Review ‘Little Disasters’: Diane Kruger thriller disappoints
It can be disorienting to watch the Paramount+ limited series “Little Disasters” so soon after the surprise breakout success of Peacock’s “All Her Fault,” because the two shows share so many storylines and influences. (Although technically “Little Disasters” got there first; Paramount+ aired it in Britain and Ireland in May, and is only now getting a release in the United States.) Both are based on novels. Both are set in a prosperous environment of concerned mothers. Both begin with a child in danger, then follow the child’s caregiver as she spirals into panicky paranoia.
Adapted by creator Ruth Fowler and co-writer Amanda Duke from Sarah Vaughan’s 2020 novel, “Little Disasters” takes the shared mother thriller template even further. “All Her Fault” may be a domino in the chain started by “Big Little Lies” in 2017, but “Little Disasters” borrows both part of its title and a framework from the HBO touchstone. As the characters detail the events that unfold when seemingly “perfect” mother Jess (Diane Kruger) brings her 10-month-old daughter to a London emergency room with a skull fracture she can’t or won’t explain, they speak directly to director Eva Sigurðardóttir’s camera in a kind of Greek chorus — just like the fictional residents of Monterey in “Big Little Lies” did all those years ago.
Unsurprisingly, “Little Disasters” doesn’t transcend what it was so clearly inspired by. Likewise, the plot’s most fascinating tension, between vaccine skeptic Jess and her doctor boyfriend Liz (Jo Joyner) — who, of course, happens to be on duty when Jess shows up in the ER — doesn’t pay off in a satisfying way as the mystery is solved in the final moments of the six-episode series. But until then, “Little Disasters” is a compact and compelling exploration of the escalating tensions of one group of friends. The insights into having it all may be limited to empty platitudes from airport books (“Turning out being a perfect mother is impossible”), but “Little Disasters” places them in a new framework that acts as an effective hook. You can’t fault the show itself for how saturated the subgenre is, though executives should take note; You can accuses the company of not making full use of its own strengths.
Liz and Jess met ten years earlier in a support group for new mothers. Also in attendance were high-powered lawyer Charlotte (Shelley Conn, “Bridgerton”) and free-spirited Irish Mel (Emily Taaffe), completing a quartet that stayed together through differing career choices, economic achievements and booze-soaked arguments during a holiday in Provence. Half of the women work, half stay at home; half have financial problems, while half live comfortably; one struggles to conceive a second baby, while Liz has a third that is assumed will be a surprise, bringing a perhaps unwanted change to her once idyllic family that culminates in Liz rushing to the ER. The husbands are present, ranging from warm support (Liz’s) to good-natured ignorance (Charlotte’s, Jess’s) to downright dickishness (Mel’s), but they are peripheral in scope. The real action is among the mothers – sorry, mothers.
This simmering resentment, along with standard NHS protocol and the need to kick the story into gear, helps explain why Liz chooses to call social services when Jess unconvincingly insists that her baby daughter Betsey simply fell while crawling. Kruger gets the showiest role here, escalating Jess’s panic as the state becomes involved while her fundamental motivations remain unclear, but it’s Joyner who gives Liz a believable mix of genuine empathy and understandable pettiness. Liz does what she has to do when she sees a child in danger, and gives Jess several chances to explain herself. Still, she can’t quite deny that when a friend who once made her feel like she wasn’t good enough might secretly be a monster, there’s some relief that comes with the alarm.
Again, the most interesting thread in this tapestry – especially for Americans unaccustomed to the idea of free, public insurance – is Jess and Liz’s opposing attitudes toward health care. Vaccine skepticism is (sadly) mainstream in the US, but ‘Little Disasters’ links that not-so-fringe belief with Jess’s insistence on taking her children to private doctors rather than NHS doctors, a practice that police are beginning to view with suspicion. Kruger is allowed to keep her natural German accent, although the script is careful to note that Jess grew up in America to contextualize her anti-NHS prejudices. I wish her backstory provided a more specific explanation for Jess’ distrust of medicine, to better explore how often justified distrust of a dysfunctional system can lead to a conspiratorial path.
Instead, “Little Disasters” goes in a soapier direction, much like its prerogative. After Jess encounters Liz in the hospital, the absurd coincidences and conflicts of interest continue to pile up. Charlotte gives Jess legal advice; Mel looks after her older children; Bafflingly, Liz is allowed to remain on the periphery of her case even after the social worker arrives. I won’t spoil the central question: what really happened to Betsey, or what Jess knew and when. I’m just saying that the final answer prioritizes shock and surprise over the relationships cultivated by all this mingling. Honestly, it’s similar to the ending of ‘All Her Fault’, which revolved around hiding information from the public, rather than building on what had already been revealed. Many shows aim to ease the real pain of wealthy families not plagued by money problems, but few hold up.
All six episodes of “Little Disasters” are now streaming on Paramount+.
