Review of the fourth season of Only Murders in the Building – by far the funniest thing on TV | TV & Radio

OOn paper, Only Murders in the Building is everything that's wrong with contemporary TV comedy. Rather than engaging in the risky business of outright comedy, the streaming age prefers to play it safe when it comes to the art form, placing more emphasis on high-flown plots, emotional sincerity, and big names generating hype than genuine laughs. Not only is Only Murders overly star-studded—Steve Martin, Martin Short, and Selena Gomez lead the cast as a trio of true-crime podcasters (Martin is also the show's co-creator), while guests include Meryl Streep, Nathan Lane, and Tina Fey—it also presents a novel blend of media satire, thrillingly twisted crime, and sensitive exploration of loss and loneliness. In other words, there's a lot going on here that could make up for a script that can't quite deliver on the comedic quality.

And yet—unexpected twist!—Only Murders in the Building is hilarious. In fact, it's the funniest thing on TV right now (or, rather, drip-feeding on any streaming platform right now). If you like comedy of any kind, you'll enjoy—and maybe even love—this show.

To make sense of it, though, you have to start at the beginning: Despite starring two septuagenarians, this isn't an old-school sitcom that you just pop in to now and then. In fact, after three seasons, Only Murders' universe is so densely populated and its plot so labyrinthine that a brief summary is nearly impossible. So here's the gist. In season one, three neighbors and true-crime fans—washed-up TV actor Charles (an uptight and self-centeredly frustrated Martin), washed-up theater director Oliver (Short, giving it his all as a sweaty, flamboyant show-off), and never-quick-burning millennial Mabel (a deadpan Gomez in one of the most compelling and strange performances on TV)—started a podcast about a suspicious death in their fancy apartment complex. Their investigation involved Sting, the owner of a Greek deli, and Charles' new girlfriend Jan, a bassoonist. Season two involved the murder of Bunny, the building's CEO, while in season three their victim was Ben Glenroy (Paul Rudd), the repulsive star of Oliver's unintentionally funny Broadway flop “Death Rattle.”

This brings us to season four (the fourth in four years, which proves that Is possible to produce new seasons of great TV series every year). We already know which building murder is the focus this time: At the end of the third season, Sazz Pataki (Jane Lynch), the phlegmatic long-time stunt double of the former TV detective Charles, was shot through an apartment window. But before the trio gets involved in another investigation – supported by a cadaver dog named Gravey (not Gravy) – Hollywood calls.

Only Murders is at its most delicious when it's satirizing showbiz, which it does in a pleasantly insider-y but not alienating way. This time, the film industry proves to be a rich vein, as our trio visit Paramount Studios, which is rushing to finish a film of its hit podcast. The whole trip is a comedic feast, especially meeting wacky producer Bev Melon (Molly Shannon), who explains her desperate thirst for the threesome's life rights with the immortal line, “When I see a hot piece of adaptable intellectual property surrounded by a bunch of horny rival studios, I go all in and I'm always the first to finish.” This very 2024 bit of dialogue is soon joined by some vintage slapstick from Martin, as Charles tries to hard-sell a fee but can't quite get his piece of paper across the oversized conference table (the show itself is a symphony of different eras of humor; all have the ability to elicit hearty laughter). Soon, the trio are facing their new alter egos: Zach Galifianakis is set to play Oliver, Eugene Levy is Charles, and Eva Longoria (a comic revelation) is Mabel.

What happens next is: a lot, most of which is embargoed (although “Only Murders” is a highly watchable series of cliffhangers, it's being released weekly). As in previous seasons, we're introduced to a whole new universe of characters, including the shady residents of the building's west tower, but eventually it becomes clear that solving Sazz's murder means wading through the pile of loose ends that the titular podcast – and the TV show itself – have left hanging since the first season.

This kind of clever, long-term plot means that Only Murders is genuinely compelling as a crime thriller. It's not a perfect show – the dynamic between the central threesome still feels underdeveloped, and while Charles' guilt over the sacrifices Sazz made for him is moving, it's also over the top – but it's close: This show remains an extremely rare example of a comedy-drama that does both equally, and incredibly well.