One imagines the talented ensemble from the Netflix historical comedy series “The Decameron” had a great time filming this piece, as what with playing characters who are ambitious and duplicitous and ribald and conniving, having the opportunity to play scenes involving bouncy comical sex or loud and ridiculous monologues or getting all muddy and bloody or stabbing or being stabbed — all that crazy, stage-y, lustful, violent, madcap, over-the-top stuff that makes acting so much fun in the first place.
Alas, that sense of exhilarating madness only sporadically shines through in the work itself. “The Decameron” positions itself as a dark and bloody version of “Bridgerton,” but it suffers from an excess of thoroughly petty and narcissistic and in some cases thinly drawn characters who wear out their welcome long before the conclusion of the eight-episode run. Terrible people can make for great entertainment, but terrible people who strike the same notes over and over can make for something of a tedious slog.
“The Decameron” is very loosely based on Giovanni Baccaccio’s 14th century short story collection of the same name, but the elevator pitch for the series is “Love Island” meets the Black Death. As the bubonic plague engulfs Florence in 1348 (cue the first of many, many opportunities for the gifted makeup artists to create nauseatingly realistic pustules), 10 lucky individuals are invited to ride out the deadly storm in the safety and comfort of an expansive villa outside the city.
In “Upstairs, Downstairs” and “Downton Abbey” fashion, the characters are equally divided into two groups: the Nobles and the Servants. Let’s meet the Nobles!
Zosia Mamet (“Girls”) is Pampinea the Blushing Bride, who at 28 is considered old and no longer desirable, but has a considerable dowry and arrives at the villa to wed the lord of the manor, who as it turns out has gone missing.Douggie McMeekin is Tindaro, the Sickly Noble, a wealthy and deeply insecure misogynist hypochondriac who looks like a vacant-eyed ancestor of Will Ferrell.
Panfilo and Neifile (Karan Gill and Lou Gala) are The Happy Couple. Panfilo is a social climber from Florence, while Neifile is God-fearing but is having great difficulty controlling her raging libido.Jessica Plummer is Filomena the Noblewoman, a spoiled and scatter-brained brat.
And now…the Servants!
Tanya Reynolds is Licisca, who has worked for Filomena and her family her entire life and is filled with resentment while harboring ambitions of her own. She’s kind of the heroine of the story but also awful in her own way.Tony Hale (“Veep”) is Sirisco, the Kindly Steward, who runs the villa. Sort of. He’s not particularly skilled at the job.Saoirse Monica-Jackson is Misia, the Faithful Servant to Pampinea, who is deeply loyal to the bullying Pampinea for reasons we cannot fathom.
Leiza Farzard is Stratilia, the Overworked Cook, who is smart and savvy and resents the Nobles.Amar Chdha-Patel is Dioneo, The Handsome Doctor, who oozes sexuality and uses his allure to manipulate others.
Much gamesmanship is in the offing, as the Nobles maneuver to keep their lofty standing, while the Servants engage in much subterfuge of their own. Nobody is to be trusted in the “Big Brother” house, I mean, the great villa! (The costumes and the production design are spectacularly good. Location filming included a beautiful locale north of Rome, while the set for the villa was constructed in Studio 5 at Cinecittà Studios in Rome — the very soundstage where “Ben Hur,” “Cleopatra” and “La Dolce Vita” were shot.)
With the obligatory use of anachronistic needle drops such as “Blue Monday” by New Order and “Uncontrollable Urge” by Devo and “Caribbean Blue” by Enya on the soundtrack to close out various episodes, “The Decameron” has clear parallels to the COVID outbreak, with some characters buying into ridiculous origin theories for the Black Death and invoking such useless preventative measures as sticking flower petals in their nostrils to block the toxic air. (We’re also reminded of how some members of the privileged class, ensconced in their mansions, would share tone-deaf observations and complaints about life during the pandemic.) The villa is a busy place, with bandits and beggars and heretics (oh my!) making guest appearances to disrupt the proceedings, which are already in a state of chaos, as secrets are revealed, revenge is exacted, alliances are formed and betrayed, and trysts are trysted.
Still, for all the (relatively timid) sexual hijinks and all the grossout bouts of illness and all the violence and death, “The Decameron” never seems particularly edgy or outrageous. It doesn’t help that a number of the actors keep going bigger and bigger with their performances, even as they’re playing the smallest and most petty people imaginable. There were at least of couple of instances when I found myself rooting for the Black Death.