Here’s how you know you’re having a bad night: Your boss dies under questionable circumstances during a State Dinner at the White House, and everyone around you is certifiably out of their minds. The President and his family: unhinged. The President’s unelected advisor: vain and shady. The staff: suspicious. The Australian contingent, including rumors of Kylie Minogue and Hugh Jackman: charming but trouble. You might generously call these people quirky, but that would mean you have a high tolerance for pandemonium. Your only hope is the world’s greatest detective. Miss Marple? Yes, but no. Sherlock Holmes? Another yes, but not this time. Benoit Blanc? Good guess, but nope. It’s the newest “greatest of all time.” The global G.O.A.T of unsolvable mysteries: Cordelia Cupp.
132 rooms. 157 suspects. One dead body. 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. That’s the murder-by-numbers setup for “The Residence,” the new Netflix whodunit series created by Paul William Davies and infused with Shondaland’s signature wit, eccentricity, and realness. Inspired by the non-fiction book of the same name by Kate Andersen Brower, this show’s accuracy and historical factoids could make you a champion on “Jeopardy.” But from one game to another, “The Residence” is more like watching a live-action role-play (LARP) on a three-dimensional Clue board. We have our locked-door murder; a sprawling, labyrinthine house; possible murder weapons everywhere—so many good, heavy antiques to choose from. And a list of suspects more populous than the Bible.
“The Residence” makes a nice companion to Hulu’s smash hit “Paradise”—the other genre-defying White House murder mystery of the season—but its inspirations are easier to spot. The episode titles are clues. Each is named after a famous mystery, from “The Fall of the House of Usher” to “Knives Out” to “The Mystery of the Yellow Room” which is regarded as one of the first locked-room mysteries. During a conversation with the cast at the Motion Picture Association (MPA) in DC, writer and showrunner Davies added to the list, saying, “Tonally it’s me, for better or worse. The things I love most are things that do more than one thing. It’s, obviously, a comedy, but it also has some real poignancy… moments of real dramatic tension. There’s even romance.”
What’s unexpected are the references to the 1963 comedy-thriller “Charade”—a favorite of Davies’ that he calls, “An amazing movie with an incredibly tight plot that is also very funny and very romantic.” (He has good taste.) The episode titles and inspirations do more than nod to famous mysteries—they set the tone for each chapter, drawing us in through familiar and beloved books and movies.
“The Residence” also leans into workplace comedy and occasionally jumps the tracks into thriller territory. Here’s the first of many twists: Capitalizing on the current success of cozy mysteries, there’s a dynamic duel of opposites at the center of the investigation. The brilliant but unconventional Detective Cordelia Cupp (Uzo Aduba) finds a foil and partner in the eager but conventional Special Agent Edwin Park (Randall Park).
On the night she’s called into the White House, Cordelia is the world’s most sought-after sleuth, a consultant for the Metropolitan Police Department who is part birding enthusiast and all genius. With an eidetic memory and razor-sharp observational skills, she sits firmly in the “Benoit Blanc” category of detectives. Dressed in earth-toned blazers and the tweeds of a classic English professor, Cordelia is so competent and confident she rattles people into giving themselves away. There’s no feigned bumbling or naivete. She wants you to know you’re messing up, so you trip yourself up sooner. That doesn’t mean this case is easy to solve.
Aduba imbues Cordelia Cupp with an incredulous sense of humor and an unfettered sense of self that makes her passions tangible. This pays off as her birding becomes a tool for understanding the suspects and the crime scene more deeply, maintaining a sense of discovery in the character that expands when we see more of her personal life in the fourth episode. In the chat at MPA, Aduba said she used those traits and story beats to inform her character’s lower-pitched voice and distinct mannerisms. As a counter, Park is ruffled and impatient, forging a lovably nebbish but annoyingly uncreative character. Edwin is someone you’re unsure whether to hug or lock in a closet. It’s clear Cordelia has the same dilemma.
As an unwanted assistant to the investigation, Edwin is skeptical of Cordelia’s methods. He believes in Occam’s Razor: the most obvious explanation is probably true. Done, dusted, wrap it up. In many ways, Edwin is us—the audience’s POV character—reacting to Cordelia’s inscrutable mind with frustration but, eventually, awe. Their banter is sharp, their chemistry undeniable, and their evolving partnership becomes one of the show’s highlights. Watching Cordelia train Edwin in her personal “rules of engagement” is hilarious. Their seed of opposition-to-respect, then colleagues-to-friends, could grow into a Holmes-and-Watson relationship in future seasons.
Due to its remarkable size, profiling the entire cast isn’t feasible, but here are a few of the major players: Susan Kelechi Watson, a personal favorite, shines as Jasmine Haney, the bewildered but ambitious Assistant Usher who guides us through the inner workings of the residence; Giancarlo Esposito is the fastidious A.B. Wynter, the White House Chief Usher, while Isiah Whitlock Jr. plays Police Chief Larry Dokes to comedic perfection with a deep vein of emotional clarity and connection to Cordelia. He might be the lone honest person in the show, but since I haven’t seen the final episode, I’ll reserve judgment for now.
Ken Marino is high on the ham as Harry Hollinger, the President’s oldest friend and advisor. He’s a cunning manipulator who knows too much and almost nothing. Edwina Findley brings sassy energy as Sheila Cannon, a bombastic butler whose personality clashes with almost everybody. Meanwhile, Molly Griggs is Lilly Schumacher, the Socialite Social Secretary and a nepo baby who treats the White House like a pop-up event.
With such a large ensemble, the show cleverly gives each character their moment—whether it’s their motivations, quirks, or secrets coming to light. And as the investigation unfolds, it becomes harder to distinguish the guilty from the suspicious, making the mystery all the more compelling. Don’t blink because every clue, line of dialogue, or seemingly inconsequential detail comes into play. Everything matters.
That goes for the look and feel of the show too. It’d be interesting to get a peek at the scripts to see where the more creative cues were conceived. We know Davies wrote all eight episodes, working with production designer François Audouy, director Liza Johnson for episodes 101-104, and Jaffar Mahmood for episodes 105-108. Adding greater ambiance is the expressive costume design by Lyn Elizabeth Paolo. Together, these creatives spin visual metaphors into stunning imagery.
Davies credits Brower’s book along with a Senate hearing on C-SPAN, where he began to compare the floor plan of the third floor to a “Clue” board. True to his vision, the White House set is designed to open up in two distinct ways, allowing us to see what’s happening inside. The first is a dollhouse view, where the building is cut down the center vertically, revealing its interior rooms. The second is an overhead or game board perspective where we see the characters moving through the floor plan. This bird’s-eye view is paralleled by a falcon flying overhead in a later episode, doubling as a metaphor for Cordelia’s perspective as a birder observing the crime scene.
Those visually inventive storytelling techniques combined with the batty banter, frantically spiraling plot, and screwball cast are a portal into the action, making us active participants. It’s almost as if we’re playing the game alongside Cordelia and Edwin—Dungeons & Dragons-style.
However, while “The Residence” is undeniably entertaining, it isn’t without flaws. The series occasionally loses momentum. Not because the delight falters, but because there are so many persons of interest. For couch sleuths, it might be challenging to keep the details and clues organized, making it harder to solve the case before Cordelia. The start of the third act, particularly the sixth episode, slows the pacing. It ultimately ties back in but has a side quest quality. Perhaps eight episodes is too long without extensively diving into the leading duo’s lives, motivations, and backstories. Especially since the glimpses we get—like Cordelia’s family life, past and present—are so fascinating. A tighter, British-style six-episode season might have served the series better.
Still, its ability to weave small details into a complex whole ensures the slower sections pay off. The show’s strength is its emotional depth. By revealing the motivations behind each character’s behavior, the series builds compassion for them, and that prevents easy judgment on our side. Beyond the case, connecting us with the characters means this engine can run for multiple seasons—even a return to the White House. To heighten the thrills, I hope for a cold case linked to the nefarious backstory of a character we adore. Alternatively, the series could move to another famous residence: Monticello, Buckingham Palace, the Biltmore House, or even the Vatican. Oh, the places it could go for another season of charades and head games.
With its cozy and frenetic crime-solving duo of Aduba and Park, “The Residence” is a comedy of manners and murder that nails scintillating satire to the White House walls, compelling us to step inside. It’s an invitation to fans of whodunnits, character-driven shenanigans, dramas with hidden heart, and a good puzzle amidst the chaos.
Seven episodes screened for review. Now on Netflix.
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