Watching this episode, I felt the show finally leaned fully into the playful absurdity that always suited it, and I found myself having a lot of fun with it even when a few choices felt a bit too loud for their own good. The setup is classic Palm Royale: a scandal blooms, gossip spreads faster than humidity, and Maxine rushes in with a mix of bravado and panic, hoping she can keep her carefully arranged world from falling apart. Season 2 has already been building her desperation inch by inch, but Episode 3 pushes her into a new corner. She becomes the self-appointed investigator of a “crime” she barely understands, which - predictably - results in a chain of misguided interviews, accidental confessions, and social blunders that had me both rooting for her and wanting to gently shake her.
At the center is Maxine, played - as always - with jittery charm by Kristen Wiig. Her performance this week is especially sharp. She balances Maxine’s vanity and vulnerability in a way that makes her delusions of grandeur feel oddly sweet. There’s a moment where she interrogates a fellow club member with the confidence of someone who read half a detective novel once, and Wiig’s timing turns what could have been a throwaway gag into one of the episode’s most memorable beats. I appreciated how the direction allowed her awkward pauses and frantic reactions to breathe instead of rushing through them. This episode needs her frantic energy, and she delivers it without overplaying the comedy.
Another strong point is how the script handles the supporting cast, especially Dinah, whose dry observations cut through the Palm Beach haze with perfect restraint. If Maxine is a spinning top, Dinah acts more like the hand hovering above it, deciding whether to stop it or flick it harder. Her scenes add weight to the story and help ground the more outlandish moments. I also enjoyed the brief but satisfying appearance of Norma, whose unpredictable behavior remains one of the show’s secret weapons. Her involvement in the supposed “murder” adds just enough suspicion to keep the mystery afloat without turning the episode into a traditional crime plot.
The writing this week leans more heavily into satire, which works for the most part. There’s a running thread about the absurdity of Palm Beach charity culture, and the episode uses it as both background texture and plot device. Whenever Maxine tries to get serious answers, she runs into people who are more concerned about the seating chart for an upcoming luncheon than about a potential death. It’s ridiculous, but intentionally so, and the show seems fully aware of the social bubble it’s lampooning. The pacing reflects this as well—scenes bounce from one micro-crisis to another, echoing Maxine’s scattered focus. I liked this rhythm overall, although I admit a couple of sequences felt as though they were stretching a joke a bit longer than necessary.
One of the episode’s brightest elements is the visual direction. The costuming remains impeccable, but what struck me more was how the camera lingers on small glances, twitchy reactions, and those tiny social ruptures that ripple through the club like shockwaves. There’s a shot of Maxine trying to casually eavesdrop behind an enormous floral arrangement that made me laugh before she even opened her mouth, simply because the framing did half the comedic work. The set design continues to be delightful, blending pastel glamour with strategic hints of artificial perfection. It matches the show’s tone: shiny on the surface, chaotic underneath.
That said, the episode isn’t without flaws. While the “murder mystery” angle is entertaining, it occasionally leans too hard on coincidence and misunderstanding, making the tension sag in moments where the story seems to pause just to let the comedy do its thing. I also found the final reveal—more of a non-reveal, really—a bit underwhelming. The show has always thrived on anticlimax, but I was hoping for a slightly sharper twist to justify the buildup. Instead, the resolution felt like it evaporated just when it needed to hit. It doesn’t derail the episode, but it does soften its landing.
There’s also a small imbalance in tone. The comedic scenes sparkle, but the emotional beats lack space. When Maxine has a moment of self-reflection toward the end, it’s rushed, almost as if the episode were too eager to sprint toward its next punchline. I didn’t need melodrama—this is Palm Royale, after all—but a bit more quiet honesty would have added a welcome dimension. Season 2 has been teasing Maxine’s internal cracks more clearly than Season 1 ever did, and this was a chance to deepen them.
Still, I can’t deny that I enjoyed myself. Even when the writing trips over its own speed, the episode’s comedic confidence makes it easy to forgive. The dialogue is snappy without being smug, the performances feel lived-in, and the direction maintains a consistent sense of playful chaos without completely surrendering to it. The show seems to understand exactly what it wants to be at this point: a glossy, slightly unhinged social satire with a beating, if confused, heart. Episode 3 doesn’t reinvent anything, but it certainly leans into its strengths.
By the time the credits rolled, I felt both entertained and mildly exhausted in the best way. Maxine is still spiraling, still trying too hard, still believing she can finesse her way into power circles that will always see her as a curiosity. And that tension—between who she thinks she is and who everyone else sees—is what makes the show worth sticking with. This episode amplifies that dynamic while letting the cast do some of their funniest work of the season.
If Season 2 continues in this direction, with a little more attention to emotional clarity and a bit less reliance on spiraling misunderstandings, the show might find an even stronger rhythm. But even with its imperfections, Episode 3 is a lively, stylish, and thoroughly entertaining ride through the messy world of Palm Beach ambition.
Final Score- [6.5/10]