Like other junkies with a binge-watching addiction, I stumbled upon Netflix’s “Orange is the New Black” not by word of mouth, ad, or Facebook updates made by a high school acquaintance who actually writes for the show. I started watching it because I ran out of episodes of “Arrested Development” and Netflix countdown clocked it upon me.
What the hell does that mean?
Netflix, the AIDS-monkey originator of binge-watcheritus, shrinks the credits at the end of each episode you stream into a little lonely cube floating at the top right-hand corner of your screen. The next episode is in another cube at the bottom right. In the center is a clock that takes advantage of one’s post-show emotional rush or fresh end-of-series abyss-of-sad by giving you 10 seconds to decide whether you want to find out if Hank from “Breaking Bad” survived a bloody supermarket shoot-down, flush away your sense of emptiness with a new show, or engage in a responsible adult-like activity like going to bed at 2 a.m.. Netflix offered me a preview of its new series, “Orange is the New Black.” So I watched it and like cokehead accepting crack because her dealer’s fresh out of blow, I watched the show. And it felt so good.
To be fair, a crack simile is appropriate when trying to articulate Netflix’s manipulative marketing strategies, it’s not when using it as an analogy to describe the quality of “Orange is the New Black.” This show is not crack. Crack is whack TV like “Dancing with the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills 90210.” Yet, I’m not sure if OTNB is a fine wine of a show either – with only one season in the can, the show just popped it cork and needs some time to breathe. So I’m going to equate this show to a taco. It’s neatly compacted, filled with a variety of flavor, and tasty enough that you automatically want another immediately upon consumption, which is perfect for a Netflix series that premiered with 13 episodes ready to be devoured however one desires.
The show centers on Piper Chapman (Taylor Schilling), a waspy Park Slope princess who makes artisan soap for a living. She’s the type who goes on Master Cleanses, forbids her Jewish wannabe writer fiancé to watch a new episode of “Mad Men” without her, and makes Fairway checkout clerks re-bag her plastic bagged groceries once she’s found the canvas bags that were hidden in the depths of her purse. She is the white, pampered, uppity, educated, self-righteous, phony environmentalist Brooklynite most Netflix viewers know, or as much as we would hate to admit it, are; making Piper the perfect audience surrogate when she is forced to go to prison for international heroin trafficking. That she partook in ten years prior with her lesbian lover.
And the show isn’t afraid to poke fun at Piper’s whiteness either, or let its main character use it as a source of manipulation. It is the layers of characterization like Piper’s that make this show interesting, but “Orange is the New Black” is not just about Piper. It’s about everyone she engages in a women’s prison. Or more importantly, about how someone like Piper – or someone like us – isn’t any better than the rest of the women she’s incarcerated with, from the transgendered beautician to Piper’s drug running ex-girlfriend.
Yet, for all the positives the show has – a great sense of humor, wonderful storytelling abilities, topnotch acting, portrayals of lesbians that extend beyond lesbians just being lesbians, a talented, diverse, and huge female ensemble that includes Laura Prepon, Natasha Lyonne, Natasha Lyonne’s hair, and the voice of Patty Mayonnaise on “Doug,” Constance Shulman (!!!) – it does have flaws greater than Prepon’s eyebrows. For instance, its male characters, specifically a prison guard called “Pornstache,” are one-dimensional and it can be gross (i.e. a scene where Piper is given a tampon sandwich after pissing off the kitchen’s well-connected head chef with ties to the Russian mob). And though the show identifies that clashes in race and class do exist, it hasn’t delved that deeply into the topic yet, which is only a downer because the show is so smart – just like the pairing of horseradish and pickles.
An item that Piper might have picked up at her local farmer’s market and rationed out in small servings in order to savor and extend the amount of time she could enjoy something so delicious, which is how you should watch this show. Don’t devour it whole. Take your time, ignore the damn countdown clock, and enjoy this series. Viva el taco!
