Netflix’s The Boroughs: A Star-Studded Series Struggles with a Muddled Plot About Seniors and the Supernatural

(SeaPRwire) –   Given that the typical audience for horror is young and male, the genre’s quintessential hero is often a blood-splattered babysitter, usually in some state of undress. Perhaps the desire for manufactured jump-scares diminishes with age because growing older brings forth so many genuine fears. These include the physical horror of malfunctioning organs and sagging skin; the psychological terror of dementia or, worse, the condescension of those who treat you as senile when you are not; the supernatural dread of carrying the ghosts of everyone you have lost. And, of course, the ever-present specter of death.

These various anxieties surface in The Boroughs, a Netflix sci-fi horror series set within a retirement community in the New Mexico desert. With *Stranger Things* creators the Duffer brothers as executive producers, it offers an empathetic portrayal of aging that captures both the pain of being discarded and the joy of discovering late-in-life purpose and friendship. A cast led by Alfred Molina, Alfre Woodard, Geena Davis, Clarke Peters, and Denis O’Hare embodies a refreshingly contemporary form of senior citizenship; instead of passively watching *Matlock*, these boomers experiment with psychedelics, perform Springsteen karaoke, and practice free love. The challenge arises when creators Jeffrey Addiss and Will Matthews (who previously helmed Netflix’s *Dark Crystal* series) attempt to synthesize all of their compelling characters and ideas into a cohesive overarching statement.

We observe *The Boroughs*, with its retro eateries and golf courses, through the skeptical eyes of Molina’s Sam. The former aeronautical engineer’s crankiness can, in part, be attributed to the devastating loss of his wife, Lilly (Jane Kaczmarek). She was the one who wished to retire to this sprawling development of identical mid-century modern cul-de-sacs. But her death did not void their contract, so Sam’s kind daughter, Claire (Jena Malone), delivers him to his new life in hopes he will adjust. A gregarious neighbor, Bill Pullman’s Jack, introduces him to a surprisingly fascinating crew. Ex-journalist Judy (Woodard) and her hippie husband, Art (Peters), are at a marital impasse. Renee, who used to manage bands, is a character so cool, only Davis could portray her. A doctor struggling to accept his own terminal diagnosis, Wally (O’Hare) vows to fill his remaining days with “cocktails and chaos.”

*The Boroughs* offers an endless supply of both. A many-legged mystery monster is slowly killing residents, and the glamorous couple that owns the complex (Seth Numrich and Alice Kremelberg) seems more concerned with maintaining immaculate appearances than with investigating. Certain that going public with their fears will only get them confined to *The Boroughs’* eerie nursing unit, Sam and his friends are left to defend themselves from whatever is preying on them.

Easily the best of the three Netflix series the Duffers have overseen since *Stranger Things* concluded last year (including the animated spinoff *Stranger Things: Tales From ’85* and the wedding chiller *Something Very Bad Is Going to Happen*), *The Boroughs* shares that franchise’s Spielbergian juxtaposition of horror and heart. The producers have also acknowledged a debt to Ron Howard’s film *Cocoon*, another sci-fi story set in a retirement community. Like that classic, the show excels at humanizing, through sharp performances by an all-star cast, characters Hollywood too often caricatures as cute or crotchety, when it deigns to pay them any attention. Even without monsters to fight, the denizens of *The Boroughs* would be enjoyable company.

I do wish we had the opportunity to get to know them a bit better. Sadly, *The Boroughs* also shares with *Stranger Things* a tendency to stop developing characters and relationships after efficient introductions. (The exception is Wally, a gay man whose memories of the AIDS crisis complicate his every choice.) Instead, both shows keep adding portentous but vague themes until so many ideas have been articulated that only the most anodyne takeaways survive. In this case, the horrors and the pleasures of old age are, finally, reduced to mushy platitudes: “Time is a gift.” “Why does anyone do anything? Love.” One might expect people staring down mortality to have more penetrating insights to share.