One of my first thoughts about Neighbors was why there has never been a TV show quite like this before.
Then I considered that its closest analog is How To With John Wilson. Both shows take a relatively straightforward docuseries format, but with the real intent of exploring incredibly idiosyncratic – and sometimes flat out bizarre – people living among us.
As it happens, both are HBO half-hour reality series, which also gives each a certain pedigree.
In the case of How To, John Wilson – who is an alumnus of Binghamton University, as am I, I feel compelled to add – is a quirky, anxious voice behind the camera who uncovers all kinds of weird and surprising things by way of going around New York City and asking questions under the cover of a topical “how to” subject: cooking the perfect risotto, putting up scaffolding, making small talk, and so on.
The format of Neighbors is even simpler: each episode chooses two sets of neighbors in different parts of the country, with the notion of examining why each is having some sort of dispute.
Neighbors is an A24 show produced by Josh Safdie, who has conjured up a reality show with unusual and appealing qualities. This is no typical reality show – it drips with slightly surreal and off-kilter vibes.
The first episode, “Shoreline Defender,” is ultimately about access. In a rural area of Montana, neighbors are furious at each other over a relative newcomer, Josh Alspaw, not allowing his neighbors – and, importantly, their horses – to pass through the land on his large property, including a private road.
Really, though, what we’re watching is a dusty, modern Western, with elements of doomsday prepping and bonkers conspiracy theories and rugged individualism.
At its core, Neighbors is about whether people in modern America have the capacity to compromise.
Meanwhile, all the way over in the Florida panhandle, beach access is at issue. The homeowners feel the beachfront in front of their houses is “theirs,” while the public is mostly convinced the beach is there for all to enjoy.
As a massive John D. MacDonald fan, whose dozens of novels often examined the dodgy doings of monied interests and real estate developers in mid-Century Florida, I found myself thinking that he’d be quite interested in the doings of this part of the episode.
From the show’s perspective, the actual law and who is “right” or “wrong” are much less important than examining conflicts popping up in American life during the post-COVID, tech-accelerated Trump 2.0 years.
While the first episode was quite good, I found “The Farm” to be even stranger and more entertaining.
In Philadelphia, the premise of “the crazy cat lady” turns out to be just the tip of the Crazy Town iceberg.
The self-professed cat lady in question, Jean, lets her cats wander all over to the extent that the next-door neighbor, Marice Johnson, and his family can’t even use their small front yard and stoop due to cat poop and the associated stench.
First of all, Marice is naturally hilarious and has a vibe that reminds me a bit of comedian Hannibal Buress. When Marice says, “Every day I see cats. I ain’t never seen so many cats in my life,” I knew I was all in purely on sublime delivery levels.
But the real bizarro rabbit hole is going on next door with Jean the cat lady. When she’s not letting her bevy of cats roam (one of whom is named Butters), she’s writing religious-themed screenplays. One involves the life of Jesus during a time period during which not much is known, and she’s quite hopeful that she can get Mel Gibson to direct it.
Soon we meet Frederic, who is “supporting” Jean in her screenwriting pursuits, and who we quickly learn might be the most eccentric person we’ve met on Neighbors yet. He runs the Quantum Healing Room, featuring the Energy Enhancement System.
It’s some kind of new age healing studio that charges people a bunch of money – “$120 per session” – to sit in front of large digital panels that he professes have healing powers ranging from reversing cancer to “helping with autism.”
The digital panels have all kinds of “fancy” blipping lights, and Frederic speaks of things like “charging at the cellular level” and “biophotons.”
“The Fibonacci sequence was actually built into the scrolling effect of these as well,” he explains to his… patients? Guests? Suckers?
The weirdo grift is alive and well in Trump’s America, as Neighbors shows us.
Things aren’t quite as compelling over in the titular farm in Indiana, though no less idiosyncratic. Trever, who looks like Rob Schneider and Gallagher had a child, has a large farm going on in his front yard, which oddball neighbor Darrell takes umbrage with, mostly out of property value concerns.
Even as there’s a ruling against the neighbors in question in “The Farm” – Jean is on the losing side in an appearance with Marice on Judge Judy, and a local board moves to shut down Trever’s front yard farm – we’re left with the understanding that not very much may change in reality.
At least anytime soon.
While Neighbors is lightly handled from a production standpoint and often fun, there are deeper themes being poked at – of entitlement, of the breakdown of community, of greed, and of many of us now living in our own digital bubbles of news and information and entertainment.
It’s worth watching.