Easily the show’s biggest accomplishment is its treatment of its titular character. Kimmy’s lost 15 years could have easily become a sickening stew of hate-piling onto a character too dumb to function in the modern world. Instead, Fey and Carlock spin and pirouette out of the thought-to-be painted-in corner and force Kimmy to successfully find a home, a roommate, and a paying job in her first day in the city. Sure, she runs into trouble and has her occasional slip-up in regards to the modern world – she calls Law & Order “Law Squiggle Order” and questions after the mythical “Cupertino” her phone’s watch keeps telling her about – but she’s not the buffoonish idiot she could have easily turned into in lesser hands.
And a lot of that has to do with the main relationship between her and Titus. Like elsewhere on the show, there’s a baked-in sweetness to their fast-forwarded friendship that permeates the first six episodes. It’s pure formula, but played and angled in such a way as to feel fresh. Titus is, essentially, the straight-man (no pun intended) to Kimmy’s shenanigan-izer. But their parts, like the show itself, are constantly fluid. Titus becomes the agent of chaos in some episodes (especially a mid-season video shoot gone hilariously awry) and Kimmy shifts into the straight-man mode when assigned to a G.E.D. teacher who’s particularly ill-motivated. Their rushed rapport could have come across as false – “How’d the auditions go?” “Amaaazing! For more information press one.” “Beep!” – but ring constantly and brilliantly true.
Not every joke lands, and not every character is revelatory, however. Carol Kane as Titus’ landlord, and this show’s Kenneth stand-in with her revolving-door drop ins and tangential bon mots, pulls the short straw. Her jokes go on too long, are far too meandering and byzantine – even for this creative team’s standards – and lack any sort of satisfying punch-line. Kenneth’s backstory (dare I say: mythology) excused his oddball behavior, but Lillian’s so far essentially boils down to “the old lady on the stoop.”
I guess I should mention Kimmy Schmidt herself, Ellie Kemper. She may be playing to type here, the same loveable goof she was in movies like Bridesmaids, but there’s an unquenchable effervescence to Kimmy that makes watching the show not only fun but fulfilling. Its world is a harsh crash between childish innocence (she yells “Urethra!” instead of “Eureka!”) and a brutal, NYC reality (her and Titus’ rendition of “Circle of Life” is all but ignored by passers-by and incessant traffic surrounding them). But, as Kimmy proved to her Reverend and captor, and plans to prove to New York, nothing can break her.
Kemper balances the sunny disposition Fey and Carlock wrote specifically for her, but occasional references to her bunker life, even in passing jokes, showcase an ennui and heaviness hiding behind – and no doubt fuelling – the incessant cheer. You feel for Kimmy, laughing with her and, most importantly, never at her. Even her constant salvo of hilariously quotable malapropisms (Hashbrown = Hashtag) never tire, following in the footsteps of the brilliant and underrated Raising Hope in walking the very thin line between annoyance and endearment.
But will you be thinking about such minor quibbles when watching Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt? Well, if you’re into this sort of aggressively un-PC humor, my response to that question is a healthy nope. The show is so fun to watch, so relentlessly optimistic, that even when you fear it may be delving into sitcom tropes – particularly with a hidden-sexuality subplot in episode 5 – it’s hard not to remain high on its brand-specific weirdness while you wait for Fey and company to surprise you yet again (just wait, they will).
It’s a show about a character who has faced a legitimately traumatizing event, and decides to embrace and grow from it rather than let it consume her. The show makes fun of her lack of modern cultural knowledge – “I’ve been Googling you.” “You have? I didn’t feel it” – but not once does it judge her for it. It’s empowering and surprisingly thought-provoking and topical in today’s everyone-knows-everything-in-a-few-clicks culture. Best of all? It’s top-to-bottom funny.
Hashbrown success.
