Wednesday, May 20, 2020

Shrill (2019-Present)


Another great Hulu original sitcom. While the show is very different from Ramy, they do in a way occupy similar brain spaces, so watching one shortly after the other made for a nice pairing.

Annie Easton, an aspiring journalist presently cutting her teeth on the calendar of a local Portland publication, has a come-to-Jesus moment with herself when she finds herself pregnant by a fuckbuddy who makes her sneak out the back when his roommates are home. She realizes how much she’s been putting up with and settling for – personally, romantically, and professionally – and she realizes that she doesn’t need to take it anymore. The steps she takes to change her life don’t happen in a straight line, and they come with many false starts along the way, but she keeps working toward the goals of loving/valuing herself and expecting others to do the same.

I’ve been fortunate that I’ve never had to deal with the stigma that Annie experiences around her weight – I know that fat-shaming is its own animal, and the unsolicited comments Annie receives from everyone (ranging from complete strangers to her mother) are abjectly horrible. But I do what it’s like to be insecure and make judgments about my value based on metrics that shouldn’t be involved in that question. I also know what it’s like to make pledges to oneself, vowing to be better and struggling to stay accountable in that effort. Annie’s journey is as compelling as it is relatable, even if hers is a lot wilder than mine.

Inspired by real events, the show strikes an excellent balance between moments of outrageous comedy and moments that are impeccably real (both achingly and ecstatically so, in turns.) As with Ramy, the main character forms the highly-watchable center of the show for me. SNL’s Aidy Bryant is so fantastic as Annie and I immediately love her, even in the scenes when she gets lost in self-absorption or goes down a path of self-sabotage.

Plus, she’s surrounded by a great cast of colorful characters. My favorites include her roommate Fran, her “work husband” Amadi, and her boss Gabe (played by John Cameron Mitchell of Hedwig and the Angry Inch!) Pretty much everyone manages to be a “type” as well as a person, and I appreciate the casual inclusion on display at multiple levels. (I love a moment late in season 1 when Ruthie, the low-key bitchy assistant at the paper, is denied something and daringly asks, “Is it because I’m trans?” I love it because 1) before that moment, I had no idea that the character was trans and 2) it was a simple character-based one-liner that didn’t lead to a speck of gender-identity angst.) Even a character like Ryan, Annie’s fuckbuddy, is terrible but done so well/weirdly that I still enjoy scenes with him despite frequently wanting to punch him.

Warnings

Language, sexual content, moments of violence, drinking/smoking/drug use, and thematic elements.

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