Ronny Sianturi
Peacock’s latest limited series, The Five-Star Weekend, arrives with the polished sheen and appealing aroma of a meticulously crafted dessert. Based on Elin Hilderbrand’s bestselling novel and developed by Bekah Brunstetter, the show boasts a constellation of respected actresses and a premise designed to evoke a spectrum of emotions – from heartfelt tears to wistful sighs and perhaps a touch of aspirational envy. Yet, much like a confection that looks spectacular but lacks a truly complex flavor profile, The Five-Star Weekend ultimately offers a viewing experience that is pleasant and perfectly palatable, but falls short of being truly memorable or special, despite its considerable assets.
The series centers on Hollis Shaw, a successful food influencer portrayed by Jennifer Garner. Six months after the sudden and tragic death of her husband, Matthew (seen in poignant flashbacks played by Josh Hamilton), Hollis finds herself adrift in a sea of profound grief. Her professional life, once a source of immense pride and public engagement, now feels hollow, with even routine on-air appearances for programs like the Today show dissolving into uncontrollable sobs. In a bid to reclaim some semblance of normalcy and confront her sorrow, Hollis extends an invitation to four of her closest female friends, each representing a distinct phase of her life, for an extended weekend retreat at her elegantly appointed Nantucket home. The intention is clear: a curated experience of shared wine, gourmet fare, and synchronized style, designed to foster healing and connection.
However, the narrative’s initial setup introduces a significant, albeit strategic, complication: these four women, while all individually connected to Hollis, are strangers to one another. This dynamic injects an immediate, palpable tension into the idyllic setting. The ensemble cast assembled to embody these complex characters is, without question, a major draw. Chloë Sevigny steps into the role of Tatum, the childhood friend whose life has taken a less glamorous, more grounded trajectory, serving as a quiet foil to Hollis’s elevated status. Regina Hall embodies Dru-Ann, the ambitious college confidante whose success and sophisticated tastes represent a path Hollis has actively pursued. D’Arcy Carden portrays Brooke, the endearingly awkward mother figure, seemingly surprised by her inclusion in such a select gathering. Completing the quartet is Gemma Chan as Gigi, an alluringly enigmatic online acquaintance whom Hollis has never met in person, adding a layer of mystery to the already potent mix.
Each actress delivers a performance that aligns perfectly with her established on-screen persona. Jennifer Garner is ideally cast as Hollis, projecting an image of effortless composure that masks her deep-seated pain, a woman capable of maintaining immaculate mascara even through bouts of intense weeping. Among the supporting cast, Chloë Sevigny’s portrayal of Tatum stands out. Her character’s blunt honesty and earthy pragmatism provide a welcome counterpoint to the more polished personas, offering moments of sharp wit and genuine emotional resonance. The interplay between these talented actresses is a significant strength. While the initial awkwardness and barely concealed friction among the women lend the early episodes a slightly discordant note, this tension ultimately makes their eventual bonding and the formation of genuine connections – extending beyond their shared concern for Hollis – all the more rewarding.
The series, spanning eight episodes, aims to maintain a brisk pace, mirroring the itinerary-driven nature of its protagonist. Hollis, despite her protestations of being "fine," is clearly grappling with the profound absence of her husband. Her grief is the central thread, but the narrative wisely avoids making it the sole focus. Each of the invited friends arrives with her own set of personal challenges and unspoken anxieties, revealed gradually throughout the weekend. Tatum is facing a health scare, Brooke is preparing for a potentially career-altering deposition, and Dru-Ann is navigating a professional crisis that threatens to derail her career.
Adding further layers to the weekend’s unfolding drama is Hollis’s college-aged daughter, Caroline (Harlow Jane), who arrives unexpectedly to surprise her mother. The presence of Jack (Timothy Olyphant), Hollis’s high school ex-boyfriend, introduces a potential romantic entanglement, though his motivations for attending remain somewhat nebulous. Further complicating matters is Electra (Judy Greer), an acquaintance with seemingly unclear intentions to disrupt the weekend. The presence of a gaggle of devoted fans, dubbed "Hollibabes," who periodically interrupt proceedings to express their admiration for Hollis, adds a touch of comedic absurdity.
This abundance of storylines is both a boon and a minor detriment to the series. The Five-Star Weekend rarely suffers from a lack of narrative momentum; there is always an unfolding event or a developing subplot to capture the viewer’s attention. If one storyline fails to resonate – for instance, Dru-Ann’s arc, which some critics might perceive as a somewhat dated portrayal of younger generations’ online discourse – another, such as the passive-aggressive rivalry between Dru-Ann and Tatum, or the burgeoning friendship between Caroline and Tatum’s daughter, Audrey, is likely to emerge. This constant influx of new elements ensures that the viewer’s engagement remains consistent, preventing any single narrative thread from becoming monotonous.
However, this very busyness also prevents the series from delving deeply into any single character’s journey. While each woman is revealed to possess more complexity than initially apparent, they often feel like characters whose existences are confined to the narrative’s immediate scope, rather than individuals with lives that continue beyond the viewer’s perception. Tatum, perhaps due to her established local ties and supporting cast, including her husband played by David Denman, offers a slight exception to this observation.
Consequently, the emotional impact of the series is somewhat muted. The romantic tension between Jack and Hollis, while featuring Timothy Olyphant in a charming, rom-com-esque performance, is somewhat diminished by Jack’s characterization as more of an idealized projection of Hollis’s past and future desires than a fully realized individual. Similarly, Brooke’s journey of self-discovery and burgeoning confidence is tinged with the implied grim reality of her unhappy home life with her husband, Charlie (Rob Huebel), a reality that casts a shadow over her newfound empowerment.
Even Hollis’s experience of grief, the central emotional pillar of the series, feels more like a carefully constructed performance than a raw, unfiltered outpouring. We learn that in her darkest moments, Hollis sought solace in online comments while actively avoiding calls from loved ones, her journey one of learning to confront her pain rather than mask it with superficial pleasantries. Yet, The Five-Star Weekend appears content to skim the surface of her emotional landscape, offering a picturesque portrayal of healing rather than a profound exploration of its complexities. The series ultimately opts for a more aesthetically pleasing narrative, one that assures the viewer that all will be resolved in time for a final, heartwarming embrace against a backdrop of azure waters, but at the cost of a more compelling and deeply resonant storytelling experience. The production, with its stunning Nantucket vistas and meticulously curated aesthetics, serves as a testament to the allure of aspirational escapism, offering a visually pleasing, if emotionally restrained, escape.
