Since you last saw me, I started a Masters in Film and Media Studies at CUNY. It has been a fun and challenging way to structure my thinking around three things I think about almost all of the time: Film, TV and sports. Right now, I’m (mostly) enjoying the summer doldrums, resting my instrument (my brain) and avoiding my laptop. As a result, I am watching a TON of TV. And the newfound academic in me can’t help but apply some critical thinking to what I’m seeing.
As we all know, there is a deluge of content but only a small percentage of it is good. And I’m finding that what I consider to be quality TV now is very different from what I considered “quality” TV even a few years ago. I’m not sure if I chalk that solely up to my entry into the academy, or if I have just evolved as a person and a viewer. Anyhoo, I thought through some criteria of what I think makes a “good” TV show in the summer of 2024. To me, a “good” (i.e. watchable, interesting, quality) show:
Realistically integrates a variety of identities into its cast, without either completely ignoring said identity or making it the only interesting thing about a character
Is creative in form, structure and storytelling
Is responsive to the times and context within which it was made in a unique and entertaining way
Here are three shows that I think exemplified these criteria, in one way or another:
We Are Lady Parts: There is no better show on television right now. I am so serious. The second season of Channel 4’s We Are Lady Parts aired on Peacock in the U.S. in June, two years after season one debuted. Created by Nida Mazoor (also the writer/ director of the aesthetically similar film Polite Society), the show follows the adventures of 4 Muslim Londoners (Saira, Amina, Ayesha, and Bisma) who make up the punk band Lady Parts, alongside their manager, Momtaz. Each of these women are completely different from each other, in personality, identity and in their level of religious presentation and devotion. The careful characterization of these five women as individuals shatters the tired Western media narrative that all Muslim women are the same (meek, devout, repressed by men), while never downplaying the importance of Islam to the band and its members. Season two is a deep dive into both the characters’ internal lives of and the progression of the band, exploring topics like interracial dating, motherhood, the creative suppression of a record deal, coming out in the Muslim community, and how Bisma’s decision to wear a headscarf interacts with her identity as a Black woman.
These are heavy topics, but Lady Parts is not a heavy show. Besides its unique, sharply drawn badass characters, what sets Lady Parts apart is its tone. There’s surrealism, quick scene transitions to a sound effect I can only describe as “Tasmanian Devil”, colorful production design and beautiful cinematography that washes the screen in shades of amber and gold. It’s playfully structured around the voice over of the nerdy, awkward, lovable Amina. She’s the band’s lead guitarist and the closest thing to a protagonist in this otherwise ensemble cast.
The TLDR is that the show’s concerns and charisma can be summarized in its delightful original music. Lady Parts’ biggest hit is called “Voldemort Under My HeadScarf” (key lyric: “Voldemort’s alive/ and he’s under my head scarf/ he’s alive!/ he’s alive!”). And season two features a mystical songwriting scene for the band’s new song “Malala Made Me Do It” that revolves around the actual Malala Yousafzai sitting atop a horse wearing a pearlescent cowboy hat.
Fantasmas: Fantasmas is Julio Torres’ latest HBO series. A six episode romp through a slightly more whimsical, slightly more fantastical version of real life New York, Fantasmas is the visual and topical sibling of Torres’ feature film debut Problemista. Both the series and the film feature clear, surrealistic takedowns of bureaucratic American systems. In Problemista, he’s skewering immigration and work visas. In Fantasmas, he uses the show’s central conceit to highlight the absurdities of American healthcare, corporate “creativity”, overdevelopment, and the social media industrial complex. That central conceit is the protagonist Julio’s (played by Torres) quest to find a pearl earring he lost during a night out. A quest that brings him to a night club exclusively for hamsters, to the live stream of a ruthless influencer (a very devious Jaboukie), and into countless cabs driven by Chester- the sole driver of a rideshare service also called Chester. Julio is also convinced that a malignant mole is growing on his face in the place and shape of the earring’s shadow. This leads him to multiple trips to a very thinly veiled approximation of CityMD where everything from the walls to the doctor’s hair and teeth are washed in a sickly shade of yellow.
Julio’s search for the earring is actually his way of avoiding obtaining his “proof of existence”. In the world of Fantasmas, this is a form of identification that you need to work, to get an apartment, to open a social media account- basically to be considered a person. Without the Proof, Julio has become a fantasma himself. His work as a writer and corporate consultant is drying up, eviction notices pile up at his door. Yet, he seems freer than other people in his orbit. Jaboukie and his “consumers” (aka his followers) are holed up in a sterile apartment in the Bank of America tower. His acquaintance Trish, a middling actress, is manning her own Instagram fan account- a secret she will kill to maintain. And his agent Vanesja (an absolutely superb Martine Gutierrez) has turned a performance art piece about a talent agent into a career as an actual talent agent (On second thought, Vaneseja is very free.)
In Julio’s story, Julio Torres the writer is asking a wildly relatable question: Will the capitalistic system simply swallow you whole if you don’t know how to work within it/ can you actually exist outside of it and survive?
Love Island, U.S. Season 6: Stay with me here. My boyfriend of almost three years is a dating show savant. Before we met, I had watched merely a smattering of dating reality shows. He has introduced me to an entire universe of tragique attempted influencers looking for love, of which he considers Love Island to be the crown jewel. I was originally intimidated by the amount of content (thirty six NINETY minute episodes), but the buzz was buzzing so loud I could no longer resist. I must say I am… invested.
I think what makes this show so compulsively watchable is that the contestants aren’t just looking for love, they are building their own little society. At six weeks, Love Island’s production lasts much longer than other popular dating shows like Love is Blind (10 days in the pods, about two weeks in the real world) and Perfect Match (3 weeks). The 12ish guys and gals are deeply stuck in a manic Fijian villa that looks like a cross between Barbie’s Malibu dream house and that weird Malibu mansion that Kanye West destroyed. The girls and guys don’t have much to do for the nearly 40 days of filming besides hang out in one of the innumerable number of sitting areas (which are named ridiculous things like “Soul Ties” and “Wish You Were Here”). They spend an obscene amount of time contouring their faces (as a makeup ignoramus, I find this process both fascinating and horrifying. Like watching a clown come to life in slow motion.), and try to maintain enough of a love connection to be able to stay in the villa until the end.
Not only are contestants falling in love, they are building shockingly strong friendships along traditional gender lines. The tears for besties excused from the villa often flow more freely than when a potential love interest is dumped. And unlike other dating shows where it is basically a requirement to be absolutely smashed during all of your waking hours, this season’s Love Island contestants don’t drink much on camera- which means they are of their sober mind when they make some truly baffling decisions.
But what I find most fascinating about it all is that they are responsible for their own meals! I’m sure some lowly producer is tasked with restocking their al fresco kitchen on the daily, but the contestants themselves have to prepare their own meals. This turns into a culinary courting process. Every morning, the men prepare breakfast for the woman they are interested in and deliver it to them in “Snatched” (the dressing room where they perform the aforementioned evolution into clownery). That breakfast is almost always these men’s interpretations of avocado toast i.e. a piece of burnt toast with sliced avocados on top. But still! They are having to put the work in.
And not to spoil the ending, but the women in the final three are all women of color whose love interests are all men of color. This staggering statistic from Teen Vogue hits home how rare that is: “reality TV contestants from a minority ethnic background are 71% more likely to be in the bottom two, rising to 83% if they're a Black woman.”
And what to watch….
If you, like me, are already missing the Olympics, Watch: Netflix’s Sprint, which follows a number of global track stars (including Sha’Carri Richardson, Shericka Jackson and the insufferable Noah Lyles) as they prepare for the 2023 World Championships in Budapest. My brilliant friend Tara Kenny just reviewed it for The Monthly.
If you’ve BEEN missing the WNBA, Watch: The League’s return from the Olympic break. They’re baaackkkkk. With about a month left until the playoffs, the ladies of the W are battling it out to score one of 8 post-season slots. No need to worry about our hometown New York Liberty though, they’ve clinched their spot with a win over the Las Vegas Aces last week. And keep an eye on what’s happening an eye off the court as well. The players and their union are looking to renegotiate their historic 2020 CBA with a focus on increased salary caps, revenue sharing and overall player wellness benefits. Benefits and care for pregnant players will certainly be on the table, especially in light of Dearica Hamby’s lawsuit against the Aces, Becky Hammon and the league as a whole which alleges her former team discriminated against her while she was pregnant with her second child.
If you’re looking for something to fill the Succession sized hole in your heart, Watch: HBO’s Industry, which just returned for its third and apparently most insane season yet. I’m not saying it is on par with Succession, I AM saying it is the best show that not enough people are watching. Like everybody’s favorite concluded rich-people drama, It’s got: financial intrigue, risky sex and partying, twisted backstabbing, horrible yet complex characters and gorgeous European detours. It is also impressively responsive to the world’s biggest financial news stories. This season dives into the farcical nature of ESG and impact investing. Plus…HBO is also slotting it into Succession’s old Sunday night time slot… so maybe they are trying to recapture some of that Waystar Royco magic.
If you want a fun, but well-written show to close about the summer, watch: Eva Longoria (my forever favorite desperate housewife!!!!) makes her TV comeback in this appropriately soapy, appropriately Spanish AppleTV+ series. Eva plays Gala, a New York wine dealer, whose husband owes a lot of money to some Very Bad Guys. She, her mom and her daughter flee to her mother’s hometown of La Muga, Spain where she finds a woman-owned cooperative winery, a hot new love interest and a trail of men whose hearts her mother has broken over the years. The show is half in English, half in Spanish and is a perfect summer fling that contains some real stakes. It also stars Victoria Bazúa, a trans actress from Mexico City, as Gala’s daughter Kate. Land of Women is careful to lovingly and realistically weave in the fact that Kate is trans, without reducing her identity to just the fact that she’s trans-a major downfall of many other shows with trans characters (*cough cough* Sex Education).
This post was written for The Nosh, a monthly newsletter I co-write with my friend Jessie Wesley. Subscribe here!