Jump in, The Waterfront’s Fine

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You’ll quickly recognize numerous television series that are similar to “The Waterfront”. The Buckley family in this show resembles those from “Ozark”, as they become entangled in drug trafficking and various local and international conflicts. Fortunately, unlike “Ozark”, there is no blue filter used here. Similarly, the government regulations and industry norms faced by the once-working-class family mirror those on “Yellowstone”. The creator of “The Waterfront”, Kevin Williamson, has a past success with “Dawson’s Creek” which also revolves around good-looking people living near water, who seem to avoid spending time in the water because they are constantly caught up in melodramatic romantic entanglements. This sense of familiarity offers comfort, and the show provides entertainment due to its sensational, slightly over-the-top organized crime storylines that can lift your spirits during the hot, sticky days of summer.

In a fitting manner, The Waterfront, releasing all eight episodes today on Netflix, aligns seamlessly with the hot and humid narrative style typically found in series debuting during summer seasons like Snowfall, Claws, and Animal Kingdom. The creator, influenced by his upbringing in North Carolina with a fisherman father who resorted to illegal means to survive, masterfully adjusts each genre element within the series to an impressive degree. The Buckley family, teetering on the edge of collapse and resorting to one final job as a last-ditch effort, finds camaraderie and kinship through acts of murder and blackmail – a storyline you’re likely familiar with. While it might not be groundbreaking in terms of narrative, it would be misleading to call The Waterfront original. Just like a delightful cheeseburger made with standard American cheese or a perfect-fitting pair of classic blue jeans, it follows a traditional formula. However, its storytelling and character development is reminiscent of prime-time soaps from the late 20th century rather than the grim, dark family sagas prevalent in today’s prestige TV.

In a different, more casual phrasing: This show, The Waterfront, doesn’t shy away from the violence you’d expect in its genre, but it’s not where the real heart of the series lies. Instead, it delves into melodrama, shedding off most of the usual baggage that can weigh down stories like this. If you’ve ever yearned for a return to the days of Melrose Place, this could be your show: love triangles, hidden identities, abductions and betrayals, class struggles, and heated custody battles. Plus, a fashionable woman who seems to live in North Carolina humidity wearing nothing but knockoff Chanel tweed suits. That’s some over-the-top behavior! The Waterfront plays with these quirks, giving the impression that it’s secretly winking at its audience while still maintaining a narrative about families rising and falling in America, as Billy Costigan Jr. might say, echoing Nathaniel Hawthorne in The Departed.

As “The Waterfront” opens, the Buckley family finds themselves in turmoil. For years, they’ve held sway over the fictional town of Havenport, North Carolina, owning the harbor, fishery, a fancy restaurant, and vast tracts of undeveloped coastal land. They are the sort of individuals who reside in grand homes while still viewing themselves as the epitome of common folks (or perhaps the ocean’s salt), and their hands-on management style has kept them well-regarded despite being Havenport’s de facto monarchy. However, their reign is starting to wane. The patriarch, Harlan (played by Holt McCallany with a constant scowl as if he’s trying to meet a frown quota each episode), has been incapacitated by two heart attacks, and his wife Belle (Maria Bello) and son Cane (Jake Weary) are grappling with overfishing, strict environmental regulations that eat into their profits, and skyrocketing fuel costs that make maintaining their fleet of ships a financial burden. In years past, Harlan’s father, and later Harlan himself, had supplemented their income by dealing Colombian cartel drugs. Yet, Harlan had worked diligently to extricate the Buckleys from this illegal business. Unfortunately, he is taken aback to discover that Cane, burdened by the family’s mounting debt, has drawn them back into it.

In ‘The Waterfront’, Harlan exhibits a strong, composed demeanor while Cane is uncertain and insecure, often finding himself trapped by duty and his father’s habit of undermining him, even physically. Although both men have a masculine habit of rolling up their shirt sleeves, they are polar opposites, a contrast skillfully portrayed by McCallany and Weary. The narrative flows smoothly with well-timed exposition and dialogue; for instance, Harlan characterizes today’s drug dealers as “just roughnecks seeking a payday from any fool with a poppy field.” Nevertheless, it is Weary who delivers some of the most telling lines, imbuing Cane’s self-assessment with a touch of wistfulness: “I’m really good at almost.” This resonates effectively due to Weary’s previous experiences in the familial crime genre on ‘Animal Kingdom’, and McCallany’s proven talent as a complex father figure in ‘Mindhunter’ and ‘The Iron Claw’. Together, they create the series’ most poignant emotional journey and its sharpest insights into navigating shifting circumstances.

Regrettably, the Buckley women seem to take a backseat in terms of development compared to their male counterparts. This isn’t due to subpar performances from Bello or Melissa Benoist, who plays Bree, the outcast daughter of the Buckleys. In fact, Benoist delivers commendable work once her character’s motivations as a recovering addict become clear. However, the storylines for Belle and Bree appear to have been compromised in favor of their future roles if The Waterfront is renewed. Instead, they are being positioned for more significant developments later on while Harlan and Cane confront this season’s antagonists, including Topher Grace’s drug lord character, Grady, who runs a “humble little opium startup.” Some viewers might find the show jarring as it shifts between Grace’s humorous yet thin portrayal of the same old friendly Eric Foreman-like character and scenes involving Belle dealing with a fresh family secret or Bree fearing relapse. But that’s just soap operas for you – the dramatic swings and fast pace are par for the course, and The Waterfront consistently seems to have a deliberate strategy when handling these aspects.

Over the past few years, as the Sheridan-verse has broadened, shows about ordinary American characters have increasingly focused on those whose toughness is linked to traditional values, with some of these roles played by Sheridan himself. _The Waterfront_ doesn’t shy away from these conventions; it abounds with country music transitions, denim apparel, and countless luxury pickup trucks. However, what sets _The Waterfront_ apart is its criticism directed at individuals who only represent their own corrupt or greedy interests, rather than portraying villains as weak or incompetent men or power-hungry bureaucrats. This narrow focus keeps the internal conflicts of _The Waterfront_ manageable and its commentary on the American Dream insightful without devolving into political rhetoric associated with conservative states. The show’s attention to detail, from its beautiful, warm lighting to meticulous editing, ensures that nothing feels rushed. This care also extends to how _The Waterfront_ portrays the town’s minority residents, challenging the facade of this predominantly white, upper-class community. For example, Cane’s high school girlfriend Jenna (Humberly González), who returned to Havenport after becoming a successful journalist in Atlanta, is treated as help by those patronizing the Buckleys’ restaurant. A Black bank employee mentions that it took her 14 years to get promoted. These instances of casual discrimination feel like deliberate flaws on _The Waterfront_’s polished exterior, hinting that the show wants us to question our assumptions about which perspectives this type of program should prioritize and which it should ignore.

Belle tells Harlan, “Money seems to be reviving you in some way,” she says, a sentiment that encapsulates the core theme of The Waterfront. It’s clear now that being debt-free reduces stress, who would have thought! But it also explains why the show is so captivating. The smuggling aspect takes a backseat in these eight episodes; instead, we witness how their choice to re-enter crime alters this family. They become more calloused, anxious, and intrigued about what lies ahead, growing obsessed with honor in a world that feels corrupt. The Buckleys are starting to examine themselves as individuals, and the cast does such an exceptional job at self-reflection that they anchor all the interwoven sorrows and spectacles, pushing The Waterfront towards becoming a standout among thoughtful summer TV series.

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2025-06-19 14:54