Netflix’s newest original series is also a triumph. Just after I got the bad taste of Hemlock Grove out of my mouth (more on that travesty down the road) I gave this occasionally indulgent, potentially alienating series a real shot and I found that each episode got better, deeper, funnier, and more touching. It starts out as a mild diversion and quietly sneaks up on you that you’re watching something really, honestly good.
For those that don’t know the show follows Piper Chapman (Taylor Schilling, in a performance that will either be a breakout or a turn-off depending on your view), a privileged white woman with a shlubby yet supportive fiancee (Jason Biggs, who’s so good here I can’t believe I didn’t miss him before this) whose world is rocked when she’s indicted for a ten years old crime and sentenced to 15 months in prison. The biggest catch? She’s there because of her involvement with a former girl-friend’s drug ring, and that former girlfriend is in prison with her. The show derives real tension from the question of whether or not that girlfriend (played by a droll Laura Prepon, who’s the least convincing aspect of the show, she seems more like your accountant than a wild, tatted drug smuggler) turned Piper in or not, adding an extra layer of juice to her complicated love triangle.
In a lesser show’s hands, the whole stable male fiancee vs. wild former girlfriend would have been milked for Showtime-esque titillation and not much else (I could just imagine Californication or House of Lies botching this royally) but Orange is the New Black uses it to explore deeper layers of exactly how someone like Piper keeps making all the wrong decisions even as she’s given every advantage. Unlike HBO’s comparatively shallow Girls, we’re watching an entitled antiheroine stumble through poor choices and actually face consequences from those choices, which is something she’s as surprised as we are that she’s facing.
Does the show occasionally get lost in too-obvious raunch humor? Yes, like any time walking punchline Natasha Lyonne opens her mouth as the prison’s most loudly sexualized lesbian. But any such speed bumps are more than worth crossing for a show this insightful and interested in female friendships, and one this humane. [Every episode involves flashbacks to an inmate’s life and what led them to prison, all of them interesting paths.]
There are no true, 100 percent boo-hiss villains on this show, not an unrecognizable Kate Mulgrew as a Russian mob wife (she’s a revelation), or a severely damaged/dangerous Jesus freak, or “Crazy Eyes” the heartsick lesbian who’s given added layers of depth in the show’s finale episodes. When a show is open-hearted enough to even give a corrupt, drug dealing prison guard some touches of vulnerability and humanity, you know it’s something special. This may be the first show about prison that fills those concrete walls with people sympathetic and interesting. Grade for the first season: A-
It’s a great show.