We certainly have a glut of these shows—you know the ones where thin white people convene on a cold beach to compare notes and solve intrigues. Nicole Kidman has practically made a cottage industry out of them: “Big Little Lies,” “The Undoing,” “The Perfect Couple.”
But somehow, “The Five-Star Weekend” manages to surprise, even though so many of its beats are predetermined.
Adapted from the Elin Hilderbrand novel of the same name by developer Bekah Brunstetter, Peacock’s latest series takes us to that favorite place in the white imagination (a character literally calls it “a white-person clam island”): Cape Cod. Jennifer Garner is the queen bee there, as Hollis Shaw, a recently widowed baking influencer who grew up on the island. Now she’s back, trying to figure out this grief thing by hosting a grown-up sleepover with four friends from various stages of her life. Together, they’re “the five stars”—get it?
And no, Hollis does not find a dead body in that first episode, uncover a local cult, or learn that her husband was part of some international crime syndicate. Based on a book of the same name, “The Five-Star Weekend” goes for more quotidian drama. Its concerns are the five-and-a-half women (Hollis’s nearly grown daughter comes, too) and the personal inflection points they’re facing.
That might make for a dull miniseries. But after just a few episodes, it’s easy to find yourself caring for these women despite yourself (and the genre trappings of amazing outfits, soft lighting, and a bucolic setting).
Certainly, the stacked cast goes a long way in selling this journey of middle-aged discovery. There’s Regina Hall (a standout) as Dru-Ann, a sports agent who’s facing cancellation during her weekend on the Cape. Hall gives her plenty of hard edges and doesn’t forsake them even as she reveals the heart behind Dru’s tough love.
Chloë Sevigny embodies another difficult woman with some soft spots. As Hollis’ childhood friend is left behind, Tatum is quick to judge and happy to play the bad guy—even though she’s the only one in the bunch in a healthy romantic relationship. And the scenes of her husband supporting her are some of the show’s most poignant, even as Sevigny turns her signature difficult-to-love vibe up to eleven.
D’Arcy Carden plays the insecure-mom friend who needs to figure out who she is, while Gemma Chan is the newbie with something to hide in the show’s one and only attempt at a (very-guessable) twist. They’re all easy to root for adults who make mistakes but soldier on.
And in the center is Garner, playing the type of woman other women say “has it all together.” And “The Five-Star Weekend” does something smart here—it doesn’t argue that Hollis is secretly a mess or should be. The series never pushes Hollis past the breaking point.
Instead, “The Five-Star Weekend” investigates what it costs to have it all together—how Hollis’ control hurts her relationship with her daughter, how it makes her a less reliable friend, and how it may make it harder for her to achieve happiness. Because Hollis is a woman who makes a detailed agenda for this five-star weekend, including Instagrammable meals and outings, and uses that agenda as a crutch. What should you do when your sense of peace has shattered? The next thing on the agenda—even if it’s as ill-fitting to the occasion as a pizza party! There’s always another photo shoot-worthy attraction ahead.
And in this way, “The Five-Star Weekend” gently nudges Hollis to confront herself. She has to ask whether the whole order still suits her, or if she gives herself some leeway to be less than perfect? And it’s a daunting question not only because her livelihood depends on a high-level of curation. These questions are asking her to buck so many of the promised rewards of her particular brand of femininity – she’s figured out how to be the fit, beautiful homemaker and monetize it. She’s achieved the zenith of white womanhood, and it is not enough.
Which is to say “The Five-Star Weekend” is a show for grown-ups. It has plenty of humor, beauty, and fancy things to covet, but mostly it’s a gentle look at the human condition; don’t let its prestige casting and setting fool you. These women are not antiheroes; they’re just people trying to make their way. And that basic struggle is big enough to propel this eight-part series along (and maybe power more—the book doesn’t yet have a sequel, but the show leaves the possibility open).
More than powering the plot, though, the show’s focus on the regular problems people face – when to switch careers, how to deal with loss, how to trust yourself – is downright refreshing, particularly given the cast’s female focus. Here are a few hours spent in a narrative that takes women’s internal lives seriously! Perhaps it’s not new, but it does feel different in our wash of murder mysteries everywhere, from teen dramas to white bourgeois affairs.
And that newness, along with the sheer talent radiating off this small screen, is enough to tune in and keep watching. Oh, and the beautiful shots of food help too.
