Netflix's latest book adaptation is juicy but stops short of delving beneath the surface

We all know that scene in 'Love, Actually'. The one on Christmas morning with Emma Thompson. The story of a middle-aged woman who no longer feels desired by men is one that is at best a b-plot, sometimes comedic relief, but usually it is a quiet tragedy. I recently watched Muriel’s Wedding and, well, let's just say, Emma Thompson’s life looks a lot better if you’re looking at it from 1990s Australia.

The unnamed narrator (played by Rachel Weisz) of Netflix’s new show ‘Vladimir’ is aware of these stories and depictions – and then some. As a professor of English literature, she sees the world as a metaphor. All of the characters in the series know exactly what they’re doing – at least according to our narrator. Every comment has a double meaning, every act is a metaphor for an unspoken desire.

The series roughly follows the wife of a professor (played by Mad Men’s John Slattery) who is on trial for sleeping with his students. Our narrator is upset that these young women see themselves as victims. She turns to the camera and confides, “In my time, sleeping with a professor was hot.” 

She is bewildered by her colleagues, who were once fellow revolutionaries but are now treating their students like toddlers, terrified of ‘triggering’ them.

Just as she feels she is about to fade into obscurity, no longer the beloved, edgy professor she once was, and now the aging, out of touch, apologist – Vladimir (Leo Woodall) and his wife Cynthia (Jessica Henwick) join the staff at the English Department. Twenty years younger than her, Vladimir takes an interest in our narrator – or at least, she makes sure he does.

Her main advantage? She’s not his wife. 

She explains, “There’s a rather tried and true way to seduce fellow writers, and that is to give them some attention.” 

The show knows exactly what it's doing, because it's done it before. As I watched, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Netflix’s ‘The Chair’, another series about a middle-aged woman making excuses for her male colleagues' bad behaviour in the English department of a university.

Ultimately, the self-absorbed, over-educated, extremely privileged people learn only a little of their spouse's plight and even less about themselves. But becoming a better partner or person is not of interest to these characters and that makes the show all the more entertaining. The only morally pious character is the narrator’s only daughter, Sid (Ellen Robertson), and she is by far the least likeable in the series.

Rather than deal with morality, the writer of both the novel and its television adaptation, Julia May Jones, is interested in the politics of desire.

This is shown in the final conversation between the narrator and her husband:

“It’s the best feeling, though, isn’t it?"

“What?” 

“Desire.” 

“Not so much desire but what it does to a person.” 

I read the book ‘Vladimir’ when it came out, in the summer of 2024. Brat summer. Summer of Kamala Harris. I recoiled at this book, I was annoyed by what it was trying to tell me, this is a good thing. That summer was all about the young woman who had the world at her feet, it was about saying ‘fuck it’ to consequences; hope and rebirth were everywhere. And then here was this book that questioned young women and their motives, that gave a voice to a slightly judgmental, extremely pretentious older woman. She does not apologise for her opinions and she never doubts her abilities.

Ultimately, I don’t think this series was for me. It was a little too self-congratulating and tries a bit too hard to be ‘kooky’. The final pages of the novel are genuinely shocking but the series can’t bring itself to go that far and ultimately chickens out at the end, using a lazy narrative device to be able to film the cool scenes but not have to follow through.

If you want to have a good time and watch good-looking people be horrible to each other in their beautifully decorated homes, then this one is for you. Do me a favour though and read the book as well.