It hadn’t been my intention to watch DTF St. Louis, which is packaged like a conventional adultery-themed murder scandal. But one brain-numbing day, I put it on anyway, thinking its impressive cast was enough of a hook. In fact, the show is more interesting than it appears, sustained through its mundane early paces by stellar acting and a striking nonlinear approach, which ultimately delivers unexpected payoff.
DTF St. Louis follows the unlikely friendship of slick weatherman Clark Forrest (Jason Bateman) and shlubby American Sign Language interpreter Floyd Smernitch (David Harbour), who meet when Floyd saves Clark’s life during a broadcast. The two become fast friends, their closeness evidenced by their mutual willingness to sign up for “DTF St. Louis,” an anonymous dating app for adulterers looking to cheat on their spouses. Floyd has been struggling to keep the desire alive with his disgruntled wife Carol (Linda Cardellini), while Clark just seems to be scratching the seven-year itch. Unfortunately, their escapades lead to tragedy; the dating app turns out to be a key clue when Floyd mysteriously winds up dead in the locker room of a local community pool. The subsequent investigation pairs an odd couple: veteran homicide detective Donoghue Homer (Richard Jenkins), a stodgy old timer, and savvy Jodie Plumb (Joy Sunday), a younger cop who specializes in “special crimes,” giving her added insight into the sordid proclivities of suburban midwesterners. When their investigation reveals Clark and Carol were having an affair, Homer quickly seizes Occam’s Razor, assuming either the wife of the other man is the prime suspect. But as Plumb challenges Homer’s stubborn ways, they slowly learn that the web of secrets surrounding Floyd’s death is more nuanced and complex.
There’s a peculiar problem with DTF St. Louis in that its strategy is to present as something over-familiar and conventional: a lurid murder-mystery plot involving cheating spouses, something along the bland lines of Love & Death. Even sensing a misdirect, this approach makes the early episodes feel uninspired, the tired old story of jaded middle-aged people whose attempts to spice up their lives end up tragically shattering their perfectly good monogamous circumstances. Fortunately, it has superb performers in all the key roles, and quickly establishes a time-jumping unpredictability that peels away the onion layers of the principals’ relationships, making an outwardly shopworn scenario more intriguing. Bateman is great casting as the vapid weatherman with a soft underbelly, while Cardellini deploys mischievous villainy with her usual aplomb. But Harbour is the revelation here, transforming the slightly dim but well-meaning Floyd Smernitch into a uniquely sympathetic, nuanced figure. Add to that the quirky, humor-adding rapport of Jenkins and Sunday — whose characters, frankly, could center a wildly entertaining spinoff — and there’s more than enough surface class to sell DTF St. Louis. But the show’s secret weapon is the swirling, elliptical structure, which cleverly shrugs off the stale trappings to expose a more surprising resolution than expected.
