Orange Is the New Obsession

Over the weekend, like almost every other lesbian, I binge watched “Orange Is the New Black.” I did this because I physically could not stop watching. After seeing just the first episode it became an imperative need to immediately consumer the entire first season. If it hadn’t been for the pesky need to sleep, eat, bathe and make a living I would have watched all 13 episodes in one sitting.

I don’t know what else I can lend to the already rousing chorus of praise for Netflix’s newest offering. The series, about an upper-crust white woman’s immersion into the at times harrowing, at times hilarious world of incarceration in a federal women’s prison is magnificent. Words like “rich,” “complex,” “layered” simply cannot be overused here. From the acting to the writing to the casting it’s practically perfect. The ability to both warm and break one’s heart, sometimes in the same episode – fuck sometimes in the same scene – is one not many shows can master.

But here is a show that is able to lay bare some of the things we try not to talk about in polite society – white privilege, racial separatism, cultural elitism, religious fundamentalism, how to make shower flip-flops out of maxi pads. And it does it all with one of the most diverse casts on televisions. (Yes, I know, some take issue with a show with great diversity being set in a prison – but statistics will show that’s the shitty, shitty truth of our shitty, shitty justice system). I love how almost all of the women get a chance to tell their stories. How they got there, why they got there. Who they were, who they want to be. Nothing in “Orange Is the New Black” smacks of tokenism (well, mustachioed men might have a legitimate gripe – you guys are simply awful in this show).

And we haven’t even gotten to the lesbianism, which believe you me is front and center and glorious. The sexual spectrum, including trans stories, is handled deftly. Again, it’s not done for show, it’s done for authenticity. Sometimes gay women go to prison, sometimes women who had a same-sex relationship 10 years ago go to prison. And sometimes those same women run into their exes from 10 years ago at that same prison. And you thought your ex-relationship was complicated. Amateurs.

Still if none of that manages to convince you this show is indeed worth 13-hours of your life, there’s also the delightful game of “How Do I Know Her?” you can play throughout. Hey, where do I know that prison cook Red from? Fuck, that’s Captain Janeway/Kate Mulgrew! Hm, that hippie yoga instructor’s voice sure sounds familiar. Wait, it’s Evelyn Couch’s friend from the vagina workshop in “Fried Green Tomatoes.” Man, I know I’ve seen that meth mouth Tiffany before. Shit, she was Britney’s BFF in “Crossroads” (I’m told, I proudly have not seen that movie). And there’s also Natasha Lyonne and Lea DeLaria and Laura Prepon. Sweet fancy Moses, there is Laura Prepon and her irresistible, inevitable bespectacled swagger. I’d go to prison just to watch her take her glasses on and off. I mean it.

In conclusion, the sleep deprivation is totally worth it. Orange is better than the new black. It’s your new TV obsession.

p.s. Isn’t Regina Spektor’s theme song “You’ve Got Time“ just fucking perfect? Also, I can’t stop humming it.

p.p.s. SPOILERS SPOILER SPOILERS SPOILERS: Can you believe they ended the season like that? Holy fuckity fuck. But seriously, she is fucked. Or at the very least doing more time. Fuck. Hurry up, Season 2.

p.p.p.s. MORE SPOILERS: I fluctuated for a while between feeling sorry and annoyed for Larry. But then he exploited her experiences for his career, without even asking full permission first, he became insufferable. So, hope your NPR tote is really useful in hell, Larry.