The Decameron

Though The Decameron is consistently unpredictable and full of dramatic twists, the story never feels manufactured or manipulative. It’s also surprisingly human, allowing even the most odious characters to grow and the most upstanding ones to degrade.

The strength of every one of these performances drives home how long it’s been since a series delivered a really stellar comedy ensemble. Not just a solid show, but a group effort marked by a shared and truly strange comedic sensibility. (Like “Clue”!)

There's so much to like in this series, from its lush design to its offbeat, go-for-broke comedy. But its best merit may be its characters, who (for better or worse) feel like people you'd know.

While it may be too theatrical for some tastes, The Decameron gets wittier and darker as it goes along, with death (corpses in carts, suppurating neck boils) never far away.

“The Decameron” is under no illusions about the terrors of death or the frailties and vanities of humanity, but it counterweights that with spirited comedy. As a 14th-century physician might say, its humors are well in balance.

One great thrill of Jordan’s lively, earthy, and hilarious Decameron is watching the spoiled discover that, for the filthy horde circling their oasis, they are the spoils.

The themes it traffics in — social hierarchy, status anxiety, lust — are evergreen enough to stand on their own. The group assembled at the villa may face external threats from roving bandits, but their escalating hysteria means the seeds of their downfall are sown from within.

Thanks to writer Kathleen Jordan and a talented cast, it’s a hoot. Think of it as The White Lotus meets the Black Death, with really silly medieval headwear instead of luxury swimwear.

The Decameron is spinning a tale that is many centuries removed from the present, but this seemingly raunchy house party comedy has so much more beneath the surface, as raucous, wine-drenched celebration gives way to very real struggle, heartbreak, and, ultimately, something resembling triumph.

In total, The Decameron feels stretched beyond its ability to sustain any momentum, with early events surrounded with too much padding and later events appearing like sudden escalations that needed more time to build. The pieces are all there, in other words, but they don’t always fit together as well as they should. All of this still makes The Decameron one of the more interesting new Netflix series of the last year.

It’s simply My Lady Jane + Love Island + White Lotus. And since it’s so busy trying to accomplish all three of those oeuvres at once—while also attempting to establish a cohesive pandemic narrative—it falls just a little shy of a success in any one category. It’s fun to glut yourself on, but it’s more an indulgence than a satisfying meal, and by the time you reach the end, it’s hard not to wish you (like the characters) had indulged a little less.