The only inhabitants of the idyllic (and fictional) Scribbly Gum Island are the dysfunctional members of an extended family. When the matriarch dies, they are surprised to learn that she’s left her house not to one of them, but to an unlikely person in “The Last Anniversary” on AMC+.
The six-episode series is based on the 2005 Liane Moriarty novel of the same name. It’s the fourth TV adaptation of Moriarty’s work in eight years, including “Big Little Lies” and “Nine Perfect Strangers,” both of which star Nicole Kidman, who is also an executive producer with her production company Blossom Films. So it’s unsurprising to see that she and Blossom as executive producers here as well.
Kidman is strictly off-screen this time out. She and Moriarty are Australian, and it’s notable that Samantha Strauss, the show creator, has done something those previous outings did not: Retained the story’s Australian setting.
The home in question has been left to Sophie (Teresa Palmer), a freelance journalist whose beachy-boho appearance suggests a carefree existence. That’s a false front; she’s unhappy and adrift. She has a romantic streak and would like nothing more than to fall in love. So far, no dice. Then she gets a call from an ex-boyfriend informing her she’s inherited the house once owned by his grandmother. Uprooting her life and moving to the island seems as good a choice as any. (Despite the remote location, apparently drinking water, electricity and Wi-Fi are always in abundance. Details, shmeetails.)
The island itself is known for a mystery that transpired there — an event that has been told and retold for commercial purposes in the years since. Half a century ago, a young couple renting a cabin disappeared forever, leaving behind a baby girl in her crib. What happened? Their fate is unknown, but the infant’s isn’t. She was rescued by two teenage sisters living on the island and raised as part of their family.
One of those sisters is the now-dead matriarch who deeded her house to Sophie. (Are you still following the winding narrative?) Three more generations still live on the island, and while they have plenty of wide open spaces, it’s become a comically claustrophobic place for them. Cut off from the mainland, they are all they have for company, and their livelihoods are dependent on the island, where they offer a true crime tour led by a woman in a glamorous pantsuit and aviator sunglasses. It’s a sartorial choice humorously out of place in the picturesque nature setting.
“For over 50 years, police and public alike have tried to make sense of just what had happened,” she says. “Could the baby have killed them?” someone asks incredulously. “I can honestly say it was not the baby,” comes the reply. “And do you know how I know? That tiny baby” — dramatic pause — “was me.” Everyone gasps. It’s a hilarious reveal and the show knows it. That hooked me initially. Too bad the series can’t fulfill on that early promise.
The now-adult baby was given the name Enigma, which is also droll. She lives on the island with her assorted family members, and then Sophie arrives, disrupting everything. Sophie doesn’t push herself into their tangy dynamic so much as find herself caught in the middle of it, and things become more complicated when all kinds of clues come tumbling out and Sophie unravels the truth behind the missing couple.
If this sounds like a murder mystery, it’s not. It’s a sprawling narrative about multiple generations of women who are struggling to figure out who they are and what they value amid a history of secrets and lies that were borne of protective impulses. That hasn’t always worked as planned. The men in their lives are bumbling, terrible or just ineffectual. The past plays into everything, as does a cycle of love and heartbreak.
But the show itself doesn’t know where to put its focus, from postpartum depression to unhappy marriages to suicidal ideation to same sex relationships to comedically maladjusted coping mechanisms. Multiple character arcs are the backbone of any ensemble drama, but too many of these threads aren’t sufficiently deepened as they’re woven into a larger tapestry.
And yet “The Last Anniversary” nearly got me in the end. The final moment is dumb and clichéd — a big, goopy suggestion that Sophie will finally get her romantic happily ever after — but the moment just before that is terrific and it’s where the story should have ended. This is a show about women who are inextricably bound together, by circumstance but also by choice. That’s meaningful enough.
