The Residence review: Delicious White House dramedy from masterful Bridgerton creator

Television: Don’t expect authenticity from Shonda Rhimes, just eminently snackable entertainment

Edwina Findley as Sheila Cannon and Uzo Aduba as Cordelia Cupp in The Residence. Photograph: Jessica Brooks/Netflix
Edwina Findley as Sheila Cannon and Uzo Aduba as Cordelia Cupp in The Residence. Photograph: Jessica Brooks/Netflix

Some might say the White House as it stands is a dark comedy – if not a full-blown clown party – but that hasn’t stopped Bridgerton creator Shonda Rhimes from giving the most famous address in the United States a chuckle-heavy makeover with her cosy crime farce, The Residence (Netflix, from Thursday). Returning to the present day after the success of her Regency romp, Rhimes’s new dramedy is essentially 2019 comedy thriller Knives Out crossed with All The President’s Men – a freewheeling whodunit with trace elements of conspiracy thriller.

One thing the series – adapted from Kate Andersen Brower’s non-fiction bestseller, The Residence: Inside the Private world of the White House – isn’t is a specific commentary on the current occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Conor McGregor’s bestie is not mentioned in an opening episode seemingly set shortly after the departure from the Oval Office of an ogre-like commander-in-chief (there are references to the new president desperately trying to mend bridges with Australia).

But the political intrigue is ultimately background detail. The sensibility is instead hugely indebted to Knives Out – to the point where Daniel Craig’s parody detective Benoit Blanc receives a hat-tip. One alliterative hero replaces another as Benoit Blanc is one-upped by Uzo Aduba’s Cordelia Cupp. She’s a quirky consulting detective (aren’t they always?) summoned to investigate the apparent suicide of the chief usher of the White House – portrayed by Giancarlo Esposito, who, by executive order, is required to feature in 50 per cent of all American filmed entertainment released since 2020.

The president’s staffers are eager for an open and shut case. For her part, the usher’s second in command (Susan Kelechi Watson) has her reasons for wanting to see the back of her boss – such as coveting his job. Benoit – sorry Cupp – smells a rat, however. If this was suicide, where is the knife used to slit the dead man’s wrists?

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As a deep dive into Washington politics, The Residence brings the same authenticity as Bridgerton did to early 19th-century British history – ie none at all. It is a three-card trick of fast edits and stunt cameos – including former US senator Al Franken as a member of Congress, and Kylie Minogue, as herself, singing at a White House function.

Australian viewers will be left sputtering over the caricaturing of their fictional prime minister as a sweary bit of rough. Heaven knows to what depths Rhimes would have stooped had she decided to include an Irish visitor to the White House.

The secret to a Rhimes drama is its immense snackability. It is hard to think of a single reason for watching The Residence – aside from Aduba’s skilfully shameless riff on Craig’s Benoit Blanc. But it’s all so moreish. Television’s pre-eminent conjuror of junkie entertainment has done it again.