Review: Netflix's ‘The Four Seasons' is overprivileged and out of touch

San Francisco Chronicle​

21-05-2025

'The Four Seasons' was a 1981 film about growing old together, not only with one's spouse but also alongside one's dearest friends. Yet, while the new Netflix adaptation brings together a new cast of aging stars, it's not the bodies onscreen that feel dated.
Featuring Gen X-ers Tina Fey, Colman Domingo and East Bay's own Will Forte, plus at least on-the-cusp boomer Steve Carell, the series-long expansion of the movie by the same name — written and directed by its original star Alan Alda of 'M*A*S*H' fame — actually regresses the older narrative.
Updating the story for 2025 requires a heavy lift, and an acclaimed trio of showrunners — Fey, Lang Fisher (' Never Have I Ever,' ' Brooklyn Nine-Nine ') and Tracey Wigfield ('30 Rock,' ' The Mindy Project ') — certainly make an effort. Unfortunately, it turns out that these three very successful TV writers don't exactly live on the cutting edge of storytelling for the streaming era.
The original film's premise is that three middle-class couples of mostly white people navigate love's changing nature through middle age over the course of four seasonal vacations within one year, all to the tune of Vivaldi's famous violin concerto. Here, over the course of eight episodes, we see some beat-for-beat repeats: On the first vacation in spring, everyone jumps impishly from their leisure boat into the water, fully clothed! On a later vacation in summer, one of the wives is replaced awkwardly by a younger blond who sports a fetching white bikini! Yes, there is, once again, so. Much. Vivaldi!
The remake gets a small diversity update by casting one of the couples as San Francisco theater veteran Domingo and Marco Calvani, a pair of gay men — although the former is forced unfairly into a 'two-fer' role as the sole person of color. (In the original, that place went to the great Rita Moreno, the East Bay's beloved EGOT.)
Gone is a critical confrontation when the younger blond would have stood up for herself against the withering disdain of her partner's older friends. Such a scene would have added much-needed dimension to the role of Ginny (Erika Henningsen), but there's not much to her here beyond the pejorative label 'Yoga Barbie' that another character assigns to her.
And rather than keeping the couples middle class, they're rewritten as much wealthier. Carell's Nick is referred to as 'king of the hedge fund,' while Domingo's Danny appears to be a jet-setting interior designer. The other characters are so thinly written in this update, that unlike the original, work rarely enters their banal conversations that drip with privilege and not much else.
Particularly grating is when the two — beautiful — middle-aged actors, Fey and Kerri Kenney ('Reno 911!') crack fatphobic jokes, especially at their own expense. It's not funny, and it's not believable in the least, especially when, in one scene, Kenney is a vision clad in a sleeveless, backless gown.
Love and the dilemmas of aging are both meaty subjects, as audiences have seen recently in far edgier, envelope-pushing narratives like ' Babygirl ' and ' The Substance.' I'm not at their protagonists' age bracket yet, but those stories dared to stir up dreams of what my menopause era could look like, even if they were fantasies that starred impossibly well-toned, rich white women.
Despite all the undeniable talent involved in 'The Four Seasons,' its real failure is one of untapped imagination.