Apple TV+’s Your Friends & Neighbours is a polished little firecracker: not quite a thriller, not quite a comedy, but full of strange, shiny edges. Think of it as a martini with something off about the aftertaste. Created by Banshee’s Jonathan Tropper and led by a wickedly suave Jon Hamm, it’s a series that works best when it isn’t trying too hard—which, luckily, it usually doesn’t.
Hamm plays Andrew “Coop” Cooper, a hedge funder recently fired under murky circumstances. He’s also fresh off a divorce, which feels less like a heartbreak and more like a lifestyle adjustment. Set in the ostentatiously pleasant Westmont Village, Coop spirals into a bizarre new hobby: breaking into the houses of his neighbors and stealing their things. As hobbies go, it’s pretty illegal—but this is Apple TV+, so it’s also moody, stylish, and maybe just a little too fun.
Coop's thefts aren’t for survival; they’re for curiosity, power, and occasionally petty revenge. What starts as a desperate man clawing for control quickly becomes a slow spiral into a suburban underworld laced with affairs, schemes, and double lives. And, crucially, Coop isn’t just discovering secrets—he’s collecting them like trophies.
The cast is sharp. Amanda Peet brings brittle vulnerability as Coop’s ex-wife Mel, who is not quite over him but very much over his self-pity. Olivia Munn plays Samantha “Sam” Levitt, a woman with more skeletons in her closet than Coop has stolen watches. Mark Tallman, Hoon Lee, Lena Hall, and others round out the neighborhood with a mix of suppressed rage and polished charm that matches the show’s carefully curated aesthetic.
Visually, Your Friends & Neighbours looks great—Apple TV+ always knows how to throw a lens flare. The architecture of Westmont Village itself is almost a character, with its sharp lines, big windows, and the subtle menace of “perfect people” doing very imperfect things behind closed doors. The camera often lingers in spaces a beat too long, giving a sense that everything here is a little too put-together, like a Jenga tower right before the fall.
What keeps the show moving isn’t high-stakes action or loud drama. It’s the whispery tension between characters. It’s in the stolen glances at dinner parties, the sound of Coop’s shoes echoing in empty hallways, the way a smile doesn’t quite reach someone’s eyes. There's an unspoken competition between neighbors—who’s hiding more, who’s winning at appearing normal.
The dialogue avoids melodrama and delivers dry wit when needed. Coop isn’t a hero, not even close, but Hamm makes him watchable. His charm feels lived-in, tired but functional. His crimes are reprehensible, but in a neighborhood where everyone’s lying anyway, it feels less like moral decay and more like ambient noise.
That said, the show does stumble at times. Some episodes wander like they’re unsure what kind of show they’re in. Is this a dark comedy about affluent emptiness? A character study of a man dismantling himself? A low-stakes suburban noir? The tone can shift unexpectedly, and not always gracefully. One episode leans into thriller territory with a tense home invasion, while the next slows to a crawl with marital therapy sessions and neighborhood book clubs.
There’s also a tendency to overexplain. The writing occasionally underestimates the audience, spelling out themes that were already clear from the way Coop watches his neighbors like they’re zoo animals. The best parts of the show are wordless—the break-ins, the slow reveal of someone’s secret life through a drawer left open, or a misplaced photograph. And while the ensemble is rich with potential, some side plots never find their footing. There’s a tech bro with a suspicious alibi, a teenage daughter with TikTok ambitions, and a yoga instructor with too many alibis—but not all of them get the depth they deserve. With nine episodes, not everything gets the breathing room it needs.
Still, the show succeeds more often than not because it never takes itself too seriously. It trusts that you’ll lean in, and it rewards your attention with subtle reveals and sharp character moments. Hamm leads with quiet magnetism, and the world around him is just absurd enough to keep you guessing.
In the later episodes, the show finds a stronger rhythm. Coop starts to feel less like a man falling apart and more like a man deciding which mask to wear next. The secrets he unearths aren’t always explosive, but the reactions they trigger are, and the series wisely lets those human fireworks play out without overdramatizing them.
By the end of the seventh episode, there’s a sense of symmetry: the thief has become more than just a man with a crowbar and a grudge. He’s part of the system now, tangled in it, shaping it. And that’s what makes Your Friends & Neighbours work—it isn’t just about crime or gossip or therapy sessions gone wrong. It’s about the quiet war of appearances, and how sometimes the most dangerous thing about a neighbor isn’t what they’ve done, but what they know.
If you’re looking for a high-octane drama, this isn’t it. But if you enjoy shows where the stakes are personal, the walls are thin, and the knives come out at dinner parties, this series delivers a sharp and stylish little puzzle of a watch. Not perfect, but compelling—and in Westmont Village, that might be the most you can ask for.
Final Score- [7/10]
Reviewed by - Anjali Sharma
Follow @AnjaliS54769166 on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times
Note: The first 7 episodes are screened for this review.
Premiere Date: April 11, 2025, on Apple TV+ with the first two episodes followed by a new episode every Friday.