#TooFemale: Representation for Women in 2016

Oprah Winfrey’s highly anticipated ‘Queen Sugar’ received glowing reviews.

It’s 2016 and television isn’t afraid to tackle the controversial. However, why characters who aren’t Caucasian taking the lead roles is a controversial move is beyond us, but ‘Queen Sugar‘ was something of a revelation. Produced by the ever-so-bold Ava Duvernay (Selma’, ‘Scandal’), ‘Queen Sugar’ revolves around the lives of three siblings. They are the brilliant Rutina Wesley as Nova, Dawn-Lyen Gardner as Charley, and Kofi Siriboe as Ralph Angel.

Albeit, they’re not household names. Rather, they’re brilliant names because they are stunning in the show. The show itself doesn’t shy away from important issues that plague, sadly, black families (but are of course not exclusive to them). Issues like drug addiction, prison, romance difficulties and young children to be raised.

The Los Angeles Times was charmed enough to have this as their review title: “A black boy and a Barbie named Kenya: Why Ava DuVernay’s ‘Queen Sugar’ goes where many black stories won’t.”

It quite aptly sums it up. It’s 2016 and for some reason, these kinds of stories are still taboo. DuVernay doesn’t care. She tells the solid truth and it’s so refreshing to see real stories on TV. Wit the LA Times, DuVernay elaborated:

I wanted to make sure ‘Queen Sugar,’ in a lot of different ways, is pointing to parts of our conversation as a black American family. Particularly the things we close our eyes to and don’t talk about or don’t know how to talk about.

RELATED l Full LA Times Interview with Ava DuVernay

It’s a simple premise, isn’t it? Are there aspects of black people’s lives we know nothing of? I will be the first to admit ‘yes’. And do we want to know about it? If the answer’s no, change it.

‘Queen Sugar’ is not just about diversity displayed on-screen; minorities given the opportunity to shine. It’s inclusion, too. There must be a million sitcoms out there revolving around white families or unfunny nerds (yes, it’s ‘Big Bang Theory’). There are soapy elements to ‘Queen Sugar’—there’s no denying that. But it’s the shock of it happening and the heavy, very real consequences that sets it apart from the others.

Finally, this isn’t just about ‘Queen Sugar’ being good. If you read reviews of it, you may find that praise. This is about ‘Queen Sugar’ being important. It’s not Baz Luhrrmann’s overly lavish ‘The Get Down‘. Even if it were all show and no substance as per the latter, television networks and producers should be unafraid of tackling shows like this—that is, shows with a diverse cast. Do you watch television and expect an all-white police force solving crime with a token black tech guy? Or do you want a different flavour? A taste of a world unknown, and a world very real?

What do Vanity Fair think?

Ava DuVernay and Queen Sugar Look Like the Future of Television.

That sounds about right.

This may be the most exciting thing to hit the air—the pilot smashes it out of the park.

Overnight, Kylie Bunbury was everyone’s talking point. And with good reason.

To keep it short and simple: ‘PITCH‘ will knock you for six. Our enthusiastic review of the pilot encapsulates most of our feelings—which is ninety percent adoration for Ms. Bunbury herself.

There isn’t a major baseball league for women, so the immensely talented Ginny Banks (Bunbury) joins the ranks of the male team. Can you see where this is going? This is Ginny, effectively alone in a man’s world. She’s strong, self-reliant and thick-skinned. You have to use a bit of imagination to believe Ginny’s baseball prowess, but spectacular things have happened in real life. Memorably, Jennie Finch, in 2004, struck out Mike Piazza, Brian Giles, and most famously, Albert Pujols.

Unless you’re deliberately looking to nitpick ‘PITCH’, then you will find suspension of belief impossible—and probably watching fictional television series, too (…the ‘Walking Dead’, anyone?)

RELATED l TV After Dark’s Review for PITCH 1×01

Whereas ‘Queen Sugar’ delves into a foreign world to us, ‘PITCH’ is a twist on the familiar. Fox worked with the MLB in order to play Ginny’s style of pitching accurately. She’s clever. She clashes a little with Mark-Paul Gosselaar’s Lawson, the catcher. Lawson informs her that she’s someone younger girls and younger women will look up to. It’s the only real catch in this: the charm Ginny bestows is that she is new and unpredictable. She’s a whizzing fireball.

That level of responsibility whilst remaining very much the underdog of the story—despite her high level of talent—makes Ginny an exceptionally interesting character. Ginny Baker is universal. Young girls can look to her and see true leadership qualities: her strength, charisma and determination. They can also empathise with her stepping into an entirely new world and adapting to it, in a world run amok by men. Ginny Baker represents a lot of much-needed significance to the audience. Whereas ‘Queen Sugar’ can educate us about familial life in a way we’ve never seen before, ‘PITCH’ tells an of-told before story of the underdog. Except how many times has a young, black woman been the hero? How many times has she conquered the daunting changing room full of testosterone?

Like ‘Queen Sugar’, ‘PITCH’ matters. Additionally, it’s brilliantly entertaining. It’s very often cliched. But it’s important. People identify with Ginny–not Ginny the baseball pitcher, but Ginny the ostracised, determined black woman. And that matters.

You didn’t think I was gonna ignore ‘Empire’ did you, boo-boo kitty?

Ultimately, ‘Empire‘ is one of the biggest shows on television. It’s epic, it’s melodramatic, it’s ridiculous and especially with Taraji P. Henson, it’s laugh-out-loud funny.

‘Empire’ is the company built by Lucious Lyon (Terrence Howard) who is the most conniving, manipulative, selfish doofus there is. His sons comprise of the well-educated and capable businessman Andre Lyon (the hugely underrated Tray Byers), talented singer-songwriter Jamal (Jussie Smollett) and the youngest—a hard-partying rapper, Hakeem (Bryshere Y. Gray), At first, the trio fight it out to take control of the company before—with a little help from Cookie (Henson) they band together.

‘Empire’ might be ridiculous and…more ridiculous. But it’s got heart. Also: really addictive songs. It even had Naomi Campbell in it. But as Cookie repeatedly states: it’s about family. And this is where Cookie becomes central to the story.

RELATED l ‘The Best of Cookie Lyon’

Humour aside, we ended on Cookie because she is one hundred percent fearless. She’s got nothing to lose—not at this point. Ginny Baker has her career on the line if she fudges up her first game. ‘Queen Sugar’ is jam-packed with street protests, police responses and an inner look into the intimate struggles of the life we know nothing of.

We know nothing of the ‘Empire’ world either; we’re not sure if anyone can be as rich as Lucious Lyon. But it’s different. Whereas ‘Queen Sugar’ shows us what it’s like to have nothing, a recovering addict and etc., ‘Empire’ shows us that black people can live lavishly.

It’s shown that with’ PITCH’, anything is possible. Who would’ve thought a black woman would play major league baseball? That is a big deal, isn’t it? And what about ‘Queen Sugar’? Who would’ve thought those poor women could make it through life happy and smiling? And of ‘Empire’…it’s more than just money. Andre has bipolar disorder; Anika is pregnant; Jamal is gay and Cookie and Lucious are forever fighting. The Lyon family has it all. They are rich. They have everything, yet they have nothing.

Arguably, they are the most dysfunctional. Lesson learned: money cannot buy happiness. That’s a lesson as old as time. It’s also a lesson that everyone’s been told. Including black people. ‘Empire’ is problematic–but the millions of fans and hoards of touched viewers who have felt representation from the characters has been evidenced. Again: that matters.

“The Get Down, like a disco ball, glitters on the outside but is hollow at heart.”

Above all, black actors can have comedies; soap operas; dramas. They can have it all because they live on Earth, and Earth possesses television. Things have to change.. Young, black boys and girls cannot be denied representation and role-models just because they don’t fit the television network’s criteria. Tell a story if a story is worth telling. Black, white, Chinese, Indian… just tell it. Tell a good one, and we’ll all be smiling. Give us more ‘Fresh off the Boat‘. ‘Master of None’. There’ll be hits and misses (‘The Get Down’–and Baz Luhrmann’s ridiculous budgeting). But so what?

It has to start somewhere. It has to start behind-the-scenes. Writers of colour, of different sexualities,of accurate trans portrayals. The industry cannot be afraid to do this–it’s what audiences crave; it’s what they need. There’s a plethora of white male characters people can look up to. Others? Not really.

Wynonna Earp. Let’s talk Wynonna Earp.

The female representation on ‘Wynonna Earp‘ (Syfy) has been exceptional. The lead is the descendant of the legendary lawman Wyatt Earp: Wynonna (Melanie Scrofano). She’s imperfect, reckless, sarcastic and she makes mistakes. She cries. She crumbles under pressure sometimes; sometimes she kicks pressure so hard in the ass it comes out the face. Scrofano’s portrayal is stunning. Massively underrated and written off as just another show, like ‘Killjoys’, Syfy’s on a roll. Emily Andras’ writing staff is dominantly female. And it shows.

Wynonna is by all accounts a strong woman. She’s fearless yet vulnerable; sharp yet pigheaded. She is a juxtaposition and it’s ruddy brilliant to see such an flawed, damaged woman still be the hero of the show.

The rest of the cast are written similarly. The fun in identifying with these characters is that they are nowhere near perfect, and never will be. Yet that is what makes them so perfect to the fans. LGBT representation billowed in our faces in the form of the babbling, uncertain, brave Waverly and the confidently open, alluring Officer Nicole Haught. It was gentle; sweet; real. ‘Wynonna Earp’ is not a perfect show. No show is. But its imperfections make it quite the perfect view for its audience. And isn’t that what matters?

How did you feel about representation on TV this year? What was good, and what was bad?—Let us know @TVAfterDark!