Perhaps you hate to admit that you’ve joined the world in its new obsession, cleverly coined “bw,” binge watching. I will admit to my #bwaddiction to quality TV viewing and the added bonus of watching these provocative documentaries, taunt thrillers and smart comedies, at my convenience, on my choice of devices.
My newest find is “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt,” the original Netflix comedy from “30 Rock” producers Tina Fey and Robert Carlock. Rejoice because there are 13 episodes to enjoy about a determined woman (Ellie Kemper) who escapes a cult.
This is platinum comedy. The chyron over the news report when the women are found, for example, reads “BREAKING NEWS: WHITE WOMEN FOUND” and then, in smaller text underneath, “Hispanic woman also found.”
The one-line zingers are packed with such keen observations, so truthful, that if they weren’t safely wrapped in mirth could cause a revolution. The pilot opens with a neighbor, Walter Bankson, giving his spin on the surprising events. At 1 minute and 49 seconds into this first episode, he utters the line that sets the tone (and the catchy theme song) with “White dudes hold the record for freaky crimes, but females are strong as hell … unbreakable. They’re alive dam-nit!”
Walter’s explanation goes viral, and the world wants to know the story of the “mole women,” by Kimmy Schmidt, who decides to move to New York to reboot her life after being rescued from the doomsday cult.
Brought to life by Kemper (“The Office”), the Netflix series gets a billion times better. Kimmy’s doe-eyed innocence and crash course into contemporary culture, coupled with the high-concept premise makes this—cliche forthcoming—an instant comedy classic.
Her escape from the cult and its isolation gives depth to the zany world in which the series exists and lets the clever writers build on identifiable conflicts that are much weightier than the “problems” typically faced by sitcom characters.
Conflict is living in New York City and finding affordable housing, and that’s solvable once she becomes the roommate of a struggling actor named Titus, played by Tituss Burgess, who “30 Rock” fans will remember as the breakout star D’Fwan in “Queen of Jordan.” The real-life actor Titus and the character share the same name (minus an “s”).
Burgess makes the character Titus into something brand new. On the surface he is a swishing cliche, the sassy and theatrical Black gay man with a booming, Broadway voice, but that’s on the flat computer screen and nothing like what explodes with joie de vivre from the thespian’s gifted instrument.
Titus’ tendency for melodrama is the perfect foil for Kimmy’s plucky perseverance. The third funniest character is Lillian, their wacky landlady and building owner, played with joyful abandonment by Carol Kane. Sure she is “morally questionable,” but Lillian admits to shooting her “Black” husband in the dark, offering this as an explanation to a shocked Titus: “It was dark out and a Black guy was trying to get in bed with me. It was the ’70s!”
The best advice on binge watching is to follow episode-by-episode. No spoilers, but I will share a few tidbits of writing that rattled my funny bone.
• Kimmy’s pronunciation of “Beyonce.”
• Donna Maria Nunez, when Matt Lauer asks her why she didn’t learn any English in 15 years: “These bitches don’t learn any Spanish, so…”
• Reverend Richard’s full title: “Reverend Richard Wayne Gary Wayne, senior prophet and CFO of Savior Rick’s Spooky Church of the Scary-Pocalypse.”
• The name of the recurring character Dong Nguyen (Ki Hong Lee), a student in Kimmy’s GED class.