Review: HBO’s “DTF St. Louis” Marches Toward Quirky Sex Fun and Murder

So I’m up to episode three in the new HBO series DTF St. Louis and digging it. My favorite show right now. Jason Bateman is playing against type: Usually he’s the good-hearted family guy with terrific comic timing, often playing the “straight man” character—the sane one around whom the wackos orbit. In this series, playing Clark Forrest, he’s a disturbed TV weather guy with kinky sexual fetishes that cloud his thinking. When he describes his sexual . . . proclivities . . . he’s hesitant, nebbishy, and captivating. But David Harbour, lately of Stranger Things fame (and infamy, kind of), plays the murder victim, Floyd, and does a great job. He’s a portly Sign Language expert with money problems, a wife whose side gig as a Little League umpire turns him off, and a stepson who (at first) hates him. Oddly enough he’s charming and funny and likable. Bateman has the tougher role as the more-successful friend who leads Floyd astray, sex-wise. Linda Cardellini plays Carol, Floyd’s wife, who is an obvious Suspect No. 1. But I don’t buy it. That would be too simplistic. My theory: Clark’s wife (Wynn Everett as Eimy Forrest) has been suspiciously absent so far. She’s not a suspect but we know nothing about her. Hmmm.

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