One of TV’s most reliable food groups is the light mystery set in a sumptuous locale populated by eccentric townspeople. The Italian series “Màkari” (in Italian, with subtitles) is a hearty serving, with plenty of Sicilian vistas and pastas to go around. Season 1 is available on Amazon, MHz Choice and the Roku Channel; Season 2 and the recently released Season 3 are on only MHz Choice.
Our hero here is Saverio (Claudio Gioè), a former government employee who slinks from Rome back to Sicily, where he hopes to find enough inspiration to write his novel. Boy, does he! Mishaps and misdeeds abound, as does town gossip. Murder, he wrote, as people divulge all kinds of secrets. They occasionally balk at Saverio’s interview requests only to be won over by his earnest curiosity — or by his persuasive flattery. A character in a novel based on little old me? Well, now that you mention it. …
The show is based on a series of books by Gaetano Savatteri and comes from some of the same writers as “Detective Montalbano,” which is also set in Sicily and has a similar aesthetic. Technically, Saverio is not a detective and thus does not have a partner. Practically, he totally is, and his partner is the excitable Peppe Piccionello (Domenico Centamore), who ropes him into schemes and side gigs and frequently offers philosophical musings and sauce-making guidance. Saverio also immediately strikes up a romance with a local waitress (Ester Pantano), though his reputation as a womanizer precedes him.
“Màkari” is not quite as snappy as the Caribbean-set British procedural “Death in Paradise,” but it follows in that show’s sandy footsteps. As in “Paradise,” it’s best for both the show and the viewer not to dwell too much on the loss of human life but instead to revel in those gem-blue waters and clever deductions. “Màkari” has all the requisite real estate porn and some jazzy cars, too; every rock is sun-dappled, every table set with stylish yet unfussy serving ware. Let’s brainstorm theories of the crime while bobbing romantically in the ocean, why don’t we.
There’s a languid ease to everything here, a comfy absence of real tension, and even the pace of the installments is relaxed. Although there are only four per season, each is just under two hours long, which can feel leisurely, a way to unlearn one’s internal “Law & Order” clock of when suspects should be confessing.
Margaret Lyons is a television critic at The Times, and writes the TV parts of the Watching newsletter.
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