Palm Beach (2019) - Movie Review

With how often I’ve gotten into class divides and the frictions between the haves and have-nots in these reviews, I get the feeling I should have problems with this film right off the bat just on principle. Set in the titular Northern Beaches suburb, basically one of the poshest places in my section of the world, the story follows a group of relatively well-off older people and their struggles with growing old and the relationships they’ve made over their lifetimes. ‘Woes of the upper class’ is the kind of thing that should instantly set off my bullshit detectors, and yet, that wasn’t really a problem for me. If anything, I wish it was more egregious along those lines because that would mean actually getting a reaction out of me.

It’s a case of low-stakes, high-talent entertainment, as the cast is very good and easy for me to vibe with (Richard E. Grant will never not be a joy to see on the big screen) but the script they’re reading and the characters they’re portraying don’t have anything all that interesting to them. The story nudges at weighty ideas like clinical depression, aging ennui and the longer-term complications of infidelity, but for the most part, we’re just watching overqualified talent lounging around an admittedly gorgeous-looking house. Not really doing anything, just… chilling.

For as much credit as I can give to Bonnie Elliott for capturing the beauty of this affluent part of the country, or the rustic oldies rock and jazz soundtrack, or even to the acting chops of Bryan Brown, Jacqueline McKenzie and the aforementioned Richard, it only amounts to a pretty picture with little substance behind it. It hasn’t been nearly long enough since I last checked my watch this many times while at the cinema.