One murder, 132 rooms, 157 suspects. The Residence is a whodunit—a genre similar to Cluedo—set within one of the world's most famous establishments, the White House itself. From employees to Australian dignitaries to the president, everyone can be suspected, even Kylie Minogue. And to lead the investigation, an ornithologist detective with atypical methods.
It's impossible to watch this new production by Shonda Rhimes for Netflix without thinking of another content in the streaming platform's catalog, Glass Onion, from Rian Johnson's Knives Out franchise, the third installment of which is coming soon to the SVoD service. Both projects share this taste for colorful characters, whether in the ranks of suspects or investigators, while inviting us to take the events with a certain lightness.
And if Johnson's license is not known for its tragic stories, there is nevertheless always a very serious undertone that The Residence does not embrace. On the contrary, the show created by Paul William Davies assumes an extravagance closer to the spirit of a work by Peter Sellers. Without falling into pure parody, The Residence is fundamentally a police comedy.
Crazy Eyes in the White House
On screen, this is notably manifested by the eternal opposition between the detective, played with malicious pleasure by Uzo Aduba, alias Crazy Eyes in Orange Is The New Black, and the rest of the cast. We are plunged into the heart of Idiocracy where our heroine shines as much for her intelligence as the others for their stupidity, suspects as well as allies. The blatantly drunk waitress, the libidinous Australian minister, the incompetent FBI agent, or the president's loser brother... The Residence is full of wacky and delicious protagonists.
All of them will reveal part of the mystery, even if it ultimately has little to do with the act stricto sensu. That's what The Residence is all about: a real murder amidst a multitude of unpredictable coincidences. We could end up being told that the man committed suicide with four stab wounds to the back, that within this story, it could become credible thanks to a series of situations so improbable that they end up being true.
And the pleasure of watching comes from there. Because there are as many versions of the facts as there are characters, and each interrogation will give rise to lies, more lies, and more outlandish justifications than the last. A game of ping-pong between a detective of few words and suspects who are far too talkative and rarely completely innocent. We can applaud the editing work done by Heather Capps, John Daigle, Ali Greer, and Roger Nygard, because the energy of the series relies heavily on the cuts moving from one line to the next before getting the big picture. It's rhythmic, incisive, and the first episodes go by like a letter in the post in terms of entertainment.
The series' narrative allows everyone to have their moment to shine, without the story forgetting them later on. So that no one really leaves the scene even when the spotlight is no longer on them. A spotlight made easier by the breakdown of the episodes, which alternately focus on one part of the investigation and one part of the answers. Ultimately, The Residence is an organized mess: within a plot that loves digressions, the bar is firmly held to go in only one direction at a time. We can start slaloming, we feel that the series never takes its eyes off the finish line.
At (too) close to the finish line?
Any football player will tell you, it's difficult to maintain a sustained pace for 90 minutes. So imagine 440 minutes. The concept of The Residence, while not revolutionary, has a lot of charm. But the series makes the mistake of choosing the format of 8 episodes of approximately 55 minutes. A length that ends up being detrimental to it quite quickly, because once the attraction of the novelty has worn off, we feel the wear and tear starting to show with sequences that end up repeating themselves, simply by changing a few characters, and a delirium that goes a bit in circles. Halfway through the season, The Residence is seriously starting to slip. Its freneticism would be more suited to a sitcom format, with a maximum limit of 40 minutes depending on the episode. The funniest jokes...
A length that penalizes its heroine since Aduba is invested in her role, the little material dressing the detective Cordelia Cupp quickly makes her boring. Her passion for ornithology creates a welcome contrast, certainly, but almost all the depth of the character rests on this character trait and at the twentieth sequence on birds, we breathe hard. 157 suspects are not too many to occupy the enormous vacant space.
Especially since the gallery of secondary roles is delightful with quite a few familiar faces like Randall Park (WandaVision), Susan Kelechi Watson (This is Us), Mary Wiseman (Star Trek: Discovery) and Julian McMahon (Nip/Tuck), even if the latter is more transparent. Obviously, Giancarlo Esposito (Breaking Bad, Captain America: Brave New World) is also in the game, but the guy – whom we love – is so everywhere that we feel like we see him every time we start a new program. So, his presence in The Residence may be a product of our imagination, we don't know anymore.
The Residence is one of those series with a pleasant concept whose first episodes we greedily savor, but which has had too much confidence in this same concept to see the flaws over time. This clumsiness is all the more damaging because it would have just been necessary to be a little less greedy to correct the majority of these flaws. What could have ended up as a huge favorite will remain a good viewing recommendation for those who want their whodunit fun and light. And sometimes, that's all you ask for.
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