By Kuo Yi Xian
DTF St. Louis hails from the mind of writer, director and creator Steven Conrad, who is perhaps best known as the creator of the Prime Video black-comedy-spy-thriller Patriot. Like his previous offering, DTF St. Louis possesses Conrad’s unique brand of humor, weirdness and fascination with the intricacies of people and their relationships, but his voice only really starts coming through as the miniseries progresses.
The miniseries centers on the love triangle that emerges between weatherman Clark (Jason Bateman), sign language interpreter Floyd (David Harbour) and his wife Carol (Linda Cardellini). A crime is revealed to have been committed as a result of this situation, and part of the series follows the investigative efforts by detectives Homer (Richard Jenkins) and Plumb (Joy Sunday) into said crime. The non-linear narrative of the show switches between the investigation in the present day and the evolution of the relationships between the three middle-aged adults in the past.
The strongest and richest part of the show is undoubtedly the love triangle storyline, which is delightfully weird, tragic and ultimately moving. This is helped in no small part by strong performances from the three leads. David Harbour’s performance as Floyd is undoubtedly the heart of this narrative, with the actor making the character sweet, earnest and hugely sympathetic, while also really conveying the underlying sadness and loneliness that he has as the show progresses. Through Floyd’s interactions and conversations with Clark, Carol, and his son Richard, Harbour manages to impressively embody the deep love that his character has for the people in his life, giving him a sincerity key to making the show work. Floyd’s job as a sign language interpreter also really allows Harbour to convey so much of the character through his physicality, whether it’s his passion for his job in a standout sequence in Episode 2 or his quiet emotionality in key moments when he converses using sign language.
The relationship between Floyd and Clark is certainly the show’s key focus, especially in its closing episodes, managing to shine thanks to the great chemistry between Harbour and Bateman. They beautifully play out its various notes, from growing friendship and platonic love to homoeroticism. Bateman also offers up a good turn as Clark, nailing the character’s awkward projection of suaveness and confidence in the early episodes before the show offers him the chances to peel back the layers and expose the raw loneliness beneath the surface.
As for the third point on this triangle, Cardellini also delivers fine work as Carol, though unlike her male counterparts, she is underserved by the show’s writing. This makes it so that that by the end of the show, her part feels way more of a storytelling device with some complexity rather than the fully fleshed-out characters with genuine interiority that Harbour and Bateman get to play. Despite all of this, she still proves to be a riveting screen presence by nailing her character’s seductive femme fatale energy. In the moments where the writing allows her to, she also expertly conveys Carol’s vulnerability and frustration underneath her sarcastic and dry exterior.
The show is at its best from episodes 2 to 5—when Carol is a relatively equal player in terms of the focus placed on her as a character within the love triangle. The richness and complexity of the changing relationships between the three characters is a big highlight of the season. In these episodes too, Steven Conrad’s voice and penchant for the weird and heightened really come through, whether it is in the sexual escapades of the love triangle, a completely unexpected sequence involving Floyd accomplishing an impressive physical feat in Episode 3, or a delightful music sequence between Floyd and Clark in Episode 4. These little injections of a heightened reality and weirdness complement the sharp emotional writing and exploration of relationship dynamics, marking the show in these sections as something wholly original and unique.
Conversely, Episode 1 is a rather plodding and dull set-up for the premise of the show, while Episodes 6 and 7 end up sidelining Carol to focus on the relationship between Floyd and Clark instead, which ultimately feels like somewhat of a missed opportunity given how rich the dynamics between the trio were.
In contrast to the strong relationship section, the investigation storyline can’t help but feel somewhat middling in comparison, being mostly procedural and rather functional in nature. The show manages to mine some entertainment and commentary from the typical old/young cop dynamic, but the investigation ultimately always ends up being fundamentally less interesting than the love triangle storyline. Jenkins and Sunday play convincing investigators and prove to be a solid pair, but they are ultimately far less intriguing characters and mostly just react to the information they uncover. While the investigation storyline does ultimately serve its purpose, it does at times feel as though it has been created in order to better package the show as a friendlier watch to audiences. A weekly whodunnit mystery is probably an easier sell than a weird, offbeat relationship study, but it’s not a better show.
Ultimately DTF St. Louis proves to be a slightly mixed bag, blending a rather middling mystery with a far more inspired and engaging relationship study. The weirdness of Steven Conrad’s work may not ultimately be for everyone, but he offers up an entertaining and genuinely moving love triangle as well as a solid examination of male loneliness and friendship. The show provides a sound platform for Bateman and especially Harbour to do some great work, while Cardelinni manages to make a good impression despite more limited material. The show is ultimately held back by a standard procedural storyline, and the sidelining of Cardelinni’s character is slightly disappointing, but it still manages to be a thoughtful and intriguing examination of human relationships.
7/10