Tuesday, April 26, 2022

Definitely Something

Every queer person intrinsically understands the process of finding their chosen family. Yet we’ve rarely been shown depictions of this — past that of teens or young adults. Part of what makes the new HBO series “Somebody Somewhere” so special is that it allows full-grown adults to find their families, and themselves.

The show is a semi-autobiographical story from comedian/cabaret aficionado Bridget Everett. If you’re a fan of Amy Schumer’s sketch comedy series, you’ve no doubt seen Bridget’s stand-up. She’s always kind of brash and wonderful, but “Somebody Somewhere” allows her to show her big, beautiful heart as well.

Set in Manhattan, Kansas (where Bridget was born and raised) the show also reveals a nuanced eye for quiet intricacies of Midwestern family life. In the series her character Sam had returned to her hometown to take care of her sick sister, who then passes away before the show starts. Now, six months later, Sam is adrift. The story is part mid-life crisis, part an embrace of your inner outsider.

“Somebody Somewhere” is also an undeniably queer story. While Bridget’s Sam doesn’t identify as gay, the friends she turns into family during the course of the show cross the LGBTQ+ spectrum. But their sexuality and gender identity isn’t fussed over. Like true Midwesterners, most of the gay stuff goes unsaid or remarked upon — it just is. (Same goes for commentary on Sam’s body, which is only touched on fleetingly making for a refreshing change.) The series also deftly navigates many queer Midwesterners often uncomfortable relationship with the church.

The heart of the show is about finding your people, the ones who make you feel like you belong. The ones who support you, even when you think you don’t deserve anyone’s love or care. Sam finds it in her gay BFF Joel (played with goofy grace by Jeff Hiller). I’ve also mentioned this show is really funny, right? Because it is. Really, really funny.

After the short “Somebody Somewhere” first season, just seven 30-minute episodes, you’ll definitely want more. But you’ll also feel fully satisfied. In a town where rainbows still mostly mean The Wizard of Oz, the show is a meditation on the power of queer and outsider families. They can help us find, or rediscover our voices — in this case figuratively and literally. In showing us the power of being authentically ourselves, and embracing our inner oddballs, we can find joy in the most unlikely of places — even Manhattan, Kansas.

p.s. If you don’t finish the show with a little boy crush on Fred Rococo than I’m not sure we can be friends.

1 comment:

Elana said...

Such a good show! I really enjoyed how comfortable the characters were in their own skin. The relationships so intelligently portrayed...