#i am also apprehensive that this means the new prescriptions i have are not gonna work

[bandofchimeras]

rec drug use mention

well it was stupid of me to imagine my body would tolerate literally any substance given track record w even weed n alcohol. thought k and molly would still be fine & they help my mental health sm, but wake up today ....w signs of cystitis from k???? so who knows what mollys doing in there.

at this point even super small amounts of p much anything are dangerous for me and that's it just how it is

[pass-the-bechdel]

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend season one full review

How many episodes pass the Bechdel test?

100% (eighteen of eighteen)

What is the average percentage per episode of female characters with names and lines?

44.4%

How many episodes have a cast that is at least 40% female?

Eleven, over half the season. Six of those are over 50%, and two of those are over 60%.

How many episodes have a cast that is less than 20% female?

Zero, unsurprisingly.

How many female characters (with names and lines) are there?

Thirty-seven. Ten who appeared in more than one episode, four who appeared in at least half the episodes, and two who appeared in every episode.

How many male characters (with names and lines) are there?

Forty-four. Twenty who appeared in more than one episode, four who appeared in at least half the episodes, and two who appeared in every episode.

Positive Content Status:

Mostly good, if a bit wonky; there were a lot of acknowledgments of real issues (particularly women’s issues), but sometimes it felt more like they were just shout-outs for the brownie points rather than genuine efforts to explore something meaningful. There were also a few problems with characters/relationships that the show never called out as wrong and therefore seemingly endorsed as normal, which makes it feel less self-aware than it appears to be at times (more on that under the cut). Altogether though, it’s never egregiously upsetting, and there is one subplot (ironically, one which has nothing to do with women) which was a true unexpected joy to behold (average rating of 3.05).

General Season Quality:

Fluctuates. It has a tone problem which can be confusing as it is unclear how information is intended to be interpreted, and the discomfort can seriously damage the comedy. When it is good though, it’s very fun, sometimes touching, and weirdly addictive. 

MORE INFO (and potential spoilers) under the cut:

I noted when I reviewed the very first episode that this is Not My Usual Flavour in terms of plot conceit, and if it weren’t for all the recommendations/requests I got to include the show on this blog, there’s about a 1% chance I would ever have watched this for my own amusement (that 1% comes from a very charming gifset of a scene which I presume is from the latest season; I’ll tell you what it was when we get there). One season in, I can say this much: I’m not mad y’all got me on to this. It’s weird and different, but it’s not painful (except, often, when Greg is around - we started on such good terms in the premiere but at this point I honestly loathe him). Against my better judgment and typical inclination, I am interested to see where it all ends up, working with the idea that as much as the driving force of the series from the outside appears to be romance, internally it’s really about these messy characters figuring themselves out and and changing their strange little mundane lives for the better. The first step on the road to improvement is self-awareness, on which subject...

...the main barrier I encountered in really getting into this show and relaxing to enjoy it is the issue of narrative trust, which is all about believing that the story is going to unravel and analyse its own content in a thorough, intelligent, and valuable way. Narrative trust is essential regardless of context; the same as you need it in order to sell the viewer on extravagant bizarro world-building for an intergalactic sci-fi story, you also need it in order to convince them that it’s worth exploring the comparatively small-fry and banal character motivations in a prescription rom-com. As a part of its initial conceit, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend promises to deconstruct its own deliberately-inflammatory title (it makes this promise at the beginning of every episode, in its annoying opening title sequence); Rebecca’s mental state and the journey it takes her on is the core of the narrative, and we are being asked to trust that the show will follow through on the unraveling and analysing of that content. For the most part, it does follow through, but it also intermittently falls short in two key arenas which lead to the damaged narrative trust: tonal consistency, and secondary character reinforcement.

When I was five episodes in, I discussed this show with a friend who had watched for a while (he wasn’t sure how far in he got, in the end) before eventually giving up; at that point, I wasn’t sure what to say about the show or even if I considered myself to be enjoying it, and my friend agreed that the problem I was having was the same problem that made him quit the show: tonal confusion. Part of that is about being unsure at times whether you’re being invited to laugh at Rebecca, or just at the situation; at times the show seems to make light of extremely serious emotional issues, and at others it is very sympathetic to Rebecca’s struggles; sometimes disturbing behaviour is not framed by the narrative as being worth calling out, and then sometimes, the chastisement Rebecca receives feels undeserved, over-the-top, or unfair to the wider context of her mental state. The inclusion of musical numbers can occasionally contribute to the tonal inconsistency in a big way, as some of the more shoe-horned in pieces come out of nowhere, do not revolve around topics of vital importance to the episode, or the style of the music itself can be un-ironically incongruous with the mood of the scene (and sometimes it’s just...a bad time to interrupt with a song). Basically, tonal inconsistency can nullify standard narrative conventions and the expectations we are trained to associate with them, because we can’t predict intention; is this cliche meaningful, or incidental? Are they going to acknowledge it at all, and if they don’t, is it deliberate, or an oversight? Are they going to subvert it, or play it straight? A consistent tone means that we can trust the narrative to handle content in a specific way, and in turn we can decide if that’s something we want to return for episode after episode, or not. This is also something that can significantly impact the perception of the show’s approach to social issues, as the spotty follow-up on acknowledged challenges for women can give the impression of paying lip service rather than actually delving in to the problem; you just don’t know if this is gonna be an episode that could be bothered to analyse its own content, or if it’s gonna brush it off; and if it does brush it off, is it because the creators don’t believe that issue is really important, or is exploring it just inconvenient to the story they’re telling right now? You just can’t trust the answer to be the same twice in a row, and consequently, the reaction to a new plot thread or subject is more likely to be apprehension at not knowing where this is headed, instead of engaged interest in going along for the ride to find out.

A big contributor to tonal inconsistency (and a victim of the same, in a feedback-loop kind of way) is secondary character reinforcement, by which I mean, the reinforcement of themes or behavioural standards for the protagonist as reflected by secondary characters. Paula is the character who most fully exemplifies this, as she encourages Rebecca’s worst impulses (including getting angry with her or ignoring her wishes when Rebecca tries to exercise self-restraint or break unhealthy patterns), she commits various criminal acts (some with Rebecca, but also some without Rebecca’s knowledge), and she invades the privacy of almost every character involved in the situation and even takes steps to manufacture their behaviour without their knowledge. Paula’s obsession with Rebecca’s love-life is often more terrifying and troublesome than Rebecca’s obsession with Josh, and while the show at times acknowledges that Paula is being outrageous, it pretty consistently fails to actually call out that behaviour or brand it as Bad News on the same level as anything Rebecca does - Paula’s behaviour is mostly put forward as overzealous but, eh, normal enough. The show holds Rebecca to a completely different standard of behaviour, and narratively punishes her for overstepping those bounds even as the character next to her leaps straight past the same barrier without a word. And Paula isn’t the only one - Greg is the other big sinner in terms of unchallenged poor behaviour, and his smug self-righteousness and tendency to be packaged as some kind of down-on-his-luck ‘complicated intellectual’ (as if that earns him special allowances for being a total prat) is what makes me so much more infuriated by his character (also, it’s a sexist double-standard to allow Greg more moral leeway for his ‘issues’, most of which are just self-generated prideful whinings). And then there are issues like Rebecca’s mother being let off the hook for intense life-long emotional abuse because she said she was just doing it to toughen Rebecca up, as if that makes severe psychological damage acceptable, or Valencia’s abusively controlling attitude with Josh, which I spent the entire season waiting to have explicitly denounced only to end up with her dumping him for not delivering the marriage proposal she had decided she deserved (something which the show kinda approached as reasonable, as if Josh ‘owed’ Valencia marriage after they’d been together for so long). When the show calls out some behaviour but is curiously mute on others, and when some characters are held to different standards to the rest, consistency takes a hit, and narrative trust runs a little short. If you’re left frustrated by hypocritical or contradictory attitudes and you can’t tell if some things are going uncontested for a reason or just out of ignorance, that’s not a good state to be in when you’re trying to also enjoy something. And in the context of this blog, the lack of narrative trust often led me to dismiss progressive-sounding lines or moments because I had no faith in the idea that the show meant what it said or was gonna follow through with relevant action.

As is often the case with complaints, the above probably sounds like a more dire flaw than it is in practice (I say probably; depends if they fix the issue or not, because if it persists across the series it could be crippling). The good news is, there was still plenty to like in season one, some good character development and emotional exploration that I hope is bolstered in the long-term as the show continues, and there was that one thing which really genuinely surprised and impressed me, which was Darryl’s bisexual coming-out. I figured the show would give us a token gay (and I’d picked White Josh as the one long before he was revealed to be so), but I did not expect that to be paired with the revelations of a second queer character, let alone that the journey of that character’s sexuality would be so low-key and wonderful. Darryl wades through some ugly internalised homophobia in order to make peace with himself, but that conflict doesn’t create drama; it creates hesitance. White Josh accepts no shit and protects himself from being hurt by Darryl’s discovery process, but he is also unfailingly understanding, highlighting the issues with Darryl’s thinking without getting personally offended or losing his temper, giving Darryl the tools to mend his problems on his own terms without ever revoking his support in the meantime. Because the subplot is so undramatic, it’s easy to overlook just how healthy it is, and it is able to dig in to a variety of real troubles that people may often encounter in actual life, but without painting those troubles as all-encompassing soul-destroying growing pains inevitably associated with coming out and/or living as a queer person in our society. We really need more of that in the world, more acknowledgment of the nuance that goes beyond garden-variety open bigotry, and especially more queer stories that are complicated without being depressing. The tact and attention to detail in Darryl and White Josh’s story is the single thing, above all others, which gives me hope for the future of Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. It may yet earn my trust.