Last Tuesday, our beloved crime-solving podcasters Selena Gomez, Martin Short, and Steve Martin returned with the fourth season of Hulu’s hit series Only Murders in the Building. The show—which, as you can likely guess, follows another murder in the building this season—has grown quite a bit since the early days of Mabel (Gomez), Oliver (Short), and Charles (Martin) solving the mystery of the sudden death of Mabel’s childhood friend Tim Kono. What was once a fairly contained story about three washed-up residents of a fictional cushy apartment building, the Arconia, in New York City’s posh Upper West Side neighborhood, forming an unlikely friendship through Scooby-Doo-esque sleuthing is now much broader. The Arconia has since become something of a metaphorical open house: Where the prospect of gaining entrance used to feel exclusive—characteristically elitist, even—over the years, myriad love interests, celebrity cameos, and ancillary characters have been welcomed in, only to never be seen again. Now, four seasons in, one has to wonder if there are a few too many cooks in the Arconia’s kitchen.
Season 1 of Only Murders was simple: A murder of someone from the building, by someone in the building, happened in the building. The only outside factors entering this insulated setting were delightful supporting characters that were integral to making sure the plot pushed forward in an interesting way: Oscar, Mabel’s childhood friend and love interest who had a reasonable motive for wanting the victim dead; Cinda Canning, Tina Fey parodying Sarah Koenig as the host of a famous true-crime podcast; Detective Williams, the law enforcement representation. Nearly every other character in the first season was a resident of the Arconia or related to the protagonists, and all of the them, however small (like Detective Williams’ pregnant wife, Kiara), felt lived in, and formed a wider tapestry of characters that built the foundation of Only Murders’ ecosystem. We were primed to care about these unusual suspects because it stood to reason that they would all continue to matter as the show progressed. It was a tight-knit collage of roles—if the show had to leave the walls of the Arconia, it only traveled as far as Jersey.
Over the seasons, other short-lived characters have come and gone—for example, a running list of love interests for Mabel, all of whom seem to wind up nowhere—as even more new characters have been introduced. Even the main victims and killers of later seasons are less tied to previous seasons and the locus of the Arconia: Both the victim and killer of Season 2 were Season 1 characters, but the victim and killer of Season 3 were introduced in that season only. Now, Season 4 has brought in an entire cast of new characters, and it sometimes travels far away from the Upper West Side to find them. There’s the “Westies,” a group of misfits who live in the less glamorous west side of the Arconia (played by some familiar names, like Kumail Nanjiani). There’s also a recurring cadre of literal Hollywood celebrities, whom we first meet when our triumvirate heads to Los Angeles to sit down with a Hollywood producer, played by Molly Shannon, who tries to get the trio to sell their “life rights” so she can greenlight a movie based on their successful podcast. Too many new faces are introduced at once, giving the audience barely any time to care, even though these new faces end up mattering in big ways.
We’re hit with all of this uncharted territory even though there are still so many intriguing plot threads from earlier seasons left on the ground. In previous seasons, Oliver was rebuilding his relationship with his son; Mabel was kindling an incredibly sweet friendship with one-time suspect Theo, despite his entanglement with the death of Mabel’s friend Zoe; Charles decided to maintain a long-distance kinship with Lucy, the daughter of his ex-girlfriend; Detective Williams became a new mom; and Mabel had three romantic relationships, one for each season. All of that seems to have been wiped from the slate with this latest season. Mabel is a particularly severe case, given that the show seems to fully reboot her every season—not only when it comes to her love life, but also with regard to her earlier passion for art and painting, her trauma-induced memory loss, and more.
There are other supporting characters whose evolution could be fascinating to see unfurl, as well—for instance, that of Uma, the crotchety Arconia resident, and Lester, the Arconia’s doorman. The show actually does a great job of utilizing Howard, the annoying yet funny cat-loving theater buff of the Arconia who constantly tries to get in on the action of the main trio. I don’t understand why so few of the smaller players in Season 1 received the same development. Remember the small group of dedicated fans of the Only Murders in the Building podcast (one of whom was played by the internet’s favorite comedian, Jaboukie Young-White)? Wouldn’t it be cool to have even some idea of how popular the in-show podcast has become by getting reacquainted with those fans and seeing how their ranks have grown or lessened over time? Only Murders gives no hint that the in-show podcast has become that popular until its hosts are being called to Los Angeles to meet Eva Longoria, Zach Galifianakis, and Eugene Levy, who are slated to play their Hollywood proxies.
Instead, what Season 4 brings—in addition to introducing us to an armful of new people, with even more celebrity cameos to come, and straying almost 2,500 miles away from New York’s concrete jungle—is a continuation of the least interesting plotlines from the previous installments. I may not care for the Westies, but I really don’t care for the show’s insistence on foregrounding the evolution of Oliver’s relationship with Loretta (Meryl Streep), one of the few characters to cross over from Season 3. Whenever the show does find momentum, the pair’s long-distance relationship—or, rather, Oliver’s constant fretting about it—sucks the energy out of any act.
One can only guess at the reason: Streep is your favorite actor’s favorite actor, and a huge get for the show, so it’s not hard to imagine wanting to keep her on the call sheet for as long as possible. There’s also the fact that the onscreen romance between Oliver and Loretta may have translated to an offscreen one between Martin Short and Meryl Streep, who are currently rumored to be dating. But, not to be rude, why is that now my problem? I need not see it incessantly on my screen when murder is afoot! Add this to the list of reasons never to date your co-worker.
Despite my grousing, I’ll concede that Season 4 does have some highlights. This season’s murder victim, Sazz Pataki (Jane Lynch), is someone we’ve known since the show’s more humble beginnings, which might explain why all of the moments in which Charles ponders his relationship with Sazz are quite touching, and, at times, even funny. However, outside of Steve Martin nailing that pitter-patter song last season, the show has struggled to reach the highs of its first go-around. Chalk it up to too many new cogs in the machine, a misplaced focus on celebrity cameos, or a misreading of the dynamics that actually make the show special—take your pick. But it begs the question: If Only Murders in the Building needed to step so far outside of the building to stay relevant, maybe we should’ve wrapped the show up after its first season.
