‘Where’s Wanda?’ Is a Charming German Dramedy

The Apple TV+ series “Where’s Wanda?” (in German, with subtitles, or dubbed) is another “suburbanites find themselves by committing mild crimes” dramedy, where the comfortably domestic are suddenly in close contact with the Bad Guys and discovering a bit about themselves along the way.

But “Wanda” is set atilt because Carlotta (Heike Makatsch) and Dedo (Axel Stein) aren’t trying to make bank in the drug trade or expose white-collar crime. They’re searching for their missing teenage daughter, Wanda (Lea Drinda), and if they have to surveil every house in the neighborhood to achieve what the police can’t, they’ll do it.

“Wanda” nails this tonal balance, braiding fish-out-of-water criminal ineptitude and the sexy warmth of a marital adventure with anguish and helplessness. This is not another miserable, high-end missing child drama set among the weepy wealthy. It’s a colorful, quirky caper.

Carlotta and Dedo convince themselves they have 100 days to find their daughter, which sets the timer ticking. Their investigative skills are minimal, and the strategies they come up with don’t seem particularly effective — but that’s sort of the point. Of course they have no idea what they’re doing, and of course in a moment of crisis one’s creative problem-solving strategies would suffer. They think Wanda has to be nearby, in someone’s house, and with the eventual help of their son, Ole (Leo Simon), they wind up putting spy cams in their neighbors’ houses, hoping to hear or see something helpful.

What they discover is mostly that their neighbors are all odd ducks, which they sort of knew already. Carlotta and Dedo fixate on other couples’ squabbles and compatibility, caving to the allure of voyeurism and jealousy. Even worse, everyone seems to be conducting business as usual — they just get to live their regular lives while Wanda’s family is turned inside out.

Part of what keeps the show from being droopy and gloomy is its overt stylishness. Every dang top is textured and sculptural, each house an angular dream. Funky glass jugs and enviable art chairs fill each room, and everyone drives distinctive retro cars. Insular small towns are often murder bogs on European shows, but the citizens of Sundersheim are mostly the goofy kind of weirdos.

There are eight episodes, all made available to critics in advance, and as with many contemporary mystery series, it could probably stand to be six. So far two are streaming, and new episodes arrive on Wednesdays.