There’s something about a crime family saga wrapped up in betrayal and recklessness that makes it hard to look away. Netflix’s “The Waterfront” capitalizes on it. Premiering June 19, the eight-episode series serves up a Southern-fried gothic tale set in the lovely but nefarious fictional coastal town of Havenport, North Carolina. Think of it as a throwback to the nighttime soaps of the ’80s and ’90s, like “Dallas” or “Falcon Crest,” but updated for our streaming era. Comparisons to “Succession” might arise, but it’s more like “Melrose Place” on the seas, with less snark, more sharks, and a slice of “Vanderpump Rules.” If you’re imagining a primetime soap crossed with a crime drama. You’ve got it. Let’s jump in.
The latest from creator Kevin Williamson, “The Waterfront” draws inspiration from true events. Some elements are autobiographical, reflecting his father’s connections to the fishing industry. However, the origins of the brutal crime that serves as the story’s engine remain a mystery, a secret Netflix is keeping for now. The series centers around the Buckley family, who are scrambling to keep their failing fishing empire afloat. But their problems aren’t business as usual, and their woes are fueled by desperation. As the family business falters, buried resentments bubble up to the surface like crude oil—lucrative but volatile.
Williamson, regarded for “Scream,” “Dawson’s Creek,” and “The Vampire Diaries,” brings his signature style to “The Waterfront.” The first two episodes are directed by Marcos Siega (“Dexter: New Blood,” “You”), with Liz Friedlander (“Bad Monkey,” “The Lincoln Lawyer”) helming the third. The visual polish is undeniable, capturing the duplicity between the Buckleys’ sunlit respectability and the blood stains just below the surface.
This family doesn’t just get dirty. They thrive in it. Honesty seems distasteful to them, as though they were born for the muck and mud. Their chief hellraiser is Harlan Buckley (Holt McCallany), a whiskey-loving patriarch who built the family’s fishing company in the ’80s with his own father—often by skirting the law. After two heart attacks, Harlan has supposedly stepped back from the business, leaving his son Cane (Jake Weary) in charge. But don’t let Poppa Buckley’s retirement fool you. When he starts chumming the water, it’s clear he’s slipping back into his old ways.
At Harlan’s side is Momma Buckley, Belle (Maria Bello), a restauranteur who radiates down-home Vanderpump energy. She quietly rules the family with shrewd observations and silken influence. Meanwhile, Cane is descending into a loss-of-innocence spiral. Not only did he reintroduce the family to the drug trade but—torn between his marriage to Peyton (Danielle Campbell) and unresolved feelings for his high school sweetheart Jenna (Humberly González)—this man-child is teetering on the edge of self-destruction.
Then there’s Bree Buckley (Melissa Benoist), the sharp, quick-tempered daughter who’s clawing her way out of a contentious marriage while struggling to stay sober. Her attempts to reconnect with her teenage son, Diller (Brady Hepner), are complicated by their supervised visits and get worse once Diller joins the family business. He idolizes his grandfather but only shows resentment for his mother. Circling around them is DEA Agent Marcus Sanchez (Gerardo Celasco), who doesn’t mind waiting around for The Buckleys to make a mistake. Maybe more people should call the feds and turn state’s evidence when things go sideways, but where’s the drama in that?
It’s The Buckleys. They’re the drama, but so is the entire town of Havenport. Everyone is messy, scandalous, and prone to addiction. Every episode is packed with plot twists and perspective flips, from drug runners hiding behind familiar faces to betrayals that threaten to upend this fragile empire and already fracturing family. And just when you dare to get comfortable, episode one ends with a juicy twist that sets the tone for the havoc to come …but it’s all so soapy.
I hope it’s not an indicator of my own repressed villainy, but the best thing about “The Waterfront” is a string of truly spectacular and nicely choreographed murders that’ll get your schadenfreude pumping. It’s because the various romantic entanglements don’t heat up enough to sizzle. While these scofflaw characters are chock full of scandals, salaciousness, and secrets, they’re missing the complexities that yank us into more addictive dramas. Yes, their past transgressions pounce on them repeatedly, but they don’t have the quirks of character—the unexpected details, the yearnings or strange habits—that endear even the Walter Whites and Logan Roys to us. The most interesting storyline, so far in the trio of episodes sent to press, is watching Cane Buckley surrender his innocence while clinging to his self-proclaimed hometown hero status (even though no one else is buying it).
“The Waterfront” is as pretty as a dish served at one of those Southern chain restaurants, where everything is fried up golden brown, dripping in butter, and generous in sides, but while it looks good, it doesn’t have a lot of flavor. Not yet. You can trust me on this; I’m a North Carolina girl. I know what home cooking looks like, and maybe the show will get there; it has the needed ingredients.
I’ve watched three episodes, and I’ll confess: If not for you, dear reader, I would have stopped after the first one, even with its juicy and well-plotted ending. As a journalist, I can imagine this primetime-styled melodrama building an audience that enjoys the anarchic Buckleys and the havoc they cause in Havenport, NC, a town located somewhere between “Ginny & Georgia” and “Ozark” with a “Melrose” roadmap. If you go visit, come back and tell us how you liked it.
Three episodes screened for press. Now on Netflix.
