The Four Seasons is one of those shows you notice in the ‘Top TV Programmes on Netflix’ section, see it’s some kind of glossy romantic comedy starring American actors you’ve vaguely heard of, and skip past quickly in search of something with zombies or subtitles. This would be a mistake though because, at least if you are of a certain age, you’re really going to enjoy it.
I think the litmus test is whether you’re old enough to remember the 1981 Alan Alda film on which it is based, which I do, just about, vaguely. It’s that kind of movie where a bunch of old friends who have been holidaying together regularly since university – does anyone actually do this? – are discombobulated by and rebond over a traumatic event.
In this case, it’s that one of them, Nick (played in the Netflix remake by Steve Carell), has decided to abandon his wife Anne (Kerri Kenney-Silver) for a much younger woman, Ginny (Erika Henningsen). It opens, in Spring naturally, in hedge funder Nick’s idyllic lakeside retreat in upstate New York, where – excruciatingly – the blissfully oblivious Anne has decided to surprise her husband and guests with an impromptu ceremony where they will reaffirm their marriage vows.
By Summer, Nick has his new squeeze in tow. Being idealistic and in her early thirties, Ginny has decided that the perfect destination is an eco-lodge in Puerto Rico where you sleep in basic domes, there are no fresh towels and you get eaten by mosquitoes. Everyone else has to pretend, for Nick’s sake, that this is acceptable – while sneaking off for recuperatory stints at the five-star resort next door.
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