‘The ‘Burbs’ Review: Keke Palmer Deserves Better Than Peacock’s Bland, Redundant Reboot

In 2026, it should come as no surprise that a suburban hamlet calling itself “the safest town in America” has a hidden history of violence. I mean, when Minneapolis, Minnesota — a city that’s predominant cultural stereotype is rooted in how nice its people are — is too dangerous for parents to trust their kids will make it home from school every day, can any American town be considered truly and simply safe? (Not from ICE! Not from this government! Not unless you’re grading on a curve!)

Even if you set reality aside (a reasonable request for a network comedy), seeing “the safest town in America” scrawled under a roadside welcome sign should register less as a reassurance than a red flag. To her credit, Samira (Keke Palmer) seems to take it that way: The new resident of Ashfield Place, a cul-de-sac nestled within a fictional New Jersey suburb, is immediately, insistently suspicious — as she should be. The Victorian across the street looks like a cartoon haunted house that’s come to life. Crows roost on its dilapidated shingles and fly off simultaneously, like a choreographed murder. Speaking of the M-word, its other meaning is rumored to have happened within the pink five-bedroom with an unfinished basement, resulting in its decades-long abandonment… until now. [dun dun dun]

Samira’s hair-trigger apprehension is a welcome change from her genre-forbearers, whose delayed reactions to obvious threats prove as annoying as they are unnatural; too many scared characters act like they’ve never seen a horror movie before; Samira acts like she never forgot what Eddie Muprhy said in “Raw.” But the astute self-awareness ends there. Her sudden shifts from on edge to easy-breezy makes “The ‘Burbs” premiere feel like it’s setting up a spoof movie. It’s not, and the tone never resolves itself.

Celeste Hughey’s Peacock adaptation is blunt and bland. The eight-episode first season offers plenty of promise early on: Palmer leads a strong cast in what initially appears to reframe Joe Dante’s 1989 film — half-a-comedy about suburban malaise, half-a-satire about how privileged paranoia and groupthink can destroy anyone perceived to be different — through the lens of the besieged minority party (in this case, a Black woman). But all that actively regresses after the first hour, and “The ‘Burbs” plods along absent a good point, or any point at all.

“Nope” this is not.

With a tension-less atmosphere and an affable ensemble, “The ‘Burbs” often feels like a slower, cheaper wannabe-successor to Hulu’s hit comic murder-mystery: Call it, “Only Murders in the Neighborhood.” What happened in the movie version doesn’t seem to matter to the series: There’s a whole new history to the neighborhood, a whole new cast, and a whole new case to crack. (There are plenty of odd little easter eggs, as if there’s a huge fandom demanding “The ‘Burbs” reboot be faithful, but don’t hold your breath for a Hanks cameo — all you’ll get is a photo).

Jack Whitehall and Keke Palmer in ‘The ‘Burbs’Courtesy of Elizabeth Morris / Peacock

The story centers on Samira investigating her creepy new neighbor with her other, slightly less creepy neighbors: The cul-de-sac crew includes Dana Richards (Paula Pell), a retired Marine who never leaves the neighborhood, Tod Mann (Mark Proksch), a rich loner who knows as much about his friends as they don’t know about him, and Lynn Gardner (Julia Duffy), a casually racist widow whose good intentions are supposed to make us forget she’s introduced by knocking on Samira’s car window, ready to run her out of town for being Black in a white neighborhood.

But hey, Samira can take it. She’s used to crazy white people. Her smug British husband Rob (Jack Whitehall) is the reason they’re living on Ashfield Place to begin with: He grew up there — his best friend Naveen (Kapil Talwalkar) still lives down the street — and his parents left them their house after retiring to a cruise ship. Tempted out of New York after a robbery in their building, the Fischers just want to enjoy their blessings… but then the new neighbor (Justin Kirk) calls the cops on Samira for bringing him brownies (aka the same thing Lynn accosted her for), and suddenly their picturesque property feels like it could be a trap.

“The ‘Burbs” keeps you guessing about the neighborhood’s many secrets — What’s going on in that old house? Who’s the new owner? Why’s he burning stuff in the woods and making weird noises in the basement? — but it never pushes those questions hard enough to build genuine suspense. The end of the premiere — when everyone rallies around Samira after her racial profiling incident — tells you what the show is really about: community. But doubts surrounding Dana, Tod, Lynn, and Naveen aren’t serious (even Lynn’s ignominious introduction gets swept under the rug), and what little there is to find out is held back at the expense of the ensemble. It’s hard to appreciate characters who won’t open up.

“The ‘Burbs” is so intent on preserving an air of mystery, it never develops any of its other attributes. It trades in sharp characters, commentary, and comedy for broad semblances of each, be it the image of a haunted house (without any real frights lurking inside), the appearance of a socio-political stance (without ever digging into the racial barriers facing Black residents living in enclaves of white flight), or the impression of a fun time (without enough jokes to fill a good comedy, twists to pay off a good mystery, or insights to deliver a valuable cultural assessment).

In perhaps the series’ greatest sin, given the envious trio of Palmer, Pell, and Proksch, it’s not even a good hang. All three proven performers have their moments, but they elevate the show, not the other way around — much like Tom Hanks and Bruce Dern elevated the original movie, which has more to say about the suburbs than the series does (even if you recognize its degenerative, ill-fitting conclusion).

If community is what really matters in “The ‘Burbs” — a point that could surely resonate right now — then the serious needs to showcase why community matters via its own rewarding group of neighbors. Instead, they seem disposable, like you could find them anywhere, and, worse yet, that tracking them down isn’t really worth the bother.

Nothing could be further from the truth, which just numbs whatever else “The ‘Burbs” hoped to make you feel.

Grade: C

“The ‘Burbs” premieres Sunday, February 8 on Peacock. All eight episodes will be released at once.