[List] My 10 Favorite 2018 Series Debuts

by Qua-niesha

best2018debut

The title posters of the following series (left to right, top bottom): Facebook Watch’s Queen America, NBC’s Rise, Netflix’s Diablero, DC Universe’s TITANS, Freeform’s Cloak and Dagger, The CW’s All American, YouTube Red’s Step Up: High Water, SHOWTIME’s The Chi, The CW’s Black Lightning, and FX’s Pose. Photos courtesy to TheTVDB.

I watch a lot of shows. If you don’t follow me on TVTime or Twitter or even Tumblr, you may not be aware of that, but I do. I watch a lot of them, and I have opinions on them. I recently started reviewing the pilots for certain series that debut; sometimes, I’ll do full-series reviews, or I’ll review the premiere episode of an additional season. With all that being fresh, and with some rhetorical questions asked by Trudy who runs the entertainment review site, Cinemacked, I decided that maybe I should continue the episode and series (fan) reviews but also do list-ofs for all the shows that I don’t review individually but watch. This can be a way for me to warn of content and examine the series overall.

Something I want to add is that I will divide this up into two lists: Best of and Feel Good (stay tuned for that post). I will also be using the Kent Test, created by media critic and reporter Clarkisha Kent, to examine the representation and fairness of the women of color involved. The list will start from the bottom, which will be a neutral favorite, to the top, which will be a critical favorite. My ranking is mostly based on writing, inappropriate or offensive content, and overall enjoyability. I don’t rank based on production quality, but if I do like the visuals, design, and editing of the show, then yes, it will be mentioned.

  1. Queen America – Based in modern times and set in Tulsa, Oklahoma, Queen America follows Vicki Ellis (played by Catherine Zeta-Jones), a pageant coach for Miss America contestants, in her struggle to keep her public perceived life and her internal struggles balanced. What seems perfect falls apart as she takes on unpolished, naive Samantha Cole (played by Belle Shouse) under her wing and discovers Cole has more in common with her than she’s willing to admit. Also starring are Rana Roy and Teagle Bougere. Created by Meaghan Oppenheimer; the first season was executively produced by Oppenheimer, Alethea Jones (Lemonade Stand, When the Wind Changes), Janice Williams (All Good Things, The Final Girls), Bruna Papandrea (Big Little Lies, All Good Things), Paul Lee, Steve Hutensky (The Human Stain), Casey Haver, Guymon Casady (Game of Thrones, the Expendables franchise), and Suzan Bymel (Designated Survivor, Touch); produced by Darren M. Demetre (American Vandal, Everything Sucks!), Gretchen Enders (Take My Wife, Grace and Frankie), and Jack Moore (Dear White People, Crowded); directed by Jones; and written by Oppenheimer, Liz Elverenli (Awkward.), and Moore, this is a 10-episode, half-hour dark comedy, online drama series distributed by Facebook Watch.

 

The story in season one is solid, and the characterizations are impeccable. The writers clearly have a grasp on the human psyche. The one thing I came into the show believing is that this show would give a hopeful narrative, but it doesn’t do that. It takes commonly known experiences in the pageant and beauty industry and incorporates it into this series without giving feel-good narratives, hence the reason it is a “dark comedy.” It tackles binge eating disorder, alcoholism, complex trauma, trichotillomania, and suicide, and none of this is in a pretty way. It shows the unprettiness of these experiences, but it doesn’t shame any characters. The only moment I can say was relatively shameful was a scene between Mary and Vicki in one of the earlier episodes, but most of it has been solid experiences. The show touches on repressed homosexuality through a side character and how fatphobia manifests itself into fat teen girls’ perceptions of themselves.

 

Before I get into the Kent scoring, I want to also discuss my concerns with Nigel Hill (played by Bougere). His character does build Samantha up (as her contracted stylist) when she’s down, but he also rightly calls her out when she steps out of line. He has an impeccable friendship with Vicki and a wonky dynamic with Mary. My primary issue is his inclusion in a cheating narrative with a white man, Bruce James (played by Robert Pralgo). We’ve seen Nigel have sexual encounters with other Black men his age on two separate encounters, and we know he engages in Black queer spaces, but his pining after Bruce is one of the most frustrating aspects of his character. He’s very aware he deserves better, and he’s very engaged with other Black queer men like himself, but he can only see himself romantically with a white man who has children and a wife, and this seems like some form of unaddressed, internalized antiblackness. It seems like a trope of inserting white people into spaces for characters of color where unnecessary, and my hope for this show, if it gets renewed, is to forgo his romantic interest with Bruce and let him be happy with another Black man who respects him and mutually loves.

 

Now, Mary Clark, played by multiracial Indian and Afro-Arab actress, Rana Roy, is the only woman of color in the entire series. I’m not aware of any specific South Asian tropes that she fits, so I will save this for later. I can say she does not have her own arc, but she’s also not a one or two-dimensional character. Mary is clearly multilayered and developed; we just don’t see her background because the focus is on the white characters. She does not prop up any men, but although she is a fitness trainer for Vicki’s clients, she does not make any other white woman look better than her. The narrative framing between Samantha and her could use some improvement, but Mary’s issues are not less than the white women. Overall, this show has middling representation women of color with 3 points in its first season.

 

I will be honest and admit I only got into this show because I saw Victoria Justice was starring in it, but my interest remained glued after seeing Roy’s, Shouse’s, Isabella Amara’s, and Zeta-Jones’s performances. They really won me over. Judith Light and Molly Price also did a fantastic job in their roles. I think the actor who takes the cake for me is Roy, though. Second would be Light. I felt that Justice’s performance was rather weak compared to the rest of the cast, and it sorta relieved me that she wasn’t there by the third episode. I don’t know if she simply didn’t match with the character, but it felt like I was watching her in Victorious again which means it felt like she didn’t grow as an actress. Tom Ellis also blew me away with his performance. I can tell Bougere is a fantastic actor, but they did not give this man enough to work with to actually showcase that. Even his sadder moments, he couldn’t even show emotions. Everything about his character prioritized white people’s feelings over his. It’s a weird feeling where you can tell an actor can do better, but the script seems to not allow them to be better.

 

Queen America is a rather interesting, white-centric series that touches on some heavy topics while not lecturing you or giving you feel-good narratives. It’s simply a show that’s there. There is a sexual assault scene near the end in the second episode, and the show doesn’t do anything about the predator in question, but you see how Samantha still feels unsettles and reacts internally to being around her assaulter (props to Shouse on the acting). It also has sporadic scenes of binge eating and alcoholic remissions. Season one is currently airing on Facebook Watch! Season two has yet to be determined. My final score for this show is a 7.5/10.

 

  1. Rise — A contemporary, musical drama series loosely inspired by the 2013 biography, Drama High (written by Michael Sokolove; about the former high school drama teacher, Lou Volpe), Rise centers Lou Mazzuchelli (played by Josh Radnor), a high school English literature teacher from a small town in Pennsylvania, deciding to save the theatre program after hearing it would be cut by the principal due to budget reasons. He frequently butts heads with theatre director, Tracey Wolfe (played by Rosie Perez) while inspiring students of color–Lilette Suarez (played by Auli’i Cravalho) and Robbie Thorne (played by Damon J. Gillespie)–to look toward acting as an alternative to their rigid lives. The series was created by Jason Katims (Friday Night Lights, Roswell) who also executive produced the first season along with Mike Cahill (Another Earth, I Origins), Michelle Lee (Pure Genius, The Path), Flody Suarez (The Tick, 8 Simple Rules), and Jeffrey Seller (Rent) with co-executive producers Russel Friend (House M.D., Altered Carbon) and Garrett Lerner (House M.D., Altered Carbon), supervised and consultant producers Kristin Robinson (Suits, The Bold Type), Ian Deitchman (Z: The Beginning of Everything, The Bold Type), and Kerry Ehrin (Bates Motel, Friday Night Lights); and writers Katims, Meghan Kennedy (Falling Water), Ted Malawer, Denise Hahn (CSI: Cyber, Grey’s Anatomy), Deitchman, Ehrin, Friend, Lerner, and Robinson.

 

The story for the series was rough but solid. It balanced out each character’s arcs well, and they all managed to stay interconnected. There were little obscure moments, but the overall writing was coherent. My main gripe with the series had more to do with how Director Wolfe was treated. A Black woman director with decades worth experience and a degree in theater was so easily shoehorned out of her position for a white man with only a summer’s worth of directing experience. This is definitely a reality for some Black women, and I don’t know if Volpe, himself, ever confessed to this in his book about his life, but seeing it bothered me so much. And the fact that the principal was a Black man, and he just let this happen was something that truly made my blood boil. A more minor quip was Robbie’s little indecision about playing football and participating in theater. I assume this series is modern because it has some characters on iPhones, and they joke about that Hamilton play, and I do give a pass that this probably takes place in a rural suburb where the locals are late to events and ideologies that urbanized and city-suburban people would already know. Modern times, no athlete struggles with this. There are accommodations in school for students in theatre, students in athletics, and students in both. Perhaps the fact that this is a rural suburban school is the reason it becomes an issue. I also had some issues with Michael Hallowell’s (played by Ellie Desautels) storyline. I was expecting a more prominent role for him, but most of it was a unrequited love arc with a tiny hint of what-about-me and transphobia from the outside world. I loved the scenes where Michael felt socially accepted; it was a feeling a breath of fresh air for me (I lived vicariously through that moment), but the whole friend zone thing pissed me off. I really loved Lilette’s storylines especially her issues with her mother and finding solace in her friends, Robbie’s storylines with his family and with Lilette, Simon’s (played by Ted Sutherland) storyline with coming to terms with his attraction, Maashous’s (played by Rarmian Newton) storyline with the Mazzuchellis, and Gwen’s (played by Amy Forsythe) storyline. I had a lot of issues with Gwen’s character, but her development was such a breath of fresh air. It still doesn’t take away the racialized misogyny she threw at Lilette, though.

 

And now for the Kent test. We have two prominent women of color in the series: Lilette and Tracey. We have recurring women of color in the series and background women of color in the series. Neither Lilette or Tracey are stereotypes or fall into any trope that I am aware of; they have their own, separate arcs; they don’t hold down or prop up any man or white woman; neither of them sacrifices themselves for any other character; they are not hypersexualized or oversexualized; and they interact with their own family and other women of color they are not related to. I will break down while Tracey doesn’t hold down Lou nor is sacrificed. She puts him in his place, and she keeps her job as long as her boss will let her, and even in the end, she still gets her job back. Now, the story showcase this woman of color (a Black woman, at that) lowering her skills and qualifications for a white man’s benefit, and the show addresses this. It’s a point of development for Lou. The two points I gave Rise was barely given because it bordered on doing the things it should not have, but in the end, it fixed itself. (And remember, the Kent test is for bare minimum qualifications). With 8 points, it has strong representation for women of color.

 

I have to say, for a first-time actress, Cravalho stunned. All the performances in this show were off-the-charts amazing, but certain actors had to be my favorite, and Cravalho was one of them. Perez was another. I mean, between over-relating to her situation, the performance she put into her character alone was breathtaking. Forsythe, Sunderland, Desautels, Radnor Erin Kommor, and Stephen Plunkett, Shirley Rumierk, and Sean Grandillo also had outstanding performances.

 

Rise got a bad rep before it premiered because the showrunners told the world Lou Mazzuchelli would not be gay in the series like his real-life counterpart. Many people wrote this off because erasing real-life queer people is a bad move. It’s not a smart one at all. What was later mentioned was that they’d have another gay character, Simon, and a trans character, Michael. The way the showrunners handled this situation in the press was abominable because their reasonings for straightwashing didn’t make sense. It did, but it was another example of cishet people getting caught up in their own feelings trying to shut down queer people. Yes, it is a loose adaptation of Volpe’s life, so I don’t think anybody would have expected the show to be exactly like his life, and we all expected the character to be more of an original character anyway. But, they could have said, “Mazzuchelli is at a point in his life where he doesn’t know he is gay, so we’re focusing on that.” They wouldn’t even have to do anything with the character because of the way he was worked perfectly. They should have kept their mouths closed. The fact that Volpe was a closeted gay man with a family of his own because he had a late coming out would have been a really cool aspect to incorporate in the show. They booted off a lot of people because of their own homophobia, and I don’t blame Volpe for saying it’s okay because we’ve honestly internalized to feel honored at small stuff that cishet people do for us (in this case, the fact that he made it as far as he did, had a book written about him, and had a television series draw inspiration from him). Regardless, this show won me over from the pilot, and it kept me engaged every week. It’s a 10-episode, 45-minute, NBC drama series that was canceled after just one season. It’s a hearty series with strong performances and a lovely soundtrack. If you can withstand the racist contexts that some of the women of color experience, then go ahead and watch it. It has a good ending for everyone involved especially the characters of color and the white, queer characters. It has some of the most inclusive casting I’ve seen from hiring a non-binary trans actor, a multiracial Native Hawaiian teen actress, a teen actress with Down Syndrome (who is not there for sympathy) to the supporting characters who all have their fair share of showcasing their singing and dancing talents including Shannon Purser, Katherine Reis, Tiffany Mann, Alexis Molnar, and Rachel Hilson. The show was an 8.5/10.

 

  1. Diablero – Based on the Spanish-language, dark fantasy standalone novel, El Diablo me obligó, written by Mexican author, F.G. Haghenbeck, Diablero takes place in the capital city of Mexico and follows Catholic priest and exorcist, Francisco Ventura (played by Christopher von Uckermann) as he’s called next-of-kin to raise a child he never knew he had after his estranged ex-wife dies from a demon attack. After being informed that his child, Marianna (played by Cali DiCapo), is missing, and of the supernatural aspects that follow the case by his wife’s nurse, Keta Infante (played by Fatima Molina), he unreluctantly works with notorious, demon-hunter, Elvis Infante (played by Horacio Garcia Rojas), Nancy Gama (played by Giselle Kuri), a woman who uses her body as a host for demons, and Keta to find his estranged daughter. His adventure with his new colleagues quickly turns left as they all uncover a conspiracy that goes way over their heads as they soon realize though the supernatural has become more prominent, it’s the ordinary that really pulls the strings. The series was created by Pablo Tébar (Mar de plástico) and Jose Manuel Cravioto. The first season was executively produced by Diego Avalos (3%, Ingobernable), Arturo Diaz (3%, Las chicas del cable), Juan Gordon (Celda 211, Invasor), Francisco Ramos (Mortadelo y Filemón contra Jimmy el Cachondo, Entre las piernas), and Pedro Uriol (Los ultimos dias); developed by Ashlin Yu (Elite, Super Drags) and written by Tébar, José Rodríguez, Verónica Marzá (El internado, Mar de plástico), Luis Gamboa (Papá a Toda Madre, Fortuna), Gibrán Portela (La juala de oro, Güeros), Laura Sarmiento Pallarés (La zona, Isabel), and Daniel Sánchez Arranz (Casi perfectos, Jelly Jamm).

 

I think the plot was solid, but I wouldn’t be putting this on the list if it wasn’t. I read the description of the source material and some reviews of the book, and this show changed a lot and shifted the focus of the characters. All the characters are engaging in their own way with visible flaws. The writing melds the mythologies of Mexican, Catholic, and Nahuatl culture while invoking something both cliched and original. For me, since I’m neither Latine nor indigenous, and since I haven’t read the source material, the entire story was fresh for me, and it gave me an eye to look at it from an unfamiliar lens. I loved that. The story is very engaging, and the narrative was thrilling. It was the dark fantasy fix I needed to make me feel inspired. My only concern is making Mama Chabela, a Nahuatl woman played by Nahuatl actress Dolores Heredia, an evil character who kidnaps and sacrifices children, and the repeated use of “El Indio” thrown at Isaac (played by Humberto Busto). As I just said, I’m not from any of the indigenous American communities, nor am I Latine, so I don’t know if this was done with context and care. I just know that “Indio” is a derogatory term towards the indigenous populations of Mexico and other Latine communities. I think another weird moment I had with the script was Ventura’s romantic connection with Nancy. It was weird to me, and I was glad that it didn’t linger the entire series. I think the heart of what made this series to me is Keta’s re-importance to the story, how Nancy uses her body as a self-harming vessel for demons to possess as a way to cope with her trauma from child sexual abuse, and Marianna saving herself through her tactile skills and her emotional intelligence. The women make this show.

 

I think my favorite performances had to have come from Heredia, Molina, Kuri, DiCapo, Dulce Neri, and Mariana Botas (the latter two played Paulina and Thalia, respectively). All of the child actors and Quetzalli Cortés (who played Wences) also did a superior job in their performances. Von Uckermann’s performance of Ventura reminded me of Alfonso Herrera’s performance of Tomas Ortega in FOX network’s canceled 2016 horror drama series, The Exorcist. It’s funny cause it was a trivia on the series’s IMDb page that Herrera and von Uckermann both co-starred together in the 2004 teen musical telenovela, Rebelde, while also playing exorcizing priests in separate dark fantasy drama series.

 

For the Kent test, Diablero has strong representation for women of color in season one with a whopping 7 points. 3 out of 4 of the women of color on this show are not walking stereotypes. The leading women of color have their own individual plots; none of the women exist solely as a support system for the men; none of them prop up white women; none are sexualized, and none are sacrificed. If anyone can correct me, that would be appreciated, but I see Nancy, Keta, Marianna, and Mama Chabela are all women of color. All of them interact with other women of color whom they are not related to. Paulina and Thalia might have supposed to be women of color, but both of their actresses look white.

 

Diablero was a series recommended to watch on Twitter by a mutual, and when I did, it captivated me right away, but there was this hesitation in me to fully explore it. The beginning feels very ambiguous and leaves you with all sorts of questions, but as you dive deeper into it, you start to understand it, and you just can’t simply take your eyes off it. The visuals, production designs, costuming, visual effects, computer graphics, and special effects are all a treat. It has everything you ever wanted in a dark fantasy series, and I hope it gets its a season two. Go stream the 45-minute, 8-episode Netflix original series now to make it happen! It’s a solid 8.7/10 for me.

 

  1. TITANS – Frontlining DC’s new streaming service, TITANS is an 11-episode, 45-minute original drama series loosely taking after issues 1, 4, 5, and 6 of the 1980’s New Teen Titans comic series created by Marv Wolfman and George Perez. It follows thirteen-year-old, Rachel Roth (played by Teagan Croft), who, after running away from some unfortunate circumstances at home, stumbles upon Detroit police detective, Dick Grayson (played by Brenton Thwaites), after a tumultuous experience in the city. These two strangers have no real reason to bond, but they travel cross-country trying to find a safe place for Rachel until a woman by the name of Kory Anders (played by Anna Diop) puts them on the right track. With the late addition of Gar Logan (played by Ryan Potter), this unlikely group of misfits soon discover there is a nefarious cult targeting Rachel with the plans of bringing hell on Earth. Created and developed by Akiva Goldsman (Star Trek: Discovery, Fringe), Greg Berlanti (Arrowverse shows; Love, Simon), and Geoff Johns (Aquaman, Blade: The Series), the first season was executive produced by Goldsman, Berlanti, Johns, Greg Walker (Vegas, Without A Trace), and Sarah Schechter (Pan, Deception); produced by Robert Ortiz (Salvation, Stolen), Tom Flores (The Shannara Chronicles, Queen of the South), Jennifer Lence (Arrowverse shows, All American), Carl Ogawa (Arrowverse shows, Riverdale), and Christiana Hooks (Queen Sugar); and written by Johns, Walker, Goldsman, Marisha Mukerjee (Quantico), Richard Hatem (The Gates, Miracles), Bryan Edward-Hill (Ash vs Evil Dead), Gabrielle Stanton (Haven, Grey’s Anatomy), and Jeffrey David Thomas.

 

Despite particular quirks here and there, TITANS had a solid first season. The character focus of the season was on Dick, but the plot focus of the season belonged to Rachel. This pushed both Kory and Gar to the back, but this didn’t mean Kory wasn’t an essential key to unlocking the season as a whole. She was a critical part of the season, but not in the way most people wanted her to be. The show touched on heavy topics such as childhood neglect, child sexual abuse, domestic abuse, family death, and complex trauma. It also included some rather inappropriate tropes such as the disfigured villain trope in the sixth episode and caging characters of color such as in episode seven. The most striking part about this season was how it incorporated the beginning of the “Terror of Trigon” arc in New Teen Titans in a modernized take where the simplistic storyline offered in the comics was grounded in real-world scenarios, and the more memorable characters were assigned new roles that parallel their comic counterparts. Though some say the writing is messy or even bad, I believe the writing carried the production. The show set itself apart from original comic while still managing to incorporate aspects of it.

 

For the Kent test, TITANS season one has sound representation for Black women (only) with a whopping 6 points. Kory Anders is the leading woman of color in the series, but she is not the only one in the show. There are background women of color that add to the narrative of the story in their own way. Kory is not a stereotype; she has her own narrative; she does not exist to be a emotional support character for any male of the series; she is not sexualized, and she does interact with a few women of color. She does, however, share half her arc propping up a white girl, and she is killed off in a dream world for the sake of a white man’s development.

 

The acting quality for the show was all over the place. The best performances came from Diop, Potter, Rachel Nichols, Reed Birney, Alan Ritchson, and Tomaso Sanelli. Diop stunned in every scene she was in. Her character was very multifaceted and hid her pain with a mask, and Diop delivered. Potter was not given much heavy material to work with until the late half of the season, but when it came, he really did make my heart hurt. Birney gives a memorable performance as Doctor Adamson–mysterious, bone-chilling, and alluring. Nichols does her best to portray a severely traumatized and lost woman who can’t help but be susceptive to a charismatic and conniving man. Ritchson also played a multifaceted character hiding deep trauma with a pseudo-macho presentation. His best performance came from the ninth episode of the season. Sanelli also stunned playing a deeply hurt and emotionally bruised child caught in the middle of two worlds. His best episodes were the third and seventh episodes of the season. The second-best performances came from the Curran Walters, Conor Leslie, Lester Speight, Elliot Knight, Melody Johnson, Meagan Fay, and Rachael Crawford.

 

TITANS was certainly a show with much trendy, hot debate with unflattering costume leaks, strange marketing, and inconsistent official information. It was a show that I guess would be messy for its first season, and I was correct. Despite the wild, wild rollercoaster ride for this 2018 season, the one thing I am thankful for about this show is the writing and the potential it holds for the characters of color. It may not have prioritized them in this first season, but I saw seeds planted for later development, and I hope the writers are serious about that. It wouldn’t be fair to have such a captivating show yet lackluster treatment of its characters of color. It disappoints in being an independent, online-platform exclusive show that has basic cable-esque production values, but the fight choreography and the writing are two of the strongest parts of the show. Catch the series on the DC Universe platform in the U.S and Netflix for international fans. Season two coming Fall 2019. This was a solid 8.7/10.

 

  1. Cloak and Dagger – Based on the Marvel Comics superhero duo created by Bill Mantlo and Ed Hannigan in 1982, Cloak and Dagger is a 10-episode, 45-minute speculative fiction drama following the worlds of Tyrone Johnson (played by Aubrey Joseph) and Tandy Bowen (played by Olivia Holt) in the broad city of New Orleans, Louisiana. Not yet recovered from his brother’s wrongful death at the hands of a police officer, Tyrone makes it his goal to somehow expose the cops responsible, but it’s his vengeful emotions that frightens his mother, Adina (played by Gloria Reuben) and pushes away his father, Otis (played by Miles Mussenden). On the other side of the city, practically homeless and without parents, Tandy just can’t get over witnessing the death of her father, and like her mother, Melissa (played by Andrea Roth), she finds a coping mechanism in running away and taking the happiness from others. Our two protagonists’ very different worlds are connected by one faithful night that not only gave them their abilities but has since been guiding them along a path and given them the choice to make their own decisions. Also starring in this season include Noëlle Renée Bercy, Emma Lashana, and J.D. Evermore. The series was created by Joe Pokaski (Heroes, Underground), and the first season was written by Peter Calloway (Under the Dome, Legion), Christine Boylan (The Punisher, Castle), Jenny Klein (Jessica Jones, Sacred Lies), Niceole R. Levy (Shades of Blue, Allegiance), Ariella Blejer (The Gifted, Sharp Objects), Marcus J. Guillory (Tales, The Breaks), J. Holtham (Pitch), and Dawn Kamoche (Sharp Objects, The Gifted); executively produced by Jim Chory (Heroes, Netflix Marvel shows), Alan Fine (Guardians of the Galaxy, Ant-Man), Stan Lee (Doctor Strange, Black Panther), Jeph Loeb (Heroes, The Gifted), Pokaski, Joe Quesada (Marvel Netflix shows, Avengers Assembled), Karim Zreik (Legion, Marvel Netflix shows), Gina Prince-Bythewood (Shots Fired, Love & Basketball), Tom Lieber (Marvel Netflix shows, Dominion), Boylan, Calloway, and Lori Etta-Taub (All American, Reality Bites); and produced by Klein, Mary-Margaret Kunze (Daredevil, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.), Margaret Scarpello (Marvel Netflix shows), Blejer, Darren Frankel (Marvel Netflix shows), Kamoche, Levy, and Wendy Willming (Agent Carter, Agents of S.H.E.L.D.).

 

I don’t have much solid critique on the writing because most of it would be way above what I know. It’s perfectly paced. It’s emotion-heavy. It doesn’t dwell too far into the violent side, but that is featured. The messages put out there are actually surprising to me considering this is a Disney-owned series. The running theme of this entire season, beyond being staunchly anti-police brutality, was “corporations are killing the planet.” It didn’t blame people. It blamed the corporate leaders running the company, and it emphasized the mental and physical effects these executives put on the lower-management workers. I think the only concern of mine will be if they learn the terminology and culture surrounding rootwork. New Orleans has Voodoo, and there’s a second southern distinctive practice called rootwork, hoodoo, or conjuring. If the show goes the route of Voodoo, it’d be hard to do because Voodoo is not magical; it’s ancestral. Because this show is supernatural, hoodoo should be the choice of practice for the aunt and possibly Evita, if she turns to that. This is one of the rare shows that left me without any solid critique.

 

For the Kent test, we have two main Black women and two recurring women of color (one Black, one Asian). It has multiple Black women in the background. With a score of seven, Cloak and Dagger has strong representation for women of color for its season debut. While none of the women have their own storylines just yet, they aren’t stereotypes; they aren’t solely placed in the show to be emotional support systems for men (i.g that is not Adina nor Evita’s purpose for Tyrone); they don’t prop up the white women (i.g Mina does not prop up or progress Tandy); none of them are sexualized; none of them are sacrificed, and they all interact with each other or with other background women of color at some point.

 

I would have to say the strong performances for me would be Reuben, Marqus Clae, Maceo Smedley, Holt, Joseph, Lashana, and Evermore. I don’t tend to acknowledge when actors who play antagonists impress me, but Evermore did a good ass job in his role. Smedley stunned playing baby Ty! Clae and Smedley were really good together, and they really tugged at the heartstrings in the flashback scenes and hearing Clae’s voice as Billy during those recorded phone clips. Reuben brought me to tears multiple times. The second strongest performances for me are Mussenden, Roth, Jaime Zevallos, Ally Maki, Angela Davis, and Bercy. Mussenden and Roth played hella convincing detached parents who drowned their trauma into drugs. I had so many mixed feelings about their performances. I was very remorseful and sorrowful for them, but they also angered me with how detached they were from their children. Davis’s voiceover describing the divine pairing and her ability to portray a mysterious and watchful woman really wow’d me. Something that I loved is that her character, Chantelle, doesn’t know it all, but she has some more knowledge on the divine pairing from her connection with her ancestors. I love how Davis portrayed with so little.

 

Cloak and Dagger is definitely one of Marvel’s most stellar drama series. It’s slow paced and emotionally-driven; something multiple people complained about, but something I thoroughly enjoyed. The production team behind it, the writers, and the acting are all top notch. They have a clear idea that they know what they’re doing, what they want to say, and how to say it. My only wish for season two is to feature more prominent dark skin women, and I’d like a really good storyline for the Fusiliers and their connection to rootwork! Catch the show on Freeform and Hulu. Season two premieres April 7, 2019. My final score for this show is an 8.9/10.

 

  1. All American – Loosely based off the life of football athlete Spencer Paysinger (who acts as a consulting producer along with Dane Morck, Mike Herro, and David Strauss), All American is a 45-minute, 16-episode drama series about sixteen-year-old Spencer James (played by Daniel Ezra) and his lifechanging experience when he’s asked to play for Beverly Hills High way across town by the well-known Coach Baker (played by Taye Diggs). Also starring in this series includes Bre-Z, Karimah Westbrook, Michael Evans Behling, Samantha Logan, Greta Onieogou, Monet Mazur, and Cody Christian. Created by April Blair (Hart of Dixie, You), the first season was executive produced by Blair, Nkechi Okoro Carroll (Rosewood, The Resident), John A. Norris (One Tree Hill, Deception), Greg Berlanti (Everwood, Dawson’s Creek), and Sarah Schechter (Pan, Arrowverse shows); produced by Robbie Rogers, Lori-Etta Taub (Reality Bites, Cloak and Dagger), Ryan Lindenburg (God Friended Me, Riverdale), Carl Ogawa (Riverdale, Arrowverse shows), Ed Tapia (Hap and Leonard, American Crime), Jennifer Lence (Blindspot, Arrowverse shows), and Jon Wallace (Wedding Band, Arrow); and written by Blair, Caroll, Herro (One Tree Hill, American Woman), Norris, Strauss (One Tree Hill, American Woman), J. Stone Alston (Red Butterfly, Sell Out!), Michael Bhim (Impulse, Above), Natalie Abrams, Cam’ron Moore, and Jameal Turner (Being Mary Jane, Rosewood).

 

All American had around nine plotlines that were balanced really well for such a huge cast focusing on such complex issues. One of the overarching plotlines was Spencer’s assimilation into Beverly Hills High, and this spawned most of the smaller plotlines for the other characters including Coop’s struggle to find meaning in herself and her subsequent subscription to a dangerous world; Jordan’s struggle with being the second and his fight to regain confidence in himself; Olivia’s confronting the issues that drove her to her lowest and making up for her behavior; Asher’s struggle to deal with his emotionally abusive reality; and the secret that Billy and Grace hold over Spencer’s head that slowly creeps out. I think, at the heart of this series is community healing. It’s the one thing that never stops being a solution. Spencer bridges the gap between the Black residents in the wealthy area and the Black residents in the neglected areas. He reminds Jordan and Layla of their blackness. He puts his life on the line for Coop (and she does the same for him). There’s never a dull moment in this show, and it’s definitely one of the shows with the strongest writing. I feel it could be better, but it’s bound by the de facto rules of the network. One thing I love the most about it is that colorism is definitely discussed, drug addiction is discussed, institutional racism is discussed, nepotism is discussed, and family abuse is discussed. The couples are also really well done between Coop and Patience (played by Chelsea Royce Tavares), Olivia and Chris (played by Spence Moore II), and Spencer and Layla. A few things I didn’t like about the show only pertained to minor quips such as the lackluster language on romance (e.g amatonormativity; Layla and Spence’s conversation before they made out was very cringe when they discussed they “wanted to be more than just friends.”) and the seeming erasure of Asher’s previous actions to further his redemption arc (e.g racist behavior, slut-shaming, taking advantage of someone at their lowest point). There aren’t much more issues about the show. Objectively, it can border on overloading the Black women with emotional violence and pain, but because the showrunner is a Black woman, I trust her judgment that she knows what she’s doing.

 

For the Kent test, All American has four major Black women in prominent roles and several Black women in recurring and background roles. With a whopping 8 points, this show has strong representation for Black women in season one. No one is a trope; everyone has their own arc; no one purely exists to be emotional support systems for the men (albeit, they’re pushing it with Olivia’s dynamic with Asher); none of the characters are there to prop up the white women; no one is sexualized; multiple of the women talk to each other, and none of them are related, and no one is sacrificed in the show.

 

For my favorite performance, I will say Ezra, Westbrook, and Bre-Z did absolutely amazing all season. Logan’s best performance was in episode twelve. Kareem J. Walker, Chad L. Coleman, Brent Jennings, Jay Reeves, Demetrius Shipp Jr., and Spence Moore II had outstanding performances in their roles. They were top tier. Asjha Cooper was only present in two episodes, and Rigo Sanchez was present in one episode, but I thoroughly enjoyed their brief time in the series. I think everyone shined in their own way and created believable characters, but the ones I listed specifically impressed me the most.

 

All American has a very cliched pilot, but the actual show is beyond amazing, and it’s a case of a rare show on the CW network with strong writing, strong performances, attractive cast, and good messages. The fact that it struggled to get views during its run, and that it has to resort to using the white boy as a means for a stable fanbase is… really sad, because this show is hella good. It deserves so many seasons. Please watch the show. It’s out on Netflix. Let’s get it renewed for season two.

 

  1. Step Up: High Water – Created by Holly Sorensen, Step Up: High Water follows the Baker twins, Tal and Janelle (played by Petrice Jones and Lauryn McClain respectively), as they are uprooted from their home in Ohio to live with their Uncle Al (played by Faizon Love) in Atlanta, Georgia. With this comes the eventual interest in the prestigious dance academy, High Water, and we see which twin is more deserving of acceptance into this academy and which struggles with their destiny. Also starring Marcus E. Mitchell, Terrence Green, Kendra Oyesanya, Eric Graise, Carlito Olivero, Jade Chynoweth, Naya Rivera, and Ne-Yo. The first season was executive produced by Sorensen (Make It or Break It), Jenna Dewan (Step Up, The Resident), Adam Shankman (Hairspray, A Walk to Remember), Channing Tatum (21 Jump Street, Magic Mike), Jennifer Gibgot (The Pacifier, Hairspray), Meredith Milton (Step Up franchise), William H. Brown (Sahara, Uncle Buck), Bryan H. Holdman (Pretty Little Liars, The Vampire Diaries); produced by Salli Newman (Chasing Life, Greenleaf), Andrew Schneider (Comrade Detective), Dave Lifshin (666 Park Avenue, Greenleaf), and Albert T. Dickerson III (Greenleaf, The Wannabes Starring Savvy); and written by Holdman, Brown, Rochée Jeffrey, Thembi Banks, Jerica Lieberman (Mistresses, The Dead Girls Detective Agency), Molly Margraf (Mistresses, The Dead Girls Detective Agency), Delondra Williams (Rise of the Zombies, Z Nation), and Hadjii (Somebodies, House of Payne).

 

The season storyline had to be one of the most real. I have conflicting feelings about Janelle’s fate, but it was done so beautifully and realistically. I love that about it. Something I was so anxious about in the earlier parts of the season was relieved in the late half of the season. The writers know their shit, and I applaud that. I mean, the only thing I’d change is not to make King pine after Poppy and do that cringe serenade thing to win her over. I don’t like friendzone storylines, and King was too interesting of a character for him to be reduced down to that. The writing has this good amount of cheesy with hearty moments. They prioritized dancing more than writing, and I respect that. I would love to see some more queer dance groups and strippers in season two.

 

For the Kent test, Step Up: High Water scores an 8 with strong representation for mostly Black women. Some of the leading Black women on the show include Collette, Poppy, and Janelle. There are background women of color, mostly Black women, who interact with these women. None of these women are stereotypes; they all have their own arcs; none of them are there to prop white women or become emotional support mules for men; none of them are sexualized (well, when it’s done, it’s done on their time); no one is sacrificed; and they interact with each other and the women of color in the background (none of them are related).

 

I’ve done a full-series review for this show before, but I will reiterate that my favorite performances from this show (acting-wise) have to be Jones, Love, Rivera, Oyesanya, Graise, Mitchell, Olivero, and Terayle Hill. I felt like everyone else had stronger dancing. My favorite performances (dance-wise) were McClain’s, Oyesanya’s, Graise’s, Olivero’s, Rivera’s, and Jones’s dances. Raquel Antonia also stunned me both acting-wise and dancing-wise. I applaud Cruz Abelita in his role. He did well. Acting is not the strongest point in this show, but that’s the point because it’s a dance drama. What some of the performers lack in acting, they make up in dancing.

 

The trailers and the pilot did it no justice. It did entice me because of the actors chosen, but it still looked objectively cringe. Once you get into the second and third episode, and it’s like you can’t stop watching. I truly love this show because it takes common tropes and flips it on its head. Step Up: High Water is a 10-episode, 60-minute dance-based, contemporary drama series distributed by YouTube Red. Season two released on March 20, and it’s available to stream now (first episode is free!). My personal score for the show is 8.9/10.

 

  1. The Chi – Created by Lena Waithe, The Chi is a 50-minute, ten-episode contemporary drama series following the aftermath of four characters after the domino effect of gang violence and deep-seated grief: Brandon Johnson (played by Jason Mitchell), Ronnie Davis (played by Ntare Guma Mbaho Mwine), Emmett Washington (played by Jacob Latimore), and Kevin Williams (played by Alex R. Hibbert). The first season was executive produced by Waithe (Master of None, Dear White People), Common (Burning Sands), Derek Dudley (Meet the Blacks, The Last Two Lovers at the End of the World), Rick Famuyiwa (Dope, The Wood), Aaron Kaplan (A Million Little Things, American Housewife), Elwood Reid (The Bridge, Cold Case), Shelby Stone (Lackawanna Blues, Bessie), Adam Glass (Supernatural, Criminal Minds: Beyond Borders), and David Rodriguez (Animal Kingdom); it was produced by Barry M. Berg (Clueless, Scream Queens) and Erin Mitchell (Ozard, Cold Case); and it was written by Justin Hillian (I’m Dying Up Here, Superstore), Marcus Gardley (Z: The Beginning of Everything, The Exorcist), Casallina Cathy Kesakye, Glass, Reid, Floyd, Dime Davis, Mike Flynn (Queen Sugar, Rush), and Sylvia L. Jones.

 

This is another one of those series where I can’t critique the script because I honestly have nothing bad to say about it. It’s the type of series you can take at face value, or you can find the multilayered meaning in every scene. I mean, I had one minor quip which was I wish they’d tone down the cussing with the kids, but I think this is a solid series. Any critique necessary wouldn’t be coming from me. It’s an emotionally driven, hearty series, and the writing is the strongest (coupled with the beautiful performances and gorgeous scenery). Seeing the culture of Chicago has to be one of my most favorite things about this show. It’s well-intertwined in the series. It’s about community healing, and the characters take a while to get there. The focus on the series is the emotions of the characters, and you really have to take into the flaws of our mains.

 

So, the show centers on men and boys, but that doesn’t mean that it can’t pass the Kent test. It scores an 8 with strong representation for Black women in season one. The women on this show are not stereotypical, have a small plot of their own that interconnects to the bigger picture, are not reliant upon men, white women aren’t even in the show, none of them are sexualized, they do interact with each other (and not all of them are related), and none of them sacrifice any part of themselves. Despite being a male-focused show, it still passes the Kent test because it was created, written, and handled by multiple women.

 

Jahking Guillory’s performance in the pilot was the first thing that struck me about this series. Mwine’s performance the entire season also rattled me. Rattled being good. He was the most memorable performance for me. Mitchell, Hibbert, Shamon Brown Jr., Michael Epps, and Barton Fitzpatrick were also astounding performers in the season. Sonja Sohn, Yolonda Ross, Steven Williams, and Common were also some favorites of mine. I don’t have much to say than this is a cast of solidly strong actors. Like, even the kids. They were all strong. There was no weak point here.

 

The Chi was a show I wanted to get into because the aesthetics and the casting interested me. I know, something so trivial drew me in, but it was such a pretty show. Plus, Famuyiwa and Waithe were involved, and I really wanted to watch to see what they could come up with. I was not ready when I started the pilot. I had to put away my need for feel-good shows and take a critical eye with this show. It’s heavy. Very heavy. I feel like All American could be like this if it were on a network that would let it. I also think about Cloak and Dagger with this show. Some of the superior shows to come out in 2018. The Chi, which premieres on SHOWTIME, will have a season two premiere on April 7, 2019. My score for this show is a solid 9/10.

 

  1. Black Lightning – Created by Salim Akil, Black Lightning is a superhero family drama series based off the DC characters created by Tony Isabella and Trevor Von Eeden in 1977. The series follows Jefferson Pierce (played by Cress Williams) as he realizes there are limits to protecting the ones he loves from the dangers of the world and contemplates picking up an old mantle he put down years ago with the help of his trusted companion, Peter Gambi (played by James Remar). His youngest daughter, Jennifer (played by China Ann McClain), stumbles into something way over her head that endangers her and her older sister, Anissa (played by Nafessa Williams). Something is awakened in Anissa, and we see the parallels between Jennifer and Anissa finding themselves amidst their traumas and shook up worlds. Also starring this season Christine Adams, Marvin Jones III, and Damon Gupta. Season one was executive produced by Akil (The Game, Love Is_), Mara Brock Akil (Being Mary Jane, Girlfriends), Greg Berlanti (Everwood, Dawson’s Creek), Sarah Schechter (Arrowverse shows, Deception), Charles D. Holland (The Quad, Profiler), Jan Nash (Without A Trace, Rizzoli & Isles), Oz Scott (The District), Pat Charles (Iron Fist, Bones); produced by Robert West (Idiotsitter, Rebel) and Adam Giaudrone (Being Mary Jane, Five Points); and written by Giaudrone, Melora Rivera (Being Mary Jane, Love Is_), Jake Waller (Being Mary Jane, Workaholics), Charles, Nash, Holland, Lamont Magee (The Quad), and Keli Goff (Being Mary Jane).

The thing I love most about season one is the recurring theme about family and community. It’s not just biological family that’s stressed as evidenced by Jeff and Gambi’s dynamic, Tobias and Syonide’s dynamic, Jennifer and Kiesha’s dynamic, Jennifer and Khalil’s dynamic, and Anissa and Chenoa’s dynamic (the latter two are romantic relationships, but at the heart of them are their platonic bond). It’s always about what the community wants, expects, believes, and sees Black Lightning as, or the police culture, or whatever major event. And the community is very divided sometimes, but certain things they can agree on especially pertaining antiblackness. My favorite thing about this show is how it warps the dated, fantastical comic adventures Isabella created for the characters with modern issues and historical issues that Isabella wouldn’t have otherwise known about or had the perspective needed to tell (And, man, he did amazing on this comic series!). I think another thing I love about the show is how it plants seeds for later development. So, I do like a lot about this show, but some things it can majorly improve on is avoiding the pilot dialogue (e.g usage of “fast” to describe teenage girls especially coming from Lynn, who’s characterized as an understanding mother throughout the season, and Anissa, who is a progressive, social activist that understands how words like that affect her and her sister) and the treatment of non-main women. We see guest and side characters who come on this show, add something to the narrative, then die. The ones who seem to come back are the men. The women stay dead (except in hallucination if needed). I feel this can be improved, but this would require hiring more than two women in the writer’s room. Something else I didn’t like was the rapid decline in Chenoa and Anissa’s relationship. I felt that was rushed in order to start Anissa’s dynamic with Grace. To be honest, I felt that could have been done way better. Though I get the idea that queer relationships don’t seem to last (due to heteronormativity), Anissa and Chenoa’s relationship was established in the show that it was based off emotional reciprocity and trust. They were vulnerable and open to each other. They didn’t seem like the type to break up cause one was dancing non-sexually with another woman, but what happened was Anissa was dancing ON another woman (which is perceived to be sexual). That seems inconsistent with Anissa’s wants and desires for her relationship. We saw her stress how she wanted to be more for Chenoa because she felt like she wasn’t giving her girlfriend the same energy she was given, so her solution to that is to sexually dance on another woman? Inconsistency.

 

The Kent Test: With 8 points, Black Lightning holds strong representation for Black women. None of the women are stereotypical. Every leading woman have their own arc. None of them hold down men, nor do they prop up white women. None of them are fetishized or sacrificed. They do interact with other women of color especially ones who are not related to them. It’s obviously this show has strong representation because of who is helming it. The other issues I mentioned earlier aren’t minimal bar-type issues like the Kent test presents.

 

I think Adams, Nafessa Williams, and Jones III might be my favorite performances out of the main cast. Jill Scott, Skye P. Marshall, Charlbi Dean Kriek, Yolanda T. Ross, Tracey Bonner, Dabier, Edwina Findley, Caleb T. Thomas, Shein Mompremier, and William Catlett were the best recurring and guest stars on the show. I feel like Cress Williams and McClain might have had difficulties adjusting to their roles because though they had astounding performances, it felt out of sync (in a way) in the first season. I’m not doing a review on season two for this article, but their performances improved tremendously in that season.

 

Black Lightning is such an emotionally-driven, much-needed, warm show. There is finally a family (generational) superhero show with dark skin Black actors in leading roles who are all complex and nuanced. There is a dark skin Black lesbian who is fully developed with several aspects to her identity beyond being a lesbian (but we do get to see her romance life). The 13-episode, first season aired in January 2018, and the 16-episode, second season aired in Fall 2018. The third season will probably premiere either Fall 2019 or early 2020. Please stream this 45-minute show on Netflix! It’s absolutely lovely. My final score is a 9/10

 

  1. Pose – Created by Steve Canals, Ryan Murphy, and Brad Falchuk, Pose is a historical fiction drama series taking place in 1987 and heightening in on two distinct cultures: the wealthy, Trump-aspiring elites, and the homeless and poor Black and brown trans women and gay men. Struggling in a world that already hates them, many Black and brown queer people turned to sex work and drug dealing (if not low wage jobs) to make up the culture that would unite the community and create their own class of elegance, poise, fun, and competition: ball culture. Season one was executive produced by Murphy (Scream Queens, American Horror Story), Falchuk (Glee, Scream Queens), Nina Jacobson (Diary of a Wimpy Kid and Hunger Game franchises), Sherry Marsh (Vikings), Alexis Martin Woodall (American Horror Story, Glee), Brad Simpson (Boys Don’t Cry, Diary of a Wimpy Kid franchise), Canals (Dead of Summer), and Silas Howard (By Hook or By Crook); produced by Tenase Popa (American Horror Story, Scream Queens), Lou Eyrich (Nip/Tuck, Glee), Erica Kay (Mr. Robot), Janet Mock, Our Lady J (Transparent), and Todd Nenninger (Mr. Robot, Feud); and written by Canals, Murphy, Falchuk, Mock, and Our Lady J. Starring MJ Rodriguez, Dominique Jackson, Billy Porter, Indya Moore, Ryan Jamaal Swain, Angel Bismark Curiel, Hailie Sahar, Angelica Ross, and Evan Peters.

 

I don’t feel comfortable critiquing the plot because there is nothing I feel this show needs to improve on except re-prioritize the Black and brown characters. Even that, the focus on the white characters was an intentional thing because it’s supposed to parallel the classes of the white elite with the most marginalized class of Black and brown people. I would have nothing to add because this show taught me so much, and gave me a feel-good series where I could not only see Black trans women in beautiful gowns and gay men of color performing a variety of dance styles but also finding comfort and family in people like them. Everyone got development. We got to see the flaws and the strengths of every character. Everyone hit their lowest point. Everyone built back up and reunited with people who loved them most. I have nothing bad to say. I mean, I would hope to see some Black trans lesbians, and Black trans men next season, but like, this was a season focused on those most impacted by the Reagan-era and Trump-aspiring elites, so I completely understand why those groups weren’t as prioritized, and honestly, when was the last time you saw Black trans women ever getting a narrative like this? Translucent was one, but it’s washed down because it’s not a network show. Indie series tend to get overshadowed by cable and network shows.

 

Obviously, Pose passes the Kent test with 8 points and sound representation for women of color, primarily Black women.

 

There were so many great performances this season! I don’t know who I love the most. I really loved Rodriguez’s performances because I felt all the emotions from her. Jackson was a major second favorite, and so was Porter. Johnny Sibilly also did great in his role! I had all the tears with his performance with Porter. Swain, Moore, Curiel, and Dyllon Burnside also had some strong performances. So did Ross and Sahar. They were complete favorites. Sol Pendavis also did great. I love him and the other actors who played the judges. I think, Pose definitely had some of the strongest performances I’ve ever seen in a first season.

 

This show is seriously… I’m speechless. The visuals, the costumes, the choreography, the editing, the music and sound editing, the designs, the costuming and makeup, the performances, the writing, the entire production. Everything. Spotless. It’s exactly one it’s my number one debut series of 2018, and I score it a 10/10. You can catch the amazing, 50-minutes, 8-episode first season of Pose on the FX network. Season two is coming soon.