Stylish ‘Palm Royale’ arrives without a point

Featuring a game cast, fashions to die for and gorgeous locations, “Palm Royale” begins streaming on Apple TV+.

Manic actress and “SNL” veteran Kristen Wiig (“Bridesmaids”) stars as Maxine Simmons, a mystery woman trying to bluff her way into Palm Beach society in 1969. The period and location allow for colorful clothes, posh restaurants and great vintage cars. Maxine’s station in life is quickly revealed by her very used Plymouth Belvedere, a sore thumb among the idle rich ladies on the charity circuit whom she aspires to join.

Look for Allison Janney in a towering hairdo as Evelyn, the queen of Palm Beach and the leader of a cancer charity since time immemorial. When Maxine literally climbs the walls of the country club and tries to bluff her way into snobby conversations, Evelyn’s response could cut glass.

Not to give too much away, but the con woman in Maxine spots a weakness in Dinah (Leslie Bibb), another doyenne who also has her sights on Evelyn’s crown.

Wiig has always excelled at playing women of a certain type, consumed with a zealous confidence and just slightly touched by madness. At the same time, her exuberant characters are best appreciated in short bursts. And Maxine appears to be playing the long con. She’d be exhausting to watch even if she were a sympathetic character. But she’s not.

Maxine worms her way into the long-term care facility where oldschool society fixture Norma (Carol Burnett) has settled into a long coma. She thinks nothing of “borrowing” items from Norma’s closet and jewelry collection. Just because she preys on the wealthy doesn’t mean Maxine’s not a predator.

Maxine’s antics cross paths with Linda (Laura Dern), a strident parody of a feminist who runs a bookstore called “Our Bodies, Our Shelves.” This 1969 reference to a book not yet published is just one of a spate of anachronistic phrases shoehorned into the script. A character speaks of being “triggered.” Evelyn glibly evokes the phrase “kinder and gentler,” later popularized by candidate George H.W. Bush in 1988. The list goes on.

At its best, “Royale” resembles a candy-colored musical, closer to “How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying” than “Barbie.” But nobody ever breaks into song. And it’s never clear if any of the characters are worthy of our sympathy.

Perhaps the worst thing about “Royale” is its desperate effort to graft our current era’s obsessions with surface style, wealth and caste onto one of the few periods in history when ideas of equality and egalitarianism gained currency.

Set roughly at this same time, the recently completed “Feud: Capote vs. The Swans” depicts the collision of a brilliant writer and idle society types as a tragedy that left no party unscathed. Even the TV from this period had no use for the upper crust. Consider the punchline status of the millionaire and his wife on “Gilligan’s Island.”