The Decameron, a new Netflix series, is quite easy to define. It’s a dark comedy about class and gender struggles set in 1348 Florence, Italy, during the Black Death. And yet, it’s one of the most unhinged, cleverly funny, and refreshingly bizarre shows I’ve seen lately.
You can’t quite describe it without losing your words midway. The eight-episode series is created by Kathleen Jordan, and stars Tanya Reynolds, Jessica Plummer, Saoirse-Monica Jackson, Zosia Mamet, Lou Gala, Amar Chadha-Patel, Tony Hale, Karan Gill, Douggie McMeekin, Leila Farzad, and more.
What’s The Decameron About?
Upon receiving an invitation from the Visconte Leonardo, a few chosen noble persons escape a black plague-ridden Firenze to come stay in his Villa Santa, where food, wine, and comfort are in abundance, and the pestilence has not yet arrived.
While the invitations were meant only for noble persons that were friends or family of the Visconte, what finally assembles is an interesting motley group that includes the Visconte’s insecure and self-centred future bride Pampinea (Zozie Mamet) and her devoted handmaiden Misia (an impressive Saiorse-Monica Jackson), his spoilt-brat cousin Filomena (Jessica Plummer) and her reluctant handmaiden Licisca (Tanya Reynolds), the heir of a rich banking family Panfilo (an effective Karan Gill) and his pious Catholic wife Neifile (a moving Lou Gala), and a hypochondriac nobleman Tindaro (Douggie McMeekin) and his womanising doctor Dioneo (Amar-Chadha Patel). While the Visconte himself is AWOL, the guests are attended by his dodgy steward Sirisco (an excellent Tony Hale) and a frustrated cook Stratilia.
Once again, we have a show for the book girlies who love medieval fiction, and the origins of The Decameron (roughly meaning ‘the ten-day event’) are rather interesting, too. It is loosely inspired by a collection of short stories written in the 14th century by Italian writer Giovanni Boccaccio.
The series deviates from the its source material quite a bit, borrowing mainly the framing—a few young women and men take refuge in a secluded villa outside Florence, where they spend two weeks full of raucous fun and fornication. The literary work has this group spend ten of those fourteen days telling one story each. By the end of their sojourn, they’ve told a total of 100 stories. While the series doesn’t follow this storytelling format, it does explore similar themes ranging from love, lust, greed, ambition for power, God, tragedy, the socio-political and economic struggles of their time, and so on.
The Decameron is like The White Lotus and My Lady Jane had a pandemic baby
A bunch of rich people take a vacation from their problems in a luxurious resort, served by those of lesser means, and find out they can’t escape their realities? The Decameron’s overarching theme is exactly that. For these characters, the invitation to Villa Santa feels like taking a holiday from the death and despair outside, as well as their personal problems such as debt, loneliness, their insecurities, their position in society, their sexual orientation, and more.
And just like The White Lotus, The Decameron’s commentary is laced with black humour, satire, and saying the most obnoxious things with a straight face, a very rich-people party trick. Take Pampinea, for example, who puts the “pamp” in pampered, as she exploits her handmaiden’s love for her till the very last drop, acting like a petulant child who needs her insecurities praised away and her stresses dismissed with a lullaby. Yet she never treats Misia as her equal, calling her a friend only when she wants to manipulate her.
Or look at Tindaro, who thinks woman are toxic quite literally and just being around them would make him sick, a belief encouraged by his “friend,” the doctor Dioneo, so he can keep Tindaro away from Filomena, whom they both are interested in. Tindaro often waxes eloquent about history and warfare, while patronising Filomena. Panfilo tolerates Neifile’s devotion to God, and takes advantage of her naïveté to avoid marital obligations because that would be “a sin.”
Some of its most over-the-top characters (like Tindaro) and moments seem caricaturish, as if plucked out of a Monty Python movie or a comedic production of a Shakespearean play. But as bizarre and ridiculous as it is, the show never misses to make a point about the harsher truths of class disparity, and how the rich view the less fortunate. I particularly enjoyed its commentary on death, which starts off as being rather nihilistic, with characters realizing death might be easier than living in this wretched world. And yet, they fight for life until the very end.
The Decameron borrows the musical tastes and tonalities of My Lady Jane, putting a contemporary spin on the medieval with its dialogues, ideologies, and music. While it isn’t rousingly feminist like My Lady Jane, yet much like the show, it has a strong female gaze that’s almost built into its DNA. You see, the author, Boccaccio, wrote a lot about women. He infused his Decameron with a sort of empathy for women, who were often deprived of the usual male agency and pursuits like freedom of expression, education, sexual and social liberty, and varied interests, while men got to do all of if without any shame or caveats attached to it.
And the show weaves that in, with an almost satirical take on the patriarchy that makes you not hate any characters, but actually understand why they are the way they are. Why the noblewomen are vain, damsels in distress, with a blind faith in God, while the men can appear to be well-read, intelligent, and reasonable because they had every opportunity to develop those skills, but in a time of crisis, not always the best. And why the servants are action-oriented, yet held back due to a complex relationship with their masters that is difficult to get out of.
The Decameron‘s depiction of lust reminded me of Sex Education in how devoid of judgement or titillation it was. Its characters are horny, there’s an actual sex dungeon and even nudity, and the show itself is often bawdy, but not quite steamy or sexy. There are misogynists and f***boys, saints and sinners, tender and toxic love stories, and queer characters and a sapphic love story with a scene that explains how complex relationships can be.
Furthermore, the usual dangers of being a woman in a man’s world, especially in the middle of a catastrophic epidemic are palpable but never spill into unnecessary violence porn. Just the possibility of it hangs in the air, minus the actual violence. And that’s such a welcome relief.
The Decameron is funny and clever, but takes time to take effect
I will admit, you will either like the series or you won’t. The first few episodes establish the characters and their relationships, and do so at a leisurely pace. Despite the occasional laughs, and the bawdy fun, you might find yourself wondering where this is going, but I’d recommend you stick with it. The story picks up midway, around episode 5, after Sirisco the steward loses his cool, and the arrival of a new guest shakes things up massively. That’s when things start getting a little macabre, the jeopardy rises, and the outside world starts pushing its way in to shatter the “peaceful refuge” illusion of Villa Santa.
The performances make it easier to stick with it, because it looks like everyone is just having the time of their lives playing these fascinating characters. Tanya Reynolds, a favorite Sex Education alum is well cast as Licisca. Zozie Mamet as Pampinea is so good, you’ll struggle to like her and defend Misia’s continued devotion to her. Saoirse-Monica Jackson as Misia blew my mind, as she nailed everything from the accent to the eccentric mannerisms. Douggie McMeekin made Tindaro a character you just couldn’t hate, and trust me, he was being douch-y a lot!
Having survived a pandemic together, The Decameron brings easy relatability to its themes, even if it is set in 14th century Italy. I mean, the class and gender struggles continue to exist, and when a pandemic like Covid strikes, it does bring out the best and worst of humanity, along with a lot of self-reflection, didn’t they? Rich treating poor like crap? Check. Women being burdened with household chores, exploited, belittled, patronised, constantly under threat of harm on their person? Check. People acting crazy during a time of crisis? Check.
See? The Decameron is probably essential post-pandemic viewing.
Published: Jul 31, 2024 06:32 pm