‘The Burbs’ Review: Keke Palmer Grounds Peacock’s Hilarious Mystery Comedy

Of the dozen-plus Tom Hanks films from the 1980s to resuscitate, “The ‘Burbs” is a head-scratcher. The Joe Dante flick was largely panned by critics but went on to become a cult classic thanks to its all-star cast, which included Bruce Dern, Carrie Fisher, Rick Ducommun, Henry Gibson, Corey Feldman and habitual Dante lead Wendy Schaal. The dark tone, quirky humor and genre-bending premise of a group of suburban dudes investigating creepy new neighbors was inventive, but the film is also a satirical one-off that felt better left alone.

Enter the era of remakes and nostalgia, and “The ‘Burbs” is back in TV form with an eight-episode first season on Peacock. And, in a somewhat surprising twist for naysayers, it’s actually a fun watch that nails the tone of the original while still standing confidently on its own.

First-time showrunner but long-time scribe Celeste Hughey, whose writers’ room experience includes “Dead to Me,” “Palm Royale” and “High Fidelity,” has created her own cul-de-sac within the Hinkley Hills universe, with a new creepy estate for the nosy neighbors to explore. Executive producer Seth MacFarlane is a fan of the original film, and wanted to recreate it on the same cul-de-sac at Universal (where “Desperate Housewives” also filmed). He and fellow EP Brian Grazer hired Hughey based on her vision of a racialized young woman trying to find community within the wackadoodle neighborhood, particularly in a post-COVID world.

The result is a female-forward take with Keke Palmer starring as Samira, a new mother who moves to the childhood home of her husband, Rob (Jack Whitehall). There, she’s the only woman of color among a crew of older white women, including widow Lynn (Julia Duffy) and newer resident Dana (Paula Pell). Samira quickly adjusts by joining Lynn’s porch wine parties, which are also attended by the street’s slightly paranoid recluse, Tod (Mark Proksch), to discuss the mysteries of the house across the street. Rob, meanwhile, adjusts to the commuting life alongside his childhood bestie, Naveen (Kapil Talwalkar), who is always around now that his wife has left him.

It’s not until the estate goes up for sale and creepy new neighbor Gary (Justin Kirk) moves in that the action really kicks off, with plenty of homages to the original movie including a plate of brownies, a potential femur and a photo that comes “with the frame.”

From there, the mysteries unfold in layers, with multiple characters casting suspicion in fun turns that purposefully border on cheesy. These clues propel the episodes forward while fleshing out character layers and idiosyncrasies that build rapport with the audience. As this version of Hinkley Hills emerges, it’s easy to picture these people coming together in real life. They have too much time on their hands and need something larger to distract them from their problems, problems that serve as mini-mysteries along the way.

The performances are key to that balancing act. Palmer anchors the series with ease, grounding the comedy as a lawyer who needs to put her brain to use while on maternity leave. Her reactions to, but acceptance of, those around her make her a relatable, funny character, one whose enthusiasm for learning the truth is also played for comedy. She and Whitehall have great chemistry and come across as a team even when they disagree, making them a solid couple to root for.

Surrounded by the strange neighborhood watch, they also have plenty of other relationships worth exploring. Duffy brings warmth and compassion to Lynn, while Pell’s Dana is a standout as a loud but enthusiastic character whose scenes with Proksch’s Tod are perfectly calibrated. Then there’s Kirk, who plays Gary with a calm coolness that screams creep but also has you wondering what’s going on behind closed doors.

What really sets this iteration apart though is Hughey reframing it through a modern lens. By centering women, and specifically a Black woman, in a space historically coded as safe, white and male, “The ’Burbs” doubles as an exploration of who gets to feel secure in suburbia, and who never really has. Samira’s outsider status isn’t just social; it’s racial, generational and emotional. She questions what others are quick to ignore and that grounds the surrealism in a whole new way.

Those themes never overwhelm the show’s lighter touch, of course, but add a relevant tone that answers the questions of why this film and why now. The ideas are baked into the dialogue and jokes, offering an opportunity for the characters to have real conversations amid the tomfoolery. It’s a hard balance to achieve, but this new take does it delightfully.

Ultimately, “The ’Burbs” works because it understands that paranoia is more fun when it’s rooted in character rather than situation. The show trusts its audience to laugh at nonsense happening in the cul-de-sac while also recognizing the common anxieties of isolation, loss of identity, racial otherness and the fear that safety is never guaranteed. Yet somehow it never takes itself too seriously.

In doing so, this remake justifies its existence. It honors the cult appeal of the original without chaining itself to it, swapping suburban male hysteria for a sharper perspective that feels of the moment. In the end, “The ’Burbs” proves that some neighborhoods are worth revisiting, especially when you know exactly what to dig up.

“The Burbs” premieres Sunday, Feb. 8, on Peacock.