Pops Watched TV: DTF ST. LOUIS

 For the past month or so, I’ve been proselytizing HBO’s DTF ST. LOUIS to friends, praising it as being something truly unique in an ocean of streaming television: A pitch black comedy / murder whodunit about sex in the suburbs, middle age ennui, and identity crises that was simultaneously twisted and unexpectedly sweet. Jason Bateman, David Harbour, and Linda Cardellini play friends caught in a complicated three-way affair that ends in the death of Harbour’s character, Floyd Smernitch. Two detectives, a grizzled older white man played by Richard Jenkins and a young African American woman (Joy Sunday) investigating the case focus on Floyd’s wife, Carol (Cardellini) and best friend, local meteorologist Clark (Bateman), and what initially seems like a typical tale of suburban infidelity leading to murder (for reasons financial or jealousy?) unravels as the details of the three lives are slowly laid bare (literally). 

Harbour is particularly moving as Floyd, a tortured, gentle soul desperately trying to find human connection. His relationship with his stepson, Richard (Arlan Ruf) will rend your heart in all of the ways it can be rended. Bateman evokes middle age weariness in a way that will make anyone who grew up watching him on TV feel every ache and pain they’ve ever endured. Cardellini’s Carol often comes across as cold (particularly towards the climax), making her rare moments of warmth and love have real resonance. The performances are all great, and often startling in their honesty. Which makes the ending (it’s not a spoiler, it’s the setup of the show) all the more painful. 

But not the good kind of dramatic painful. As the show’s final moments played out, I was left asking, What’s the Point? DTF ST. LOUIS goes to great, at time excruciating lengths to show us the complexity in these three characters (Clark’s wife, Eimy is barely in the series, presumably for a reason, although I can’t help but think having her more fleshed out would’ve helped us understand Clark’s situation more), but in the end, all we get is sadness. There’s no catharsis for anyone, no greater understanding of why life is so fucking hard, no silver lining woven into the tragedy. Everyone is just suffering (unless you count the detectives, who grow closer as a result of the investigation). 

Anyone who was frustrated by the conclusion of OZARK will feel familiar pangs of longing for a more just ending with DTF ST. LOUIS, but, as with Bateman’s crime drama, there’s more than enough good here to make it worth watching. But goddamn, it’s not an easy watch.