After waiting up all night for Netflix’s new original series, Orange Is The New Black, to launch, I sleepily pressed the big red play button, not entirely sure what I was about to get myself into. I’ve always had faith in Netflix’s programming as I religiously and bingefully watched House of Cards, Netflix’s first original series. Adding on to that faith, Jenji Kohan, the show’s creator, is my homegirl as her previous show Weeds still remains in my top three favorite television shows like ever.
What I got myself into was lockdown at Litchfield Prison. I was completely hooked; trapped by the menagerie of female characters ranging from a Russian drug mule to a frizzy-haired junkie to a crazy-eyed eccentric to a compassionate, yet ruthless roommate who isn’t afraid to choke you out.
The story begins as Piper Chapman (Taylor Schilling from The Lucky One), an adventurous yuppie engaged to a timid yuppie (Jason Biggs from American Pie), turns herself in for a crime she committed with her ex-girlfriend, Alex Vause (Laura Prepon from That 70’s Show). As she enters the terrifying world of female prison, she runs into a couple of mishaps and, surprise, said ex-girlfriend, but the gut of the story doesn’t rest in Piper’s troubles. It lies in the supporting cast and their backstories that are told through a series of flashbacks. Don’t get me wrong; Piper’s story entertains, but it doesn’t capture any real grit.
Orange Is The New Black encapsulates womanhood differently and beautifully, taking plenty of time to develop each character. The diverse cast of actresses does a stunning job of portraying depth and rawness to create complex human beings. Kohan delivers honest, intricate stories that threaten to hold your attention until you’ve watched all 13 episodes in one sitting.
In comparison to Weeds, Orange is the epitome of a dramedy: dark, ironic comedy with a boatload of drama, misery, tears and self-realizations. From the prison guards to the counselors and especially the inmates, epiphanies are had, deals are made, lives are lost and debts are paid. All with biting satire and the occasional comedic relief, making the show breathable.
I’d like to give a round of applause to the performances that made the show utterly addictive: Michelle Hurst who plays the stony-faced Miss Claudette with the most heart-wrenching backstory of all, Natasha Lyonne from American Pie who plays Nicky, a great friend with great one-liners, Danielle Brooks who plays the hilarious Taystee with flawless comedic time and Taryn Manning from Hustle and Flow who plays Tiffany A.KA. Pennslytucky, a raging Jesus freak with a dangerous agenda.
But the greatest round of applause goes to Laverne Cox who played Sophia. A transgendered character actually played by a transgendered woman! And she killed it! As transgendered individuals are rarely explored or featured on television shows, Orange finally gives a glimpse on an overlooked minority. It’s phenomenally done and about damn time. Along with the transgender storyline, lesbianism makes up a lot of the plot, touching on all sorts of lesbian characters instead of relying on stereotypes like most shows out there.
Kohan’s bravery shakes grounds. In a television market flooded with male casts, Kohan shoved it right in their face, proving that not only can a mostly female cast be executed smartly, but it can be way better. A show like Orange is a rare occasion, something that viewers can relish and examine thoroughly, and thankfully, it’s been renewed for a second season. And after being left with a cliffhanger, I’ll say it again: I’m thankful for a second season.
You can check out a trailer for Orange below.
Image: Tumblr.