Since the fairytale royal wedding of 2018, millions of words have been racked up about Meghan Markle, many of them unpleasant. But there’s one descriptor that’s rarely aimed at the former Suits star: boring. Clearly, her marriage to Prince Harry and the ripple effect it had on the British monarchy was anything but, yet Meghan was no wallflower before she became one of the most famous women in the world either. She was a mainstay on a hit TV show for seven years, with a bevy of famous friends and a loud activist voice around gender equality. If there was one thing Meghan Markle categorically was not, it was boring.
Yet with the arrival of her new Netflix lifestyle series, With Love, Meghan, the former actor has never appeared so one-dimensional and, frankly, dull. Of course, there’s always been a more low-key side to Meghan too as the woman who loves nothing more than hiking and baking and showing earnest gratitude to the world around her. This sentiment was obvious on The Tig, the since-shuttered lifestyle blog she ran before marrying Harry and a clear reference point for With Love, Meghan. But even on what was her homey little corner of the internet, all facets of Meghan were on display, with city guides and party tips nestled in comfortably alongside musings on her identity as a biracial woman.
Today, at least on her Netflix show, Meghan has picked a side to focus on: that of the sincere, smiling hostess, showing us how we, too, can make our guests’ lives as stress-free as possible. After years of negative attention, it makes sense that she would want a rebrand, and the show serves as a fitting accompaniment to her latest business venture, As Ever (previously American Riviera Orchard). But the character quickly wears thin, because we know that Meghan has so much more to give. Even if it is just in the public eye, it’s hard to imagine that a woman this opinionated would find satisfaction in a life lived with the edges so severely sanded down.
Meghan might be the project’s instantly recognizable selling point, but the show itself is strangely indistinctive. Color graded in Netflix’s trademark palette of hyper-saturatedbrights and washed-out whites, it slots right in among the streamer’s interchangeable, aspirational programming. Montages show sweeping shots of perfectly packed pantries, smooth white wood and so, so much rattan. The vision is Architectural Digest home tour by way of Selling Sunset, yet it’s all rendered meaningless when Meghan casually mentions in the first five minutes that they are not actually in her house in Montecito right now.
Now, nobody is forcing Meghan to let the world, let alone an 80-person camera crew, into her private space. But given the show’s central message about the joys of treating home guests like royalty, this caveat places a layer of frosted glass between the talent and viewer. Suddenly, this secondary footage feels pointless. To glean anything about her life, or even her taste, from these details would be impossible. It is simply just some house.
To the Duchess Of Sussex, “the joy of hostessing” is not just a fun subject for the show but a driving force. The viewer is meant to take inspiration from Meghan. Expertly curated, the recipes and crafts on display are not so simple that any lurking haters could accuse her of patronizing her audience, but they’re not so complex or cost-intensive that she could be branded out of touch. And yes, the appliances in Meghan’s dummy home are clearly being given their first outing on camera, but if there’s one thing the show does sell you on, it’s that Meghan does this stuff all the time. You can feel it in the care with which she arranges produce in a harvest basket and fills jars of bath salts for a guest bathroom, writing every label in her swooping, font-worthy cursive. A level of effort is displayed that nobody could be peer pressured into performing. To show such perfectionism, you have to really, really care.
Meghan’s dedication is undeniable; the problem is that it’s fundamentally not that interesting. One of the more unintentionally intriguing (if uncomfortable) aspects of the show is the dichotomy between Meghan’s insistence that she is a normal person just like us and the guests who cannot treat her as such. Her longtime pals, like make-up artist Daniel Martin and skincare mogul Victoria Tsai, as well as her production crew (who appear in repeated fourth-wall breaking segments) have got a hold of it. This is their extremely famous friend or their boss. Yet in her presence, other less-seasoned Meghan acquaintances threaten to malfunction.
One of the most toe-curling exchanges comes from Mindy Kaling, an “email pen-pal” of Meghan’s who is invited around to proxy Chez Sussex to practice hosting a kids’ party. In her presence, The Office star acts like an awestruck competition winner. It’s a shtick, but you can sense the unease when Mindy kind of jokes that receiving a jar of Meghan’s jam last year—the exclusive gifting of which was serious news—was “probably one of the most glamorous moments of my life.” In other scenes, she refers to Meghan in the third person by both her first and last name.
When guests resist this excitable reverence, the show and its host feel much more comfortable. Take chef Roy Choi, who is meeting Meghan for the first time on camera. Not unlike Mindy, he appears dazed that Meghan knows his name. “How do I even register on your GPS?” Roy asks, incredulous. Meghan, in turn, laughs in an oh-silly-stop-it kind of way. “Are you joking? We’re just two kids from L.A.!” Meghan’s response actually gives the episode its title, despite the palpable sense that Roy doesn’t immediately believe her words. In this moment, her desire for connection, shown at every step of the series, is felt most keenly. No matter who she’s talking to, Meghan is a consummate “yes and”-er. The air around her is peppered with meaningful conversation starters, cheesy jokes, and words of constant encouragement: “I love it”s and “mmm”s and “so good”s.
But actually, as Meghan puts down the flower arrangements and balloon garlands and is led by Roy into the world of Korean cooking that is relatively unknown to her, she begins to light up. The pair make watermelon kimchi and hot sauce together, with Meghan’s love of all things spice reiterated throughout the show. Roy even politely schools the royal on the history of anti-MSG propaganda in the process. No longer the one in the driving seat, Meghan shows a vulnerability that is endearing to both her acquaintance and the viewer. “You and I are so similar. We should have met a long time ago,” he later tells her, and Meghan glows with pride like she is being seen properly for the first time.
Elsewhere, moments of vulnerability or any dip below the surface are unfortunately few and far between. Like Netflix’s standardized color palette, With Love, Meghan leaves little room for shade. Nobody is expecting major conflict from this show, to the point where even a light raising of the voice would be pushing it. But there is a total unwillingness to engage with even the softest levels of anxiety, or admit that Meghan could even experience such feelings beyond passing allusions to the hectic nature of parenting. The public has seen the Oprah Winfrey interview. We know that Meghan feels deeply. But she decides not to show it here.
The series culminates in Meghan planning a brunch garden party for her loved ones to celebrate the launch of As Ever. It’s the big season finale set piece (and Harry’s only brief appearance on camera), so everything has to be perfect. While she’s running around prepping the dishes and decorations, a crew member asks Meghan off camera if she feels nervous about people showing up early. “It shouldn’t be nerve-racking,” she replies, enduringly peppy. “If I felt I was pressed for time, whoever shows up first is gonna help me!”
A positive outlook on life is undeniably necessary when you’ve received the negative attention Meghan has. So who could blame her for wanting to live in a bubble of optimism? But With Love, Meghan also hints that the royal cannot dwell on any fleeting moment of negativity, lest she be hounded and called spoiled. This is where Meghan’s edges have gone: sanded down for her own survival. You can be cynical or believe the smiles, but that doesn’t mean you should be compelled to stick around and watch.