Sweet Magnolias is pleasant, undemanding television whose central friendship makes its modest troubles worth following. We recommend it for the company, with the warning that its determination to be comforting can leave the drama short of bite.
Sheryl J. Anderson’s Sweet Magnolias offers the pleasure of spending time with people who take one another’s troubles seriously. It is good, undemanding comfort television, worth trying if an evening of friendship and manageable trouble sounds welcome. The small-town setting and ordinary personal difficulties establish a modest scale, and the programme usually seems content with it. We can respect that choice without pretending every conversation has something fresh to say.
The friendship between Maddie Townsend, Dana Sue Sullivan and Helen Decatur is the main reason to stay. Joanna Garcia, Brooke Elliott and Heather Headley give us three people whose company can sustain interest when the drama itself is slight. We found their mutual concern soothing; the women give ordinary problems the attention that a more impatient series would reserve for a catastrophe. There is pleasure in watching a programme allow its central characters to care so openly, without treating their affection as something embarrassing that needs a joke to excuse it.
We found Daniel A. Davila’s production design welcoming, though a little too agreeable to make us curious about the town. James Jandrisch’s music suits that gentleness; we wanted more room for discomfort. Neither contribution gets in the way of the central friendship, and both help the programme remain easy company. The performances are left to supply most of the unease, which is asking a good deal of such lightly handled material.
The weakness is how often mildness becomes an excuse to avoid pushing a difficult feeling further. We do not need a crisis in every episode, but we do need a conversation to alter our understanding of the people having it. Too much here is agreeable in advance, with little to challenge our first impressions. The writing can make sympathy feel automatic, and sympathy holds our attention for only so long when the characters’ problems are being treated this gently.
Within the small-town ensemble drama, that is a familiar bargain, and Sweet Magnolias keeps it capably enough. It gives women’s friendship sustained attention and regards everyday difficulties as sufficient material for a story. We would rather have that than strained attempts to make every domestic problem carry some sweeping message. Still, the lack of urgency will frustrate anyone hoping that an amiable beginning will quickly give way to something more demanding; the modest ambitions are part of the attraction here.
The qualification is simple: liking the central company is essential, because the writing offers few other reasons to keep returning. For us, the friends provide enough warmth to make the smaller troubles worth hearing about, even when the telling could be brisker. This is a programme for an evening when there is no appetite for being tested, and there is no shame in making that choice. Try it for the women; stop if their problems begin to feel like additional obligations.
