It’s tough to make entertainment out of some subjects. For example, it’s become a famously lazy device for writers to juice up their plots with sexual assaults, pretending like portraying violence against women makes their work edgy, serious, or (worse) tantalizing. When poorly managed, these plot points make light of real crimes while reinforcing the idea that leads to them – namely, that women exist for men to have their way with.
I want to add child abuse to the list of horrible human experiences that filmmakers and show creators should be wary of depicting without nuance or purpose. Today’s exhibit of what can go terribly wrong is Paramount+’s “Little Disasters.”
Based on a book by the same name, the six-part series follows a well-to-do couple in the UK who find themselves at the center of a child services investigation because their ten-month-old daughter has a fractured skull, and mom Jess Carrisford (Diane Kruger) can’t or won’t give a plausible explanation for how her daughter got hurt.
The whole thing is somehow made messier by the fact that Jess’s doctor Liz Burgess (Jo Joyner) is her estranged friend, part of a four-couple group who met a decade ago at a birthing class when all the women were pregnant with their first children.
What follows is a relatively straight mystery show, revolving around who could have hurt Betsy and why. Although the real question may be how anyone could think sussing out who broke an infant’s skull would work for this type of show. It’s not the sort of crime that’s easily glossed over. There’s no way to make it cozy or action-packed. Adding up the clues is not like solving a puzzle.
Because the questions here aren’t the usual who had motive, ability, or an alibi, instead, “Little Disasters” wants us to spend hours wondering if Jess’ post-partum depression is severe enough that she would hurt her child. Or if her husband Ed (JJ Feild), despite his calm demeanor, is really the type of abusive monster who would harm a baby.
It is not fun.
Which would be ok if “Little Disasters” had any insight to add to what child abuse really looks like. It does not.
Yes, it has several compelling early episodes, which, as a mother the same age as these characters, particularly disturbed me. “Little Disasters” does succeed in fostering self-doubt in real parents, nudging me to mull my worst mothering moments, putting them in conversation with the fictional women in front of me.
There is pain, but no payoff. After walking through a horror-house-of-mirrors with domestic violence lurking in every shadow, “Little Disasters” goes full Scooby-Doo with its ending. Yes, it gives a neat conclusion, tidying up not just what happened but who is good and who is bad to a laughable degree. This proves that the whole exercise is not about providing us with understanding but rather trivializing the real trauma of child abuse.
The ending is further marred by a variety of B plots that pale in comparison to shots of a baby strapped to a hospital bed (a favorite motif of this Paramount+ import). Tired of IVF, friend Charlotte (Shelley Conn) is unhappy in her marriage to “good man” Andrew (Patrick Baladi). Yawn. Dr. Liz has an alcohol problem, but thankfully a supportive husband (Robert Gilbert) and group of friends. No big concerns there, etc.
Because most of its characters are particularly well-to-do, “Little Disasters” offers beautiful sets and costumes. The houses are light and airy, and the school has envy-inspiring hedges. The friend group’s vacation rental in Provence is a thing of fantasies. There are also some fantastic outfits, although they tend to be a bit too on-the-nose. Charlotte is in all structured blacks and whites, signaling her cold, working-woman archetype. At the same time, Dr. Liz dresses practically and a little messily to signal her issues, while her fourth friend, Mel (Emily Taaffe), wears fun, bright silhouettes because she is a free spirit. Get it?
Jess, though, is given particular care. Her stay-at-home-mom clothes are all luxurious beiges and Earth-mom neutrals. When out and about, she favors backless, flowing dresses that show how beautiful she is without revealing anything so gaudy as the tops of her breasts or legs. Her hair matches her state of mind – always wavy blond locks, but clumpy and uneven when she’s in trouble, versus bouncing and glamorous when she’s in her element.
At first glance, it may seem like “Little Disasters” is using its characters’ wealth to tell us something about intra-family violence – after all, it can and does happen in all sorts of homes. But while the show sets up this type of commentary, it does not deliver on it. And in fact, goes so hard in the opposite direction that it lands not at “rich people cry too” but rather “some beautiful rich people are really living better lives than the rest of us… and they deserve it.”
Talk about a toothless waste of time. This is a show with no insight into the human condition other than a light desire to exploit people’s lowest points. It takes us to those depths and offers nothing for our trouble.
