Who among us, as the summer months and dreams of sun and cloudless skies begin and the visions of holidays and freedom take on solid form, does not think: where oh where is my hate-watch of the season?
Well, fear not, mes chéris – the wait is over! Billion Dollar Playground has arrived and it is a feast for all. Imagine that The White Lotus’s characters were real, but worse, and that none of them – increasingly unbelievably – ended up murdered. One reprobate complains that the bath towels in their luxury beachfront rental in Sydney are “too smooth”. Another derides the chef for putting smoked salmon in her caviar and asks: “Is that the same truffle as yesterday? Then definitely not.” Mo’ canapes, mo’ problems.
That has got your glands juicing, hasn’t it? Feel that vitriol start to pump! Remember what it feels like to be truly alive! And I have barely started. Because, unlike at The White Lotus, below stairs isn’t much better.
But I am getting ahead of myself. Let’s start at the beginning. Alex and Tom are an Australian husband-and-wife team who own Luxico, a company that manages A$1bn-worth (£480m-worth) of wildly opulent properties for wildly rich people who rent them out to other wildly rich people while, presumably, the owners are staying at one of their other wildly opulent properties. We do not warm to Alex and Tom (“Pressure makes diamonds – and rich people love diamonds!” he says of the efforts his minions must make to serve the wealthy guests), but they are not around enough to hate, so save your energy. We have much to be getting on with.
The team whose job it is to prepare the house before a group of self-made millionaires arrive for a girls’ weekend is headed by the chief concierge, Salvatore. He can spot a misaligned chair or a rucked rug at 50 paces and needs everyone to follow orders – and a minutely detailed timetable – at all times so the endeavour doesn’t collapse into a heap of dust and rouse the ire of the vile, whining people (“I thought the beach was private?”) they are gathered to serve.
Unfortunately, one of his team members is Heaven. She loves to be around money and doesn’t see why she should be “disrespected” by being required to follow instructions. She sets up great events for the guests – such as getting them exclusive access to the amusement park Luna Park, so it can serve as the backdrop to dessert for their first meal – but doesn’t follow through on details, such as bringing crockery and cutlery. Everyone else must abandon their jobs to save the guests’ night (and Heaven’s backside).
Of course, she is endlessly grateful for this. Just kidding. She takes responsibility for nothing and is a piece of work. Her life plan seems to involve finding a sugar daddy then “being able to afford Salvatore” herself. Smashing.
Elsie is the housekeeper. She has a robust attitude to the job. When confronted with the problem of four bottles of Dom Pérignon missing from a guest’s luggage, she suggests serving whatever the house already holds. “They won’t be able to tell the fucking difference.” We warm to Elsie.
Jay is the maintenance man and driver. He is all teeth and abs. He has a second job as a cover model for spicy romance novels. No, really. He enjoys his life.
Matt and George are handsome brothers and chefs. They enjoy their lives, too, and are sanguine about being wheeled out to distract guests with their hotness any time disaster looms. Especially Matt.
Nicole is a trainee concierge, keen to do well, but, one suspects, on a collision course to either Jay’s or Matt’s bed – she just has to decide whether she wants a blinding grin or a nice meal afterwards.
Jasmine is the new deputy concierge, rapidly promoted to chief when Salvatore – goaded by Heaven’s inability to understand that she is not the centre of the universe – leaves abruptly. This makes him almost as bad as Heaven in my book, but no one is listening to me.
JB is the butler. He fancied being the chief concierge himself. By the end of the first two episodes, he is showing signs of being a Gallic Machiavelli. He is also the chief cocktail supplier and a backup hottie to the chefs.
The guests? I have spent enough time and words on them already. I wish them nothing but repeat truffles, smooth towels, salmony caviar and painful ends.
In short, it’s a winner. Your new escapist watch is here. Next week, it’s tech bros. Enjoy.