By Katie Sterling
Rarely do I quit a TV show after just one episode, but I fear I have lost brain cells I shall never recover.
Calabasas Confidential, a new reality show from Netflix, follows a group of college graduates as they return to their hometown and the “unfinished drama” of their once tight-knit high school group.
Frankly, Calabasas Confidential is everything I hate about Calabasas. As someone who grew up in that city, it’s become a conclave of entitled youth that are as vapid as they are pretentious. The characters of this new show, and they are characters that have seemingly sprung from their TikTok algorithms, use the elitism of the city they live in to act as if they are untouchable. The drama is engineered at best, the conversation monosyllabic and the interactions as cringe-worthy as paying $24 for Hailey Bieber’s Strawberry Glaze Skin Smoothie.
Many will say the city of Calabasas found its fame thanks to a certain kin that still resides in the foothills of the Santa Monica Mountains. Since that popularity, producers have been attempting to chase that reality show high and well, Calabasas Confidential will never deliver. With a “cast” of around 14 Gen Z youth, every interaction seems fake, forced or as “complicated” as one of the girls debating whether she should make money on Feet Finder.
If they’re not attempting to break out as the next best influencer, they are riding on the coattails of their famous parents. One girl is so concerned that people will only want to be friends with her to gain proximity to her father’s fame, she argues that her wall is always up. With all due, your father is Bret Michaels and if you think youth of today will recognize, let alone fan-girl, over an 80’s rock band lead you’re seriously misjudging their cultural knowledge. Poison to this group is probably full-fat milk in their La La Land latte.
At eight episodes all just under an hour, I can’t even fathom how they filled that time with any storylines worth watching. You want a truly bingeable Calabasas show? Dump these kids in a “Leonis Adobe” lifestyle where they have to abandon all technology (the horror!), get their hands dirty tending to the farm and learn to live with a less-is-more mentality. After all, if you’re going to claim this city as your identity, at least understand its roots.
Calabasas Confidential is now streaming on Netflix (but in all honestly, just take a stroll through the Commons and you’ll get the idea).
