Lifestyles of the rich and miserable in America

There are three broad spirits in which American television portrays the rich: aspiration, judgment and reassurance.

- Ross Douthat

The aspirational spirit makes you want to have what they have, the judgmental spirit condemns them for what they've done to get what they have, and the reassuring spirit tells you that you don't want what they have anyway.

Often, these spirits coexist in the same portrayal. Even exercises in what seems like pure aspiration — a reality TV real estate show, say — can feel like a rough draft for an eat-the-rich jeremiad, while even stories that are intent on portraying rich people in a critical light find it hard to escape from some sort of aspirational identification. Imagining oneself hanging out in the resorts on The White Lotus is part of the show's appeal, even when you're officially glad you aren't one of the characters. And a show like Succession, in which the Murdoch-esque family was not just flawed but also malign and aggressively miserable, still stirred a certain kind of envy in the frictionless way its billionaires moved from yachts to palazzos to alpine and tropical retreats.

So the most interesting thing about Your Friends & Neighbors, a new Apple TV show in which Jon Hamm plays a New York City moneyman who starts thieving from his gilded neighbours to keep up appearances after he loses his high-paying job, is that it manages to eliminate almost any sense of aspirational identification from its portrait of leafy Connecticut hyperaffluence.