Little Fires Everywhere: an explosive series, pros and cons

Elena Richardson's perfectly ordered life in the residential community of Shaker Heights, a quiet suburb of Cleveland, Ohio, is suddenly shaken by the arrival of Mia Warren, an African-American single mother, and her daughter Pearl, who arrive in town in their old 1990 Dodge Caravan. Elena, the true queen of the neighborhood with a large and only seemingly impeccable family, driven also by white bourgeois guilt, decides to help her: she rents her the guest house and even offers her a job as a housekeeper.

What begins in Little Fires Everywhere as a gesture driven by seemingly noble intentions, however, ends up turning into a boomerang with unpredictable consequences, as the lives of the two families begin to intertwine in increasingly complex and disturbing ways. It's no coincidence that the series' opening starts precisely from the epilogue: the Richardson house in flames. From there, a backward narrative takes shape, which, episode after episode, reconstructs the events and tensions that led to that explosive conclusion.

Flames burning within

Showrunner Liz Tigelaar, a screenwriter and producer previously involved in series like Revenge and Bates Motel, stated that she was attracted to the project for the opportunity to investigate racial and class tensions hidden behind the facade of suburban perfection. Little Fires Everywhere is indeed based on the bestselling novel by Celeste Ng, also published in Italy by Bollati Boringhieri.

Together with director Lynn Shelton, who tragically passed away shortly after the finale aired, the creative team sought to expand the original material by introducing new subplots and delving deeper into themes that remained more nuanced in the book. Among the most significant choices is making Mia's racial identity explicit, transforming ethnic conflict into a central interpretive key for the dynamics that run through the eight episodes of this Hulu adaptation, distributed in Italy by Sky.

Comparisons with Big Little Lies are inevitable, not only for the narrative structure but also for the presence of Reese Witherspoon, once again in the role of a wealthy mother obsessed with controlling her public image. The actress delivers an intense and nervous performance here, capable of accentuating, episode after episode, that sense of alienating unease that leads to the events already announced by the opening. Counterbalancing her is a combative and tormented Kerry Washington, also a mother laden with secrets ready to explode in the increasingly frontal clash between two irreconcilable worldviews.

A world of mistakes

No character in Little Fires Everywhere is truly without flaws: yet another portrait of dysfunctional families that now seems to dominate contemporary narrative, both in literature and on screen. Despite the variety of themes and situations offered by the varied mosaic of characters, however, a feeling of déjà-vu emerges at times, accentuated by an ending that pushes the hand quite a bit just to reach a conclusion that, by that point, has already lost much of its revelatory power.

The numerous flashbacks dedicated to the past of the two protagonists try to dole out the plot twists appropriately, even if many revelations are either hinted at or easily predictable. The impression is that Little Fires Everywhere often prefers to play it safe, and just when it could push further, it pulls the handbrake, relying on easy solutions, if not downright gratuitous ones. Emblematic in this sense is the storyline of the Chinese child adopted by a white couple, with the biological mother ready to go to court to regain custody. More fuel is added to the fire, but the series paints brushstrokes that are at times too stark, risking even to trivialize what deserved greater sensitivity of views.