The review was prepared by Gazeta.pl journalist Justyna Bryczkowska.
Neither "The Decameron" nor "A Good Girl's Guide to Murder" received much promotion. Netflix somewhat mysteriously showcased the trailer for the former in the upcoming releases section, while A Good Girl's Guide was simply suggested to me by the algorithm on the main panel shortly after its premiere on August 1st. The Decameron intrigued me, if only because I was curious to see how such a specific and rich piece of literature would be adapted for the screen. The second series, I turned on somewhat reluctantly because the title was odd. And that was the perfect choice, as not only did I get hooked, but so did two other people in my household, who have completely different film preferences. I should add that none of us are teenagers, yet this crime drama, categorized as a "Young Adult adaptation," effectively reaches an audience beyond its target demographic.
The good girl takes action
"A Good Girl's Guide to Murder" is a seemingly simple story about a teenage girl named Pip, a model student from a small British town, who starts investigating a five-year-old case as part of a school project. Seventeen-year-old Andie disappeared under mysterious circumstances, and shortly afterward, her boyfriend Sal committed suicide. Everyone in the town, including the police, believes that he killed her and then took his own life out of guilt.
However, Pip is not convinced and begins to dig into the case. She starts asking the right people the right questions and gradually uncovers inconvenient facts. She delves deeper into the secrets of the past, which requires her to step far out of her comfort zone and do things that well-behaved students typically avoid. She does this with full determination and commitment, though it's a miracle that she doesn't get seriously hurt along the way—because more than once, she puts herself in extremely dangerous situations.
Meanwhile, we get glimpses of the "secret life of wildly partying teenagers" right under the noses of completely oblivious adults, with massive raves happening in the local woods. But of course, the point isn't to rediscover America and shock with youthful hedonism, but to provide the appropriate context for the crime Pip is investigating and to sketch out the characteristics of the people involved. It's simple, but it works effectively.
The plot may not be particularly groundbreaking, but it's executed well and so well-acted that it's hard to tear yourself away from it. The show benefits from beautiful cinematography and shots of a charming small town, whose residents naturally have dark secrets.
The series is an adaptation of Holly Jackson's bestselling book of the same name and was produced in collaboration with the BBC and Netflix. The lead role is played by Emma Myers, whom viewers might remember from the hit series Wednesday—she portrayed the protagonist's roommate. Here, she proves she can handle a lead role exceptionally well. Another point is that the cast consists of exceptionally attractive people, which only enhances the aspect of social bonds and gives it a vibe similar to Sex Education—we have an interesting array of human types that come together to form a cohesive picture.
One downside might be that the season only has six episodes, which makes the ending feel a bit rushed. On the other hand, I didn't have time to get bored, and I was left with a pleasant sense of wanting more, eagerly anticipating another season.
"The Decameron" had a lot of potential
It's a shame the same can't be said for "The Decameron". I started the series with faith and hope that the rich source material would serve to create a successful and subversive dark comedy. At first, everything seemed to be on the right track: the cast was excellent and full of character, the costumes were inventive, the cinematography was beautiful, and the contemporary music and fun atmosphere were reminiscent of Monty Python films or the cult classic Blackadder with Rowan Atkinson and Hugh Laurie in the lead roles.
I can wholeheartedly praise the performances of Tanya Reynolds (playing the servant Licisca, whom you might recognize from her memorable role as the pastor's wife in the latest adaptation of Emma with Anya Taylor-Joy in the lead), Saoirse-Monica Jackson from the very successful comedy series "Derry Girls" (as the servant Misia, she wonderfully utilized her acting talents), and the familiar-sounding Zosia Mamet, who brilliantly portrays the pretentious and unbearable Pampinea. Tony Hale, as the estate manager Sirisco, also did a great job of balancing elements of satire with a faithful depiction of clinical obsession. They all created the most interesting and memorable characters, shining in every scene they were in. It was a pleasure to watch them, even when their characters were doing something awful.
Unfortunately, the series' script didn't allow them to fully realize their potential. You would think that adapting The Decameron would lend itself to a lively narrative for something like a serialized anthology, where each episode is dedicated to a different novella—there are 100 to choose from, after all. Let's not forget that "The Decameron" was once listed in the Index of Forbidden Books and offers a truly rich selection of surprising tales about various human vices and behaviors, including erotic escapades. However, the creators chose to ignore almost the entire plot of the classic work, essentially borrowing only the title and the motif of wealthy individuals fleeing to a suburban villa during a plague outbreak in Florence.
The writers decided that instead of jumping between the different stories exchanged by the characters in "The Decameron", it would be better to focus on the relationships between the people confined to a single house and their motivations. On paper, this sounds reasonable, but in practice, it falls flat. The official description states that this series is "a poignant dark comedy addressing the very current theme of class conflicts during a plague." Well, it’s poignant in the sense that all the main characters are heavily focused on love and its physical aspects, but everything in this regard goes awry. There's certainly no shortage of dark humor, but about halfway through the season, the atmosphere shifts from dark satire to perpetual paranoia, which becomes exhausting.
Class conflicts are summed up here as follows: the nobles are vain, selfish, and often downright foolish, while their long-suffering servants are intelligent, kind, and wronged by the lack of basic respect. Everyone is almost always angry or dissatisfied with something. This rather cliché approach to the main conflict wouldn't be a problem if it were counterbalanced by, for example, snappy dialogue or well-developed subplots. But instead, there's too much going on all at once.
In "The Decameron", we have an average of three or four plot twists per episode and, it seems, at least ten deaths per hour. New characters keep appearing, making it painfully obvious that the script didn't focus on properly outlining the main intrigue or building a solid web of connections between the characters. Not to mention that the erotic scenes included in the plot, in every predictable gender combination (yes, there's even a bit with a sadomasochistic motif), mostly feel shoehorned in, as if ticking off boxes on a checklist. All this leads to a strained climax, after which we reach a point where the remaining characters finally do what they were supposed to do in Boccaccio's original.
It's a shame, because with such a cast, they could have created something that genuinely makes you like the characters and root for them, rather than just waiting to see what strange thing will happen next. "The Decameron" isn't a terrible series, but it's not one I'll eagerly rewatch. I’ll add that the series received 66% positive reviews from critics on Rotten Tomatoes, but only 56% from viewers. Clearly, the best way to avoid disappointment is to have no expectations at all.
