‘A thrilling, thrilling ride’: Why The Polygamist should be your next TV obsession | television

AAre you bored with your summer entertainment already? Did you devour that raucous novel on the beach? Did you finish rewatching Suits for the third time on the plane? Has your algorithm run out of ideas and started feeding you the same reels and memes you’ve liked for weeks? Do I have a recommendation for you?

The Polygamist is a breathtaking, thrill-seeking ride that offers more hairpin turns, sudden drops, and false exclamation marks than a day at an amusement park. You can’t beat the bang for the buck: The cost of admission is actually covered by your Netflix subscription, which gives you 22 half-hour episodes — a staggeringly large sum harking back to the days of television bygone.

Don’t you think you have the stamina for all 22 people? Polygamist will ask you to hit the “Next Episode” button before Netflix can ask you if you’re still watching. It’s the story of a self-made real estate mogul who can’t keep it in his pants and proceeds to burn the lives of everyone around him before he destroys his own. The effect is deliciously soapy. Gimmicky online reviews of the series often describe it as a telenovela – which is remarkable for a South African-produced series.

Not only does The Polygamist use South Africa as a glamorous backdrop of vistas, fashion and extravagance – it certainly has viewers looking to grab their passports. Its biggest trick is that it refuses to translate itself into something more familiar to an international audience. Cultural specificity is the point.

I was initially surprised by the English overdubbing while watching the first scene: Jonassi at his funeral. But that quickly disappears when his long-suffering wife Joyce, also known as the emotional center of the series, calls him a “motherfucker” on top of his open coffin in perfect synchronization of both overdubbing and subtitles. It was a useful reminder of the reality of multilingualism in South Africa, where people often switch between languages ​​(Zulu, Xhosa, Afrikaans) within the same thought or sentence, conveying layers upon layers of meaning.

Polygamy does not meet the Western outlook either. There are no White Shadow figures to decipher this chaotic world of colonizing eyes. Skin tones range in all shades of brown, reflecting the vastness of blackness itself. Women sport afro-themed hairstyles, come in a variety of body types and are highly sought after by Jonassi – more than anything else. Polygamy invites viewers into a lush, lived-in world that is not packaged for export, and does not compromise cultural specificity for universal appeal. It’s a crypto-K-drama gamble that’s paying off big: since its debut last month, the South African series has climbed into the top 10 most-watched shows on Netflix globally.

But what really elevates “Polygamy” from guilty pleasure to full-blown summer obsession is its bravado in its storytelling — much of which draws from the acclaimed novel of the same name by Zimbabwean author Sue Nyati. The series realizes that suspense isn’t always just wondering what happens next; Sometimes the fun comes from watching the disaster unfold in slow motion, with your mouth open. Showrunner Akin Omatoso doesn’t rush things. Early episodes that initially feel meandering end up laying the groundwork for bombshells that suddenly happen Everything Which came before being locked into place with a satisfying click.

The twists are too exciting to give up on – and the ones you see coming hit just as hard as the ones you don’t. (Warning: If you’re wary of spoilers, disconnect from the rest of the Internet until you’ve finished.) Even presenting the main character at his funeral, with his wife cursing his corpse when the gates of hell broke loose, is something that immediately makes you wonder: Who was he among God’s children? This man? Answer: Probably one of the most despicable villains on television. If you thought romantic infidelities couldn’t get any messier than J.R. Ewing cheating on his sister-in-law in Dallas, get ready.

The joy of Jonassi is that he’s not just some mustachioed villain that Tyler Perry might draw and over-explain. He is a man shaped as much by his unlikely rise from the town as by the women he charms, controls, and ultimately destroys: Essie, the first love who nurtured his big dreams; Joyce, the socialite who dusted him off and put him on the map; Matiba, the work wife who provided her escape even did not. All the while, the women struggle to reconcile their devotion to Jonassi with their own ambitions, independence, and sense of right and wrong. The tension doesn’t just feel real; It helps you understand how these women could want to kill him and Nurse him back to health at the same time.

Jonassi doesn’t just expose the contradictions in the women around him; He reveals them in everyone. His daughter Mbumi is a daddy’s girl to a fault. His brother Magesh Gomora dutifully cleans up all the mess, reinforcing the underlying tragedy: the man everyone sees as the “good” brother continues to enable the bad brother. Menzi, Jonasi’s eldest son, is a source of shame to the old dog, precisely because he did it So Lots of reverence and respect for the women in their lives. This moral complexity is what keeps “Polygamy” from collapsing into hackneyed stereotypes or cultural caricatures, even as it invites broader conversations about female agency and the complex deals people make in pursuit of status, security, and love.

Is polygamy an ideal proposition? No, but it’s the kind of wonderful melodrama that will only be spoiled by perfection. It’s colourful, it’s hot, with just the right balance of light and heaviness – it’s exactly what summer TV should be. Air it while it’s hot.