In race, TV on July 6, 2015 at 6:51 pm
The most moving story about faith you’re likely to see on a television series this year starts with a kosher meal and ends with a small-scale prison break. At the center of it all is Orange Is the New Black’s irreverent Cindy Hayes (aka “Black Cindy”), who would seem to be an unlikely candidate for finding religion. What kind of spiritual seeker announces her decision to convert by shouting “Where my dreidel at” in the middle of a cafeteria?
Well: a wonderful new Jew, is who.
Cindy’s surprisingly joyful journey to Judaism stood out in a series that has featured many other stories about how people use religion to justify oppression, exclusion and manipulation. This season, the Netflix series skewers a flower-child cult that swindles naïve believers and a present-day prison sect that appears harmless but winds up forcing an already-depressed inmate into further isolation. Traditional religions also come under scrutiny. In a flashback, one woman’s father forbids her from running track to get a college scholarship, calling her uniform indecent by the standards of the Nation of Islam. A Christian father threatens his young daughter with the prospect of eternal damnation for sneaking a taste of mashed potatoes during grace. In all of these cases, belief itself isn’t the problem. The danger lies in people who want to wield it as a weapon.
In the midst of these darker tales, Cindy stumbles into a spiritual awakening. And the very qualities that would seem to make her resistant to faith—her deep-rooted skepticism, her refusal to take anything seriously—turn out to make her feel right at home with Judaism.
In books, feminism, gender, girl culture, How to be Awesome Like, YA on June 11, 2015 at 7:17 pm
One of my favorite things about being an adult is rediscovering beloved books and characters from childhood. Now in my 30s, as I’ve read back through some of my favorite YA books I’ve noticed a penchant for a particular sort of female character: girls and women who were not content to work within the confines society (or men) laid out for them, or girls and women who made a difference to the outcome of the story, not just as the arm candy of some dude, but who saved the day themselves, or were necessary components in the shaping or reshaping of the world they inhabited.
This leads me to Dealing with Dragons, the first of Patricia C. Wrede’s Enchanted Forest Chronicles. The kid inside me almost bursts with excitement to introduce you to Cimorene.
Cimorene is a princess, and though she grows up surrounded by all the typical fairytale commodities – a prosperous kingdom, attentive parents, golden-haired sisters, etiquette lessons, a handsome prospective suitor – we know by the end of page one that she hates the whole deal. As her adventures progress and she interacts with talking animals, dubious magic, wizards, a feisty but pragmatic witch, and of course, the titular dragons, a number of qualities stand out about Cimorene that make her unabashedly awesome.
Note: many of these qualities are developed considerably as the book progresses, but a number of them are apparent even within the first chapter or two. I’ve tried to restrict my examples to just these first few chapters to avoid too many spoilers, so you can go out and read this immediately and not have any of the delightful surprises ruined. So, that settled, here’s how to be awesome like Cimorene:
In Netflix, race, TV, Uncategorized, violence on April 20, 2015 at 5:00 am
For me, Kimmy Schmidt came out of the bunker as an incongruous maelstrom—a pickle juice cocktail, fuschia and lime confetti, hail on a sunny day. I was excited for Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, show creator Tina Fey’s “television” follow-up to 30 Rock, and it almost immediately presented a combination of the expected and the surprising, the standard and the bizarre.
Ellie Kemper as Kimmy brings an oddball charm to a rather complicated role. Kimmy takes up life in New York City after being rescued from a bunker in which she was held captive for 15 years. She and the other “Indiana Mole Women” were kidnapped and held by a deranged preacher who told them the apocalypse had happened and they were the only people left on earth. So Fey set herself a challenging task: create a comedy about kidnapping, rape, trauma, and the will to survive. Fortunately, Kemper is all in, playing Kimmy as an uncomfortable-but-funny combination of plucky, outdated, dopey, and indomitable.
Kimmy surrounds herself with a motley crew—Jacqueline (Jane Krakowski), an aging, trophy wife who hires Kimmy as a nanny, personal assistant, and general underling; Lillian (the incomparable Carol Kane as), a Jewish, New York hippy who owns Kimmy’s apartment building; and Titus Andromedon (Tituss Burgess), Kimmy’s roommate, an impoverished, down-on-his-luck actor (is there any other kind?). All of these characters are stereotypes but with enough twists or charm or combinations thereof to make it work. Titus works the black GBF for all it’s worth and Lillian is a genuine kick in the pants. Jacqueline is a Native American passing for white in order to sustain the materialism she always idolized, an interesting twist on “demanding, clueless, rich white woman”—a character Krakowski has made a career out of playing. These characters aren’t going to change narrative television but they are played and written with enough aplomb to carry them through, particularly as offsets to Kimmy’s quirk.