The Residence Is A Smart, Entertaining Murder Mystery

Executive producer Shonda Rhimes takes viewers back to the White House in Netflix’s newest satirical whodunnit, The Residence, which was created by Paul William Davies. The delightfully quirky and entertaining eight-episode miniseries begins, of course, after a body is discovered. 

However, unlike recent franchises such as Knives Out and The White Lotus, the crime does not take place in a private mansion or at an exclusive vacation resort. The murder is committed at the White House during a disastrous state dinner with Australia. 

Also complicating the plot is that the story is told through flashbacks. The time jumps from the present congressional committee that has been assembled to unpack the events of that fateful October evening because, as the committee says,“there’s been a lot of misinformation and speculation and confusion about these events” and the investigation.

“Wow, it’s a lot of dudes,” world-class detective Cordelia Cupp (Uzo Aduba) declares as she walks past the gaggle of powerful men debating what to do after the body is discovered and enters the third-floor game room.

The president’s friend and adviser Harry Hollinger (Ken Marino), the head of the FBI, the head of the National Park Police and an agent from the secret service all trail her. They watch as Cupp crouches down next to the pool table. She examines the prone body of deceased head usher, A.B. Wynter (Giancarlo Esposito), and immediately sees everything wrong with the scene.  

To the men, Wynter’s death conveniently appears to be a suicide; the president’s administration doesn’t need another scandal, there’s a handwritten note in his pocket and his wrists are cut. But the crime scene has a few puzzling inconsistencies that don’t add up. Most noticeably, Cupp points out the absence of a knife. (How did Wynter kill himself?)

Despite the protests of the politically motivated and mostly hostile men, Cupp determines that Wynter was probably killed. And, because she is a consulting detective for Larry Dokes (Isiah Whitlock Jr.) — who is the chief of police for the Washington, D.C., Metropolitan Police Department that has jurisdiction in the case — she can search for the truth even if the men around her don’t like it.  

What follows is her investigation of the 157 people in the White House at the time — guests at the state dinner and the staff — that spans all 132 rooms of the iconic house. The result is a satirical whodunnit that has universal appeal. For this reason, it could definitely be classified as “Dad TV” depending on how you define the genre because Cupp’s competency as a detective and outsized expertise steals the show.

Even though Apple TV’s crime comedy The Afterparty is about Danner (Tiffany Haddish), a Black female detective who can put together pieces others don’t see, Aduba’s role as Cupp still feels fresh and like a much-needed update to the murder-mystery genre. 

This is partially because Aduba’s performance as the birdwatching and clue-hunting detective is so strong. Once again, Rhimes has successfully diversified a genre with a strong, smart, highly watchable lead who is fully developed (just wait for the episode with the socks) and whose success you can’t help but root for even if there wasn’t a murder to solve. 

Also, like most good detective stories, Cupp does not work alone. In this case, she is assigned a reluctant sidekick, special agent Edwin Park (Randall Park) from the FBI. 

“You’re the guy they put on the case to make sure I don’t put my nose in things that might be uncomfortable for everyone, and you’re the guy who tries to undermine me when I tell them the truth,” Cupp tells Park at the beginning of the investigation. While she’s not wrong, the comedic dynamic between the clever Cupp and the doubtful Park perfectly balances the story.   

The show also has a phenomenal supporting cast. From the former assistant usher Jasmine Haney (Susan Kelechi Watson) to staff members like butler Sheila Cannon (Edwina Findley) and social secretary Lilly Schumacher (Molly Griggs), the characters are pitch-perfect, adding both humour and intrigue to every scene. 

One of the reasons this large cast works so well is that the cinematography turns the White House into a giant Cluedo-esque board game. The walls and ceilings of the iconic rooms that most people have seen portrayed on TV many times are consistently removed to make the building appear like a three-dimensional floor plan (think the bird’s-eye view you get when you unfold a Cluedo board). 

From the different floors to the state dining room to the blue room to the green room to the China room, the show is visually interesting as it contextualises the locations you’ve seen before and adds spaces, like the pastry kitchen, upper basement and stairwells that you’ve probably never imagined.

As the characters move through these historic spaces to do their jobs, a larger story unfolds, and you can begin to guess it was (blank) with the (weapon) in the (location). Your guess is sure to change multiple times as the Cupp’s investigation progresses, and that’s part of what makes the show so fun to watch. 

The Residence also uses the fact that it’s a murder mystery show to repeatedly pay homage to the genre, which adds a clever layer of meaning and intentionality to the writing. Each episode is an allusion to an iconic literary movie murder. For example, the very on-the-nose premiere, The Fall Of The House Of Usher, alludes to the macabre Edgar Allen Poe story about the crumbling Usher family and its mansion. Each subsequent episode is a spoof of a different familiar story and its tropes. This includes Hitchcock films like Dial M For Murder, the noir classic The Third Man and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes’ story The Adventure Of The Engineer’s Thumb.

Overall, The Residence is a smart, entertaining addition to this genre, and, while the show is being presented as a miniseries, I hope it is anthologised because I definitely want to watch Detective Cordelia Cupp solve another case.