm Beach in 1969. Maxine will do anything to belong, starting by literally climbing a wall to sneak into the private club frequented by the most idolized and fashionable socialites in the Sunshine State. That she’s almost immediately spotted and booted by a bartender named Robert (an excellent Ricky Martin, proving that he should do this kind of thing more often) doesn’t really slow her down. She will do anything it takes.
Maxine’s somewhat dark secret—although not dark enough really given the current trend of imposters in Emerald Fennell’s divisive film and the upcoming “Ripley”—is that she’s borrowing the life of a comatose woman named Norma (Carol Burnett) essentially taking her family name and social status after marrying her nonchalant nephew Douglas (Josh Lucas). She’s dressing up in Norma’s clothes and trying to take her spot in the pecking order, but that’s not as easy as it sounds. Maxine finds a way in initially through a woman named Dinah (Leslie Bibb), who ends up pregnant with the child of one of the club workers and needs Maxine’s help. Before she knows it, Maxine is lunching with the upper class, but queen maker Evelyn (Allison Janney) won’t have it, sensing that something is wrong with this social climber. Meanwhile, Linda (Laura Dern) seems to be the antithesis of everything this high society stands for, focusing her women’s group on equal rights and the end of the Vietnam War, but even Linda has a few secrets that could be her undoing. Everyone does in Palm Beach, and Maxine will use every last one of them to her advantage.
Despite the few times in which it feels like it’s almost satirizing the genre, “Palm Royale” is essentially a soap opera with an A-list cast. It’s a genre that has become glutted since the success of “Big Little Lies”—high-profile mystery dramas with a cast filled with award winners. The ensemble assembled for this one is ludicrously talented, which means there are bound to be moments of greatness in “Palm Royale”—how could there NOT be with this crew? Whether it’s an unexpected line reading by Wiig, a subtle choice by Dern, or the overwhelming charisma of Martin, “Palm Royale” features moments of excellence, amplified by not just the leads but a rotating cast of effective supporting players like Kaia Gerber, Julia Duffy, and the legendary Bruce Dern. It’s also worth noting that “Palm Royale” looks absolutely fantastic regarding the kind of production and costume design usually reserved for Hollywood productions. Some may be patient with it merely to see the next gorgeous outfit.
If it looks great and has a spectacular cast, why is “Palm Royale” so boring? After a reasonably effective premiere directed by Tate Taylor (“The Help”), “Palm Royale” seems content to spin its wheels in ways that feel increasingly pointless. What is creator Abe Sylvia, adapting “Mr. & Mrs. American Pie” by Juliet McDaniel, trying to say? How are we supposed to feel about Maxine? Are we supposed to root for her to succeed, or are the hints that she might be a bit too obsessed a sign of bad behavior to come? Is this satire, thriller, soap, comedy? None of the above? While juggling tones can lead to brilliance, it feels, in this case, more like indecisiveness than genre-breaking. There’s a big difference.
It doesn’t help that “Palm Royale” keeps gesturing to something more serious through Linda’s group. Is the joke that people like Maxine are dedicating their lives to the shallow trappings of excess while people die in Vietnam? The storytelling just doesn’t have the teeth to make that theme anything but skin-deep. It wants to have it both ways, mocking the ladies of Palm Beach while also wanting us to root for them at the same time, trying to exist somewhere between camp and commentary. It leads to characters that ultimately feel as deep as a kiddie pool and writing with all the buzz of a mocktail. By the middle of the season, all the charm of the casting and design elements have worn off, leaving nothing but a hollow exercise in style. Like so much of the world of wealth and excess, it looks great but means nothing. [C-]