First: Mrs. Fletcher is not, sadly, about a young Jessica Fletcher. Instead, it’s based on a Tom Perrotta novel about a single woman’s sexual reawakening after her son goes off to college. Personally, I think it’s a missed opportunity to cross those streams into The Erotic Adventures of J.B. Fletcher – the Murder, She Wrote, prequel we’ve always needed — because you know that delightful old busybody was a vixen in her youth who left a string of very different bodies in her wake.
Anyway, Casey Wilson plays the close friend of Kathryn Hahn’s Eve Fletcher. She looks quirky in this — I like to imagine she bought the entire ensemble from a vintage consignment store, and its previous owner most definitely had a lanai and liked to go out there and wash down her cheesecake with mimosas — but it’s a scrolldown for me. The jumpsuit trousers look like she had it standing up in her walk-in closet and it had started to sag under its own weight. They’re very weird wrinkles indeed. Perhaps J.B. Fletcher could solve that mystery in between investigating the naked body of a sheriff’s deputy.
