In “The Hunting Wives”, a mystery of murder intensively Cum Cartoon Sex Opera that will be released on Monday in Netflix, Brittany Snow plays Sophie O'Neil, recently arrived from Boston with her husband Graham (Evan Jonigkeit) and the little son of Fictiony Mapit Brook, Texas, a city of the rich in somewhere Dallas. Graham is an architect, apparently, at one time he will say: “Soph, you have to see this carpentry”, which, in the three review episodes, is as specific as that will be, who has come to work for the rich banks Jed Banks (Dermot Mulroney) to build “the new HQ Banks”. What will happen there is not said.
The O'Neils enter this world through a collection of funds in which Banks, who wants to be governor, is pronouncing a speech in support of the National Rifles Association, highlighting the need for weapons so that the “good people” defend “all kinds of evil Sumbitches” and the “bad people continue to be poured every day” through the border. This is a platform as big as you will bother to have; Plotwise, the point is to run for a position can expose your private life to public scrutiny.
In the course of the party, we know the main players: Jill (Katie Lowes) is married to the Reverend Clint (Jason Davis), who directs the local megaigalla; His son Brad (George Ferrier), who would be called Brad, is an unpleasant slab of basketball that he is seeing, that is, trying to sleep with Abby (Madison Wolfe), a good girl on the wrong side of the tracks. (Jill is against the relationship; Abby's mother, Starr, played by Chrissy Metz, has her own reservations). Callie (Jaime Ray Newman), second among homonymous wives, is married to Sheriff Jonny (Branton Box); I am not sure if Jonny is his first or last name, but this looks like the type of place where the sheriff would be known for his first. The supplementary wives Monae (Joyce Glenn) and Taylor (Alexandria Debry) are there to invent the numbers.
The most important thing is Margo Banks (Malin Akerman), with whom Sophie finds in a bathroom where she has gone to take an Xanax for her social anxiety, and that, in a matter of seconds and not for the last time, is coincidentally in topless. Margo has no social anxiety.
She nicknames Sophie as fresh blood, or from some genuine connection, or because she recognizes in the newcomer the type of person who needs a person like her, someone who Margo can productively dominate her mutual advantage. Margo immediately declares that they will be the best friends: to create a crack with Callie, the current occupant of that role, who, radiating jealousy in each pore, is determined to interpose between them.
Sophie, Graham seems proud to announce, she was once “a little wild boy … A girl in the party” who became a career woman, a political relations operation, and, during the last seven years, a full -time mother. He has a slightly controlling way, “for her own good”, preventing him from drinking or driving, there will be a reason for that, you will have guessed, but in a short time, she will drink, and she will lead. “Two rules,” says Margo, putting it behind the steering wheel. “Trust me and do everything I say.”
Written in the world of Margo, Sophie is soon shooting Skeet, and then, after buying her own weapons, wild boar. I quote Chekhov's opinion again in the sense that a weapon in the first act should explode in the second, but there are so many here, and our attention so significantly attracted to them, it would be a shock if some did not shoot, the only questions are whose and when and when and who and who points to whom or who.
Developed by Rebecca Perry Cutter (“Hightown”) from the 2021 May Cobb novel of the same name, the series offers a slight dust of political references: “deplorable”, Marjorie Taylor Greene, no abortion clinic “allowed to bombard”, negative mentions of feminism and liberal “The hunter tracks”. (Jr Ewing once expressed a political opinion?) Given the context, the liberal northern camping among the conservative southerners, one could have waited for a scenario of “Stepford wives”, but this is something different. Inside, or exploiting, its sociocultural limits (“We do not work, wife,” says Monae with pride), women have fun from all my heart while men, even when nominally powerful, are relatively soft, uninteresting and distracted. Graham, which is very pleasant, may seem positively dim; “He takes my wife, please,” he will happily joke when Margo gets on a water motorcycle to Spirit Sophie away from a family day in the lake.
The characters are guys, but the actors fill them well, and the dynamics between Margo and Sophie really is … dynamic. Margo is intriguing because it is difficult to imagine. Like Sophie, she has a hidden past: when a mysterious figure on the local road (Julian Dulce Vida) calls her mandy, puts her atypically nervous because, obviously, she was called Mandy. She lies to her husband; She is having sex with Brad, which seems bad taste. But there is something authentic and genuine in what Margo increases by Akerman's fascinating performance. Margo is a tempting, the devil on Sophie's shoulder, but maybe the angel too.
So that we do not forget, there is a murder, that opens the show in a flash forward; The series is updated at the end of episode 3 (it brings Karen Rodríguez as Det. Salazar, who promises good things). There is also a briefly mentioned missing girl, which will undoubtedly be linked in some way. But with only three episodes of eight views, it is impossible to say where everything is going, unless you have read the book, I suppose, but even then, you never know. What is clear is that there will be more secrets to reveal, with skeletons that leave each closet. And these are large houses, with a lot of storage.
