Anyone who grew up in the suburbs knows how weird some of your neighbors can be. Unless it was you, and you’re the weird one. Inspired by the 1989 Tom Hanks starrer written by Dana Olsen, Peacock revisits the murder-laced cul-de-sacs and suburban paranoia that hit so hard with “Desperate Housewives”—but this time with a campy-creepy factor, and a massive abandoned pink Victorian to fixate on.
Samira (Keke Palmer) and Rob (Jack Whitehall) move into his childhood home in the small town of Hinkley Hills. “The Safest Town in America.” The couple is newly married and the parents of a baby boy, but Samira is an urbanite litigator and starts to get twitchy while stuck in the ‘burbs with nothing to do except people watch. She befriends a few of her equally nosy neighbors, but nothing captures her imagination like the ramshackle cotton-candy colored “haunted house” at the top of the cul-de-sac. The place sets off her intuition that something is wrong—especially when she learns the teenage girl who lived there went missing and was never found. We, as the audience, might credit Samira’s suspicions to boredom. Then again, Rob is hiding something, a shadowy new neighbor moves into the Victorian, and “The ‘Burbs” twists its viewers inside out on an episode-by-episode search for the truth.
Back in February ’89, Roger Ebert reviewed the original movie, and despite its burgeoning cult status, he was less than enthused. I’ll admit I giggled when he called “The ‘Burbs” movie a “shaggy dog story,” a colloquialism that implies a story is overly long and winding with an anticlimactic ending. But for this review, I found another connection. The Peacock series reminds me of a canine of a different kind: Scooby Dooby Doo. And here’s what will surprise you: that’s not a dig, but a compliment. “The ‘Burbs” introduces us to a charismatic and completely bonkers Scooby Gang who help Samira chase clues and get into trouble.
The cast of characters who dwell on a piece of pop-culture real estate triangulated among Agatha Christie, “The Addams Family,” and “Dead to Me” includes Julia Duffy as Lynn, the classic homemaker who won’t let anyone into her house. Paula Pell as Dana, the military vet who never leaves the neighborhood. Mark Proksch as Tod, the one most likely to be a super spy and Dungeon Master (secretly my favorite). And Kapil Talwalkar as Naveen, Rob’s childhood best friend, who’s most likely to be the secret identity of a famous DJ—except he would have told on himself by now.
Showrunner Celeste Hughey (“Palm Royale,” “Dead to Me”) plays this cast to their strengths. When the writing wobbles, they never do. Although, unlike the original film, who did what and how it’s going to end isn’t so obvious. We don’t see the closing cliffhanger coming until right before. Palmer, Pell, Proksch, and Talwalkar might as well be at an amusement park with the amount of fun they’re having, and how seriously the entire cast plays the most absurd situations and sentiments. This is creepy comedy, but “The ‘Burbs” is fueled by paranoia, and the emotional triggers that linger from moments in life we can’t shake. Is it silly? For sure. Peacock made a good call releasing all 8 episodes at once—allowing viewers to snack on this show like popcorn at their own pace.
As an aside, my compliments to the music department. Watching this show became a sing-along in my living room, and when songs like “Disturbia” drop, they’re all in the right places.
Mixing over-the-top hijinks with amateur detectives, the series is smart about the personalities of bored people and the paranoia that takes over when life becomes monotonous. With its cold case leanings and mystery antics, “The ‘Burbs” feels like an alternate universe live-action “Scooby Doo,” and just like your weird suburban neighbors, that’s oddly satisfying to watch.
