Sometimes a show can have a theme tune that is so much fun,
you can begin to fear that the actual programme it precedes will never live up
to the expectation. Luckily, Netflix’s The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt
is every bit as silly, fun and poignant as its autotuned opening credits. Not only that, but it’s also a very useful
sequence as it has the dual purpose of explaining the full premise each time it
plays. Kimmy has grown up in an
undergrown bunker, held hostage by the deluded leader of a sadistic clan
(played by a somehow still charming Jon Hamm). Now free, she moves to New York with an
enormous lack of street smarts. For
Kimmy, every disappointing slap in the face that normal life presents her with
is a chance to experience a reality she has always longed for. It’s therefore hilarious.
I had never really been aware of the show until a friend
told me that I reminded him of one of the main characters. Furious that I had been caught out by not
having a watched a show that came up in casual conversation, I then searched
out the programme to get myself up to speed.
However, by this point, I had forgotten which character he had said. But, when I asked him to remind me, he had
since changed his mind and stated that I reminded him of the librarian in Bob’s Burgers, which wasn’t at
all helpful. Though it was probably very
accurate.
Therefore, my viewing of this show is peppered with me
constantly wondering which character I am.
As such, the conclusion I am slowly arriving at is that I am all of
them. In Titus, Kimmy’s failed
actor/singer roommate, I can see a constant need for attention and some
incredible laziness. In Kimmy Schmidt
herself, there’s a bit of naivety and childlike wonder at basic things (as well
as getting them horribly wrong). Add to
that the cynicism of Lillian and the snobbery of Jacqueline and it would seem I
spend each episode thinking about myself.
Holding a gun to my head, which is something I do sometimes to force
myself into decisions (try it), I would have to plump for Jacqueline as my
favourite character. Her withering put
downs, disdain for human relationships and ruthless ambition make her an unrivalled
hero. But all the characters’ lines
mercilessly ridicule our views on gender, wealth, relationships, work and so
many other things that the gun really has been necessary.
My mind keeps coming back to the question as to whether a
show like this could ever be made in the UK.
New York is
the perfect backdrop for the tale of a grown woman having her childhood
expectations destroyed one after the other.
So wouldn’t London be a perfect equivalent? Perhaps the Brits are too dour to roll with
the punchlines that shine through the script in a constant onslaught. Perhaps nobody would want to speak to Kimmy
and she’d be reduced to sitting under a cash machine asking for spare change
when people are only clutching wads of ten pound notes. The world of Kimmy is tragic, but filled with
hope, so it might really only be in New York that this could ever take place.
I should close with a comment on the closing titles, but
this is on Netflix, and the next show autoplays with mere seconds to abort, so
it would seem I’ve been too busy getting sucked unwillingly into the next
episode to notice.
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