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iluvtv · 6 years

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“I Sleep in a Bed but I’m Homeless” and other contradictions in terms

Last month Donald Glover curated a media moment. He hosted Saturday Night Live while his alter ego Childish Gambino simultaneously appeared as the musical guest. All the while (to much social media fanfare) he dropped a music video chock full of divisive commentary on racism in America. In my opinion this wonderfully creative and crucial social commentary rattled the masses far more than I think they should have. I'm startled by the possibility that one could "be here now” and still be surprised that This is America.

Point being though, that during a spring weekend’s naughtiest hours in 2018 Glover did what he did best — worked. And in doing so his art (as it is wont to do) challenged us. In just a little over and hour this legendary genius gave us everything he has to offer. He made us laugh, taught us something and kept up his now signature cocky air. Reaffirming that while he will provide his brilliance for us to share and learn from it is not exactly for us.

In an incredible New Yorker interview by the fabulous Tad Friend earlier this year Glover explains; “If ‘Atlanta’ was made just for black people, it would be a very different show. But I can’t even begin to tell you how, because blackness is always seen through a lens of whiteness—the lens of what white people can profit from at that moment. That hasn’t changed through slavery and Jim Crow and civil-rights marches and housing laws and ‘We’ll shoot you.’ Whiteness is equally liquid, but you get to decide your narrative.” For the moment, he suggested, white America likes seeing itself through a black lens. “Right now, black is up, and so white America is looking to us to know what’s funny.”

But before we go that deep, early in that SNL episode there was his monologue. Through this caricature of himself Glover pokes fun at the man he presents in this interview. By claiming there is "nothing he can't do" while failing at everything, subsequently puking into a clarinet and repeatedly bringing up his rejection from SNL many careers ago, he delivers audiences a humbler version of himself. This is notable because even if the farce is egotistical what he's actually playing is failure. Was this by a cast writer's design to mock his arrogance or did he write every word himself?

Neither would surprise me. After greedily consuming Atlanta’s first season (Hulu why must you wait so long to give me new FX seasons?) and then studying the media image Glover presents I see he is his own anomaly.

Confident, worried, scared, brave, untouchable and sensitive. Through his thoughtful creativity he has (for the most part) been given permission to be whomever he wants.

We all will agreeably, eagerly (and even gluttonously) accept all of it.

He didn’t always believe this would be possible. When he first pitched Atlanta he was certain this wouldn’t be the case at all but FX surprised him. In the New Yorker interview the producers explain:

“The parts that you’re worried we’re going to think are too weird—lean into those.”

From its onset I suppose Atlanta can be read as sad. A sort of devastating drama on race and poverty and violence. And while this is clearly a trap story there is an almost inexplicable, deep seeded sense of satire that feels both simultaneously impossible to pinpoint or ignore.

In imagery and experiences (which more often than not trend more towards metaphors than reality) Atlanta challenges me. I just can’t get enough but I also can't help but feel like most of the time I don't totally get it. And this is just the tip of the iceberg in the long series of anomalies which like Glover himself comprise Atlanta. At the end of the day am I just too white, slightly too old (and more to the point un -hip) or was this confusion just the purpose?

FX Chief John Landgraf explains to the New Yorker, “Donald and his collaborators are making an existential comedy about the African-American experience, and they are not translating it for white audiences.”

There is a consistent underlying dichotomy in all of Atlanta's odd stories and part of it I suppose is an assumed understanding between the white coastal viewer and Glover that we are only partially in on the joke.

Presenting this dichotomy, Atlanta begins introducing Earn (Glover) and Van’s (Zazzie Beetz) relationship which while terribly charming is equal parts fleeting. Seconds into a relaxed and loving scenes their relationship just as quickly turns contentious.

We watch this pattern repeat again and again.

The pilot episode continues in this vein introducing relationship dynamics before revealing a storyline or history.

We meet Earn’s fed up parents. Friendly enough but annoyed that their adult son is always asking for money, oh and also that he doesn't flush.

Earn: "That wasn't me."

Mom: "That was you. I checked. You better start eating some real food and not all these candies and cookies..."

We are introduced to my favorite character, Darius (Lakeith Stanfield) wearing only an apron while baking cookies. He also has guns and a butcher knife.

We witness the first of many racial power dynamics as Earn takes his cousin Alfred’s (Brian Tyree Henry) tape to a white DJ “buddy”, hoping if he can get Al’s alter ego Paperboi radio time he'll be able to convince his cousin to give him work representing Paperboi. It is here we see some dumb white kid front as though he is "hard" using language he would never use in front of any black man he found intimidating. Because Earn is not intimidating. In the face of this obnoxious DJ Earn is unassuming, friendly and essentially desperate all the while ignoring the terrible behavior of a stereotypical white millennial’s crude attempt to impress his "nigga" while completely refusing to throw Earn a bone by spinning Paperboi's first single. It is noteworthy throughout this season just how child like un-intimidting the character Glover has created for himself is.

Later when Earn manipulates things in his own favor he asks an older black janitor if this rude white DJ has ever said "nigga" in front of him.

The janitor is stunned by the very thought!

But this is who Earn is. Friend describes it as such: “Atlanta” broke rules that most viewers hadn’t quite realized were rules. In comedies, jokes are underlined by closeups, but Atlanta’s camera stayed aloof, serving not as an exclamation point but as a neutral bystander. The characters didn’t have histrionic reactions to the problem of the week; they just gave up a little more. Earn was an antihero, as is now customary, but, unlike Don Draper or Walter White or Olivia Pope, he wasn’t an expert in anything. He wasn’t a great manager or a great part-time boyfriend or, for that matter, a particularly promising human being. Curiously boyish in shorts and a backpack, he wasn’t even active, the minimal standard for television characters. He didn’t seem to do or want anything. He just watched and flinched and got yelled at to grow up.”

The episode ends with the show's first of many very obvious forays into existential surrealism. The way Atlanta plays with fantasy is very fresh and new and brave and often completely impossible to fully comprehend forcing me to wonder why I only took a handful of philosophy courses in college?

But aren’t those courses just an antidote of the privileged white youth’s confusion?

That and marijuaina.

Again, Friend addresses this discussing Glover's complete willingness to fail where other black television revolutionaries are wary.

“This sensibility is singular yet recognizable. Just as John Cheever’s epiphanies and apologias were stamped by drink and Paul Bowles’s hallucinatory quietude by hashish, so “Atlanta” ’s vibe is molded by weed. There’s a goofiness to the action, a dreamy awareness that reality is untrustworthy right now, but hold up, try this edible. Recognizing that quality, Lakeith Stanfield told me, “I decided to play Darius as a high version of myself. And now he’s become all the fantastical elements of Atlanta condensed into one person—this gateway to Freakville.”

Half way through the pilot we find Earn on a bus with his sleeping daughter opening up to a well dressed black man in a suit about feeling like a loser. "Am I just there to make things easier for winners?” he asks.

The man sits listening patiently on this bus seat, all the while making a Nutella sandwich. "Just a symptom of the way things are," he explains to Earn "actual victor belongs to those who simply do not seek failure."

He forces a bite of his chocolate bus sandwich on Earn and then just as quickly disappears, only the tub of Nutella remains.

And abruptly the episode closes where it began, realizing the reason why the first scene was so confusing is only because it was actually the end. None of these characters were lying or being intentionally evasive, rather the drama which opened Atlanta had not yet ensued. And while it is still rather unclear, on some level even the whitest and most sheltered kids (those who can comfortably say the N word around very specific audiences) understand this rhetoric just enough and those who grew up in the trap world of Atlanta could probably write their philosophy dissertations on the scene.

As an audience we continue to ride out their drama into episode two. Conveniently, the coinciding moments of Alfred's arrest and his radio debut have vaulted him to instant fame all while housed in the relatively newsless space of jail.

When Darius comes to bail him out even the cops ask if they can pose for selfies with Paperboi. A beautiful moment of social commentary on race, class and most importantly fame.

Meanwhile, not-famous and mostly useless Earn stays stuck in jail which lends itself to one of the saddest satirical series of scenes I have ever seen. Think Orange Is The New Black but really, really funny or maybe really, really miserable and also just so exactly where any of us (even the more privileged white girls) might end up for a few hours after a really, really bad night.

Fortunately I never have but I will take Atlanta at it's (sur)real(ist) word.

When Earn is told by the guard he cannot sleep he is baffled.

“Everyone sleeps."

To which he is told, "If you wanted to sleep you should have thought about that before you came to jail."

This dysfunction is further magnified by the token insane guy who apparently gets locked up on a near weekly basis. While his absolutely pathological behavior at first prompts laughs from the rest of the men waiting in lock-down they also all just sit there and quietly watch as the guards kick his ass and drag him off to solitary.

To the repeat offenders this is normal behavior.

Earn, like myself seems less comfortable with this violence.

Meanwhile, Alfred due to newfound Paperboi fame is suffering his own violent satire.

On a walk through his projects he sees a kid with a toy gun shooting at his friends. They are playing a game of pretend in which the male child is Paperboi.

Alferd observes this. The kid, through clear admiration of his alter ego pretends to shoot down his little girlfriend. She feigns death just as the children's mother comes out to yell at the children, asserting to these small black bodies that they should "just say no to guns"

Overwhelmed, and clearly experiencing a myriad of emotions from the last 24 hours Al approaches the family and argues to the children that "shooting people ain't cool." At first the mother is stand-offish and annoyed at his presence but once he admits he is the very same rapper whom they are make-believing about the mood shifts. Instantaneous hilarity ensues as she is suddenly very interested in this infamous man. Momma comes on hard posing Al with the family for photographs. She is genuine comic relief "now one with my head on yo chest," she says as she snuggles in. And even Al who was out for a walk to escape the fresh madness his single has suddenly created seems calmed -- his comfort level with being viewed as violent has shifted now that it is getting him some pussy.

Likewise, the mother is now completely comfortable with the children playing “guns”, clearly sending the message that fame and more specifically hip-hop fame excuses violence.

This hypocrisy so clearly mirrors that of the prison guards from earlier and sadly represents America’s reality. If everyone from the single Mothers in the ghetto to the police are down with rappers using guns it must be OK, right? And folks were even remotely shocked by Gambino’s music video which debuted nearly two years later?!

The episode closes when Van finally bails Earn out of jail. It is unsurprising really that it is left on the woman to pull through and protect the men. I find that this aspect of American reality is more often acknowledged in African American and other ethnic popular culture than in white. This is too bad really, as it is a remarkable reality which women are tremendously under-appreciated for. I too have bailed a boyfriend out of jail. I watched him walk out of the police station arms in the air, proud of his day. He also never came with me to Salinas to collect the title of my car which I lost to the county in the bail process (its a complicated when you are only 21 and haven't owned anything or held a job for longer than 2 years).

Appropriately, the credits run to Bill Withers' "Grandma's Hands," subtly noting the importance of the matriarch through a beautiful song. This also solidifies Atlanta's role as one of the best television soundtracks I (the generally music ignoramous) have ever bothered to notice.

As the audience grows more comfortable with the odd (yet perfect) stylings of Atlanta we venture into episode three armed and ready to address poverty as it pertains to immaturity. In real life Donald Glover and I are the same age but somehow he plays Earn much younger. Pop Culture Happy Hour Pod Cast discussed this episode at length, pointing out that the pathetic date Earn organizes to impress Van is actually just a very young man's attempt at romance. They argue that this scene would likely play out quite differently for the couple ten years later. Then again, Glover himself might come back at this this theory; pointing out the story he is trying to represent here is "the trap" and the assumption that the only thing which keeps Earn so completely suffocated by an up-selling, self-serving waiter is time is just a white, educated NPR audience being only marginally clear on the concept. I can see both sides to this particular coin while (as a white, educated NPR listener) also continuing to ascertain that Earn's overall behavior reminds me more of my 20 year old sister’s than my clique of 30-somethings (whom I consider millennials only due to some made-up falsehood of a technicality -- we are very clearly The Oregon Trail Generation).

Anyhow, this frozen-in-time youthfulness (as a means to escape poverty while actually perpetuating it) is already well established in our protagonist and immediately reinforced as the episode itself opens with him ordering a kid's meal at a fast food joint. No dice:

“I Didn’t get title of daytime manager by passing out discounts," the proud black girl behind the counter explains.

He begs for a water cup instead and settles on stealing diet coke from the fountain -- eyeing the hispanic janitor with a daring glance. He walks away in his short shorts in the rain and backpack, emphasizing either his pathetic-ness-- or just child-ness.

And as I so often did 14 years ago in the middle of the day he heads to Alfred's where they smoke blunts and play video games.

OK I didn’t play video games but my productivity level was essentially on par.

And somehow while reliving our own boring youths through this mundane existence of an ordinary day audiences are still terribly entertained.

Darius, our scene stealing, wonderful guru of a roommate irons in his bathrobe, pulling a gun out of a cereal box. "Just so you guy's know there's probably a bullet in here somewhere, “ he warns.

A drug selling story arc evolves between Alfred and Darius which in a more mature moment Earn is wary of due in large part to his cousin’s new-found notoriety (but how else are they supposed to make money?) however, because I am a white girl and the drug story in this episode just gets so fucking dark and also I can only bombard you with so much information I will instead focus in on the terrible date which Earn attempts in hopes to assuage Van's whining about his irresponsible behavior.

No dice

She's wary from the get. Even tries to refuse his invite at first but he begs:

“Can I at least buy you dinner and watch from the other side of the room? I can even get one of those corny ass dudes you like to eat it with you.”

He continues, mocking the guys she likes by mimicking her (always a good strategy when you’re trying to prove you are the preferred choice): “‘I love your energy. Your dreads are in a bun’ “

The two accuse each other of being their own worst black stereotypes.

“I’m in a bed but I’m technically homeless and love it,” she mocks back.

They giggle. Something about their terribly unromantic connection is just so terribly romantic. Or maybe I just really, really like when guys make fun of me?

There's a brief scene involving the gun between Darius and Alfred where Darius solidifies himself as my favorite character, absolutely proving unequivocally that the most simple men are also the wisest. He explains to Alfred that his “assumed perversion of the word daddy stems from his own fear of mortality.” sheer and idiotic genius. An utterly true and hilarious savant.

Meanwhile, the date Earn has finagled is not going according to plan. WIth only $63 in his bank account and promises of a decent happy-hour dashed he is just in a hipster restaurant in a bad neighborhood, springing for a valet, with a date who is luxuriously lapping us each and every ploy from their server to raise their check.

When Earn, trying to lower their overall bill in spite of Van's pricey picks asks for a "Miller High Life in a can," the waitress responds,"ooo we've got a hipster!"

Yes, us educated, white NPR listeners sure as fuck did try to appropriate poverty through the hipster movement, didn’t we?

You can get a $17 trotter hot dog at the bar around the way from my house.

Likewise, Darius and Alfred's drug deal has also gone all wrong. They have been led to the middle of nowhere only to find a gang of black men with chains, drinking Hennessy and hanging out in front of a luxury camper van chilling around a campfire. Here the woods are a stark juxtaposition from their familiar life in the projects and yet the forrest is surprisingly more menacing. Nothing safe about unfamiliarity -- particularly when guns are in the mix. However, even with a tied up guy crying in the corner there is this unshakable element of satire, ever present yet so difficult to explain or maybe even understand. An impending doom of hilarity is the omnipresent mark of all Atlanta scenes.

But just as the episode grows darker and all of our protagonists’ immaturity increasingly complicates their situations the resourcefulness these young men have learned growing up without means also manages to save them.

At the end of the day nobody wins -- and the best laugh is when the homeless guy working as the restaurant’s (off market) valet runs into the fancy restaurant to warn a random white man in an expensive suit that his car is being towed prompting the two polar-opposite gentlemen to race outside in excited collusion. This sudden impromptu camaraderie is just a downright hilarious aside.

But in a true test to it’s sitcom roots, Atlanta holds to the rule that come episode four nothing much is really permissible to change so in spite of tremendous havoc nobody really loses. At the end of the day Earn solves the problem of the expensive date by reporting his debit card stolen and Darius and Alfred don't die.

Maybe even the homeless valet got a tip.

In both a sitcom’s writers room and in the trap, everybody's just trying to survive.

The following episode The Streisand Effect continues this exploration of survival. We peer through the lens into fame and notoriety wondering if success built through any means necessary, driven by the sheer desire to survive can ever really be deemed ethical.

Oddly, the querry reminds me of one tackled by a completely socially unconscious show — the Friend’s episode where Phoebe and Joey argue the existence of truly selfless good deeds in The one where Phoebe hates PBS.

The Streisand Effect centers a similar debate through a racially ambiguous asshole internet "celebrity" (aka troll) who causes an all out twitter feud (which Alfred brings to real life). Meanwhile an interesting story line between Darius and Earn play out as the two explore what one’s existence means when you are truly just surviving pay check to pay check.

There are other episodes I love more and will focus more energy into analyzing but here are a few of the very best, most stand-out lines:

Old bartender: "Guy was Smoking a swisher with no weed. He gave me the creeps."

Darius: "Chinese people short because of Genghis Kahn, look it up!" Earn: "In what? The racism book?"

The aforementioned troll (Zan) to Alfred (who is accusing his internet game of being pretty fucked up): "All a gang, we all just hustling"

Alfred: "I have to rap, I'm making the most of a bad situation." Zan: "You’re exploiting your situation. All of us are exploiting to make money"(hilarious scene ensues with Zan filming a paid child to spout filthy rhymes and deliver pizzas).

And if you are interested, this moment is discussed in greater depth on Fresh Air where, Brian Tyree Henry explains what this trap means to him.

We close with Earn teaching Darius that poor people don't have time for investments they need to eat today. This is a poignant moment where their friendship is solidified, poverty is explored and human nature vs. exploitation is left undecided.

Personally, I tend to agree with both Alfred and Zan’s views of exploitation though admittedly Alfred’s actions are certainly carried with far more integrity.

If you are particularly dense but have made it all the way to episode five, Nobody Beats the Biebs, you will no longer be able to ignore the absurdist tactics this show is employing to fuck with our perceptions of race, appropriation, stereotypes and popular music culture.

The episode takes place mainly within a high school gym at a celebrity basketball fundraiser for Atlanta’s Youth. Paperboi has been invited to participate in the charity game and Earn of course attends as “representation”. Noticing a gorgeous successful news anchor there to cover the event, Alfred ditches Earn and sets off to pursue a date (or at the very least an on-air interview). She immediately staves off both advances, letting him know that she knows him as “the guy who shot someone.” He insists that isn't really who he is and invites her to get to know the real him, "I'll let you interview me someplace real fly like Bennihana," he offers to which she retorts that she and her fan base aren't into the “gangster thing”, and blows him off fairly easily as the commotion of "Justin Bieber's" arrival has distracted the masses.

At first I assumed that Justin Bieber was one of the white guys in this entourage but as a feud ensues between Alfred and JB you realize that in the fantastical world Glover has created Bieber is in fact just black. Or at least appears that way to us. After watching the whole episode I can't definitively pinpoint why Glover created this racial fluidity. Was it a point about racial appropriation, common perceptions and stereotypes? Or was he just trying to fuck with his audiences? I can only assume that most of Glover’s surrealist style is designed to achieve all of the above (and more). Anyway, this Bieber who may be just as black in appearance as Paperboi, is definitely not just one in the same. Other than his outward appearance the Bieber Fever is the same douchey, successful, unapologetic and handsome man I assume him to be in real life (admittedly I know zero about Justin). In Glover’s world though he can pee on the floor in front of everyone and the general opinion of him is not even slightly affected. He is the Golden Boy pervious to social optics and to him (much like to the pretty newsgirl) Paperboi is "a nigga who blew other niggas brains out…” although he adds the operative “cool!" to the end of this statement. As the episode develops Alfred's hatred towards this pop sensation grows and they wage war on the court. Afterward Bieber offers a press conference full of "sincere" apologies for the fight. All really just a marketing ploy for his new song called "Justice," (a title with more irony than I care to unpack here).

Meanwhile, Earn and Darius are also confronted by stereotypes and racial profiling.

Earn encounters a successful music agent who mistakes him for a different black man whom she believes destroyed her career. In an attempt to seek revenge on this man she at first is very kind. She invites Earn into an elite circle of producers it is all very posh and excellent for networking and Earn laps it up, happy to play along with her confusion as long as this woman’s racism serves his needs. The rewards are seemingly high enough that Earn can turn a blind eye, joining a very specific brand of self loathing by embracing the fact that he is participating in one of the most frustrating and oldest stereotypes out there: "all you people look the same.” It isn't until she accuses him of undercutting her and pledges to ruin him that he tells her he is not in fact Alonzo to which she retorts. "I'm going to make sure you die homeless." He certainly seems to be on this path.

Darius' day is equally bizarre and yet also totally conceivable. His storyline is so unique I can't help but marvel over where the inspiration came from. It seems safe to assume it must be rooted in someone’s real life experience. Perhaps a news story that was mostly overlooked? I digress, he paints a dog (which it seems worth noting that in addition to being quite the homemaker Darius is a talented artist and his room is full of these supplies). Darius rolls up his painting and goes to the shooting range where he uses his art for target practice. Harmless enough, right? Not quite, a collective panic ensues. A white man calls Darius “psycho for shooting a dog” and tells him he has to leave, to which Darius explains that “a human target is just as specific as shooting a dog.” Which just seems pretty accurate to me. A Mexican guy joins in the bickering, he points out to the white guy that he shoots at Mexican targets. Stating more truth spurs further anger and an uprising is vowed. Darius tries to explain that dogs in his ‘hood are “fucked up (not cuddly pets)” but the range’s manager interrupts the men’s arguing with a shot gun,

“I told you rules before you got here ain’t gunna let you start no shit” he leads out a very patient Darius.

This scene is so fucked up. Its rhetoric on arbitrary rules and categories is so important while remaining on brand with the show’s satirical edge. It magnifies the fact that the laws of a black man with a gun are so, so different than that of a white man with a gun takes a very different and slightly less sinister spin on the all too familiar police shooting unarmed black men storyline. We also get a close look at how Darius is observed and judged. A recurring theme of Atlanta is the simultaneous invisibility and hyper-visibility of the impoverished and minorities.

The episode ends with Black Bieber's aforementioned ”sincere" apology, explaining he's been trying to be too cool lately which has lead to hanging with the wrong crowd. He offers his new-found commitment to christ and uses autotune to premier his new song, Justice. In the back of the crowd, frustrated and over it Alfred returns to his day’s start and gives picking up the anchor another go. She returns with the lesson we’ve witnessed all of our protagonists scrambling to learn for the past 30 minutes” “let me give you some advice, play your part. People don’t want Justin to be asshole they want you to be asshole. You’re the rapper. That’s your job”

So, in sum this episode features….

Black man kicked out of shooting range

Black man mistaken for other black man

Black rapper unable to escape media’s perceptions of murderer in spite of being recognized as an “Atlanta Celebrity”.

All the while a rich white musician is able to chameleon himself into an infallible black superstar for a bit of extra street cred.

There is a lot to dissect here, but I’ll let an ethnic studies course can take it from here...

Episode 6, aptly titled Value is the first one to really feature Van's story and give women a voice. I was immediately interested to see if a woman took the reigns in the writer's room on this one because even the tone is so different.It didn’t take much digging to find this from Joshua Alston over at the A.V. Club.

“Glover started off strong before a single frame was shot by bringing in staff writer Stefani Robinson to assist on the script, the first to give a writing credit to someone whose last name isn’t Glover. It seems like a little thing, but it makes such a huge difference to know that someone with insights about how black women communicate contributed to an episode that mostly consists of black women communicating and miscommunicating.”

It feels easy to proclaim that the tone employed in Value lacks the humorist sensibilities applied to other episodes but I have to wonder if that’s an oversimplification. Perhaps I just found Van's story so horribly relatable (she seems to have the same dumb (re:bad) luck as myself and the series of unfortunate events which befall her here may just feel less satirical when you’ve felt the hardships yourself? Maybe a black man from the trap in Atlanta wouldn't find other episodes this season as funny as I did? Maybe I'm being sensitive? (Though that doesn't really sound like me to be honest). Or, maybe while very, very good this episode just wasn't meant to punch the gut in the same manner a jokey man-centric 30 minutes does. Maybe Glover isn’t ready to tackle female satire. I'm not sure and it seems like all these assumptions could get me in trouble so in the interest of not putting my foot in my mouth (or pulling a Van) I’ll move on....

This episode centers around the drama which ensues when Van's old friend comes into town. Actually, in this case (as is often true with childhood girlfriends) frenemy is a better term. This gal-pal plays companion to NBA players which subsequently allows her to lead a very posh lifestyle. She is baffled by Van's far more humble life and makes her judgements very clear by stating straight off the bat the following three rather insensitive points:

“Sometimes I wish I had a kid and then I'm like ew, no." (preach sista!)

“Back in the day you would have made fun of yourself for still fucking with Earn.”

and

“Black women have to be valuable. NBA players fuck with me because I provide a service. I am worth it. I am cultured, intelligent...."

the implications here are thick and seem to cut very deep.

Anyway, as a passive aggressive fight inevitably ensues Van's girl does eventually bribe her back into frenemy territory, insisting they make up over a joint. They hotbox the bitch’s fancy-ass car and at first seem to be reliving the good old days but as is apt to happen when you hang out with narcissists (particularly in our social media obsessed times) eventually Van finds herself being forced into snapping pic after pic of her social-climbing friend who is dead set on getting that absolute perfect insta-shot. I have zero patience for this behavior. Actually, every girl who has ever made the mistake of forcing me into this game has quickly fallen out of my good graces.

Ultimately, the mess that ensues for Van because she casually decided to hit a joint a few times with her disaster of an old friend is totally comparable to multiple series of my own disasters. Fortunately for both myself and Van (we’re similarly industrious and independent young women) we do manage to pick ourselves up by our bootstraps and move on. But, for a minute suspend your disbelief that I too could create this sort of disaster and let's discuss Van's mess:

She awakens the next morning to a cell phone reminder that today is “drug test day.” This of course prompts an insane rampage as she attempts to figure out where to get “clean urine.” When both Old Friend and Alfred fail her she realizes she has a whole garbage pail full of her baby's diapers. A true renaissance woman Van creates a complicated process to extract the pee and tapes a condom full of her daughter's urine to her own thigh. In a flowy dress she heads off to school (making it clear for the first time that she is an educator of some sort).

The storyline then takes a quick veer from the very normal baby-pee-condom situation prompted by a basketball “prostitute” to a fellow teacher who approaches Van. This woman is beyond frustrated with one of her student’s. A brief aside ensues regarding a black child who has come to school in white face to fuck with his teacher (who is so mad she begs Van to help her deal with him so she "doesn't get arrested for beating his ass,”). It is a sharp return to the previous episode’s discussion of cultural appropriation, reminding viewers how inescapable race wars are for Glover.

Van declines to help her friend, she is on a mission after all. But of course, things don’t quite go as planned. A bit of physical comic relief ensues when she can't untie the condom of pee. She tries to rip things apart with her teeth which of course results in pee spraying everywhere (except of course in the cup for urine sample).

Desperate Van just admits to the principal that she smoked weed.

This is definitely something I would do.

When you’re honest no-one can fault you, right?!

Wrong.

Dissapointed, the principal explains that the county can’t afford quarterly drug tests anyway so after the initial one required for hire the samples aren’t actually sent anywhere.

Of course.

She levels with Van, “everyone smokes weed. The system isn’t made for these kids to succeed and you gotta shake it off somehow. I get it. But unfortunately you’ve admitted your drug use to a government employee and now I have to fire you. To cover my own ass as well as the schools’”

She gives Van a hug and one weeks notice.

Defeated Van, an inexperienced druggie tries to get more weed from Alfred who tells her she's “sloppy as fuck.” Which after the day she has had is just truth.

The episode closes with the same kid still in white face smirking now in Van’s class.

Again, somehow the female battle of race and class explored in this episode feels more sad to me than the male saga we’ve seen play out thus far

The closing shot of the sinister child in white face and my own history is undoubtedly playing into my interpretation. I will admit here that I have two equally stupid stories of being fired for absolutely absurd things that make zero sense. Once for rolling a blunt by request for my boss. A swisher of marijuiana which I didn't smoke and only procured because he asked. Another time a 28 year old woman claimed I was sexually harassing her. In neither case was I truly guilty and yet somehow believed that an overcompensated apology could fix things with the higher-ups. At the end of the day though everyone is just interested in covering their own asses. Again, this probably could be presented far more satirically and at times I am able to give these stories a bitingly funny spin — but not with the regularity one might assume.I suppose what I’m getting at is I know what it's like to essentially be so inexperienced with getting in trouble that you can't tell when to just shut your goddamn mouth. I also think that this assumed guilt is such a female burden. It is a subsequent and frequently overlooked side effect of the ancient historical annals of sexism. Perhaps if we can learn anything from “mansplaining” it is to always just take the position that everyone else just doesn’t get it. But then also just keep our mouths shut.

Episode 7, B.A.N has got to be the most hilarious, perfect, wonderful episode of Glover's premier season (and pretty much of all television of all time). I feel fairly confident saying its everyone's favorite. B.A.N which stands for Black American Network is (simply put) a fictional television episode called Montague; a black spin on a Donahue-esque late night “news” show featuring Alfred as one of it’s guests. The "fake news" premise on this show delves into the complexities of identity in our touchy PC culture and is in its own right more than enough to ensure side gripping hilarity. However, it is the commercials interspersed throughout this episode that really cinch the deal.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

The subject of the Montague episode, “how accepted sexuality is affecting black American Youth and Culture” features a panel made up exclusively of Paperboi and the head of “Trans Issues.” Ummmm..... really? I’m already laughing

Alfred is being called out by Montague and asked to explain a comment he made on twitter, quoted by our host as such: “y’all N words said I was weird for not wanting to F word Kaitlyn Jenner."

He is asked if this makes him transphobic? Alfred is complacent, admitting that while he gets what they're saying she (Jenner) just isn't "important to me".

The white trans expert explains Paperboi is coming from a culture of exclusion and power; the black community has issues with power and masculinity more than transphobia. She calls him out on the layer of fluidity in his raps to which he uses the same line he used in response to the challenges posed earlier by the racially ambiguous internet celebrity, Van: "I'm just trying to get paid." The ultimate premise of this show is, after all, escaping the trap life.

Cut to commercial break.

And here is the gold:

Commercial 1: Black guy in a bodega being up-charged for a can of Arizona Iced Tea. The tagline: Arizona: price is on the can.

Commercial 2: A masquerade party filled with fancy black people drinking Mickey's forty ounce bottles out of champagne flutes. Tagline? Mickey’s: You're drinking it wrong.

Yes! This appeals to all my senses. I remember when I was 19 and 40 ounces, Conan O’brien, Swisher Sweets, 7-11 sandwiches and a bit of homework were evening staples.

Now back to our regularly scheduled programming:

A Montague correspondent is reporting on scene regarding a “trans-racial” black teenager (I kid you not) who self-identifies as, yes, a 35 year old white man. Ummm..... I hope you’re laughing now too.

As a black teenage boy he had always wondered why he wasn't getting the respect he deserved, "then it hit me,” he tells the reporter, “I'm 35 and I'm white."

Obviously.

We cut to scenes of our trans-racial teenage adult pretending the projects are the suburbs of Colorado.

He explains his Mom just doesn't get it. Cut to her explaining, "I'd love to wake up and say I'm Rhianna but I 'aint"

Which as a white woman I’m going on brand with the appropriation I mentioned earlier and I just have to say: “preach sista!” If I get to come back as anyone in my next life I sure as fuck hope its Rhianna. Sometimes I ask myself what would Rhi Rhi do? and then I remember to just do me.

But I digress, our teen’s response to his mother’s dismissal is to explain that they don't "realize race is just a made up thing" and he doesn't believe in labels. Unwilling to accept this “reality” he is presently working on getting (yes) racial transition surgery while also stopping trying to convince others he's not "us". Ummm....

Rather than argue he tries to show his community he is not one of them by doing incredibly stand-up white male things like turning black guys into the cops.

This episode came out years before the recent onslaught of social media documenting black people having cops called on them for doing very questionable things like sleeping in their own dorms but I still challenge you not to be laughing hysterically by this point.

As great as this storyline is though, who can complain when it's time to return to commercials?

First up a commercial break for Swisher Sweets (looks like I too was a trans-racial teenager). In the commercial all the actors are emptying the guts of their swishers to enjoy in between filming sets. Duh.

Quickly though, I want to admit that I am not doing this insanely perfect 30 minutes of remarkability justice —please watch! In the meantime though I return to Montague’s panel….

Paperboi admits to the audience he is afraid of being persecuted by the audience and does not feel comfortable speaking his mind. Our female white expert accuses him of being unable to have intelligent dialogue without spewing profanity (proving his point, of course). Montague continues by asking Al if he hates trans people because of his lack of a father.

If your head is spinning and you’re feeling ready to throw down you aren’t alone but Alfred handles the insanity with unbelievable levels of eloquence. He explains, ”It is hard for me to care about this because no one cares about me as a black man. Kaitlyn Jenner is just doing what white men have done since the dawn of time which is whatever the hell they want. Why should I care?"

He goes on to question where the tolerance is for him?

And yes, this is the crux of it.

It is far easier to speak out against intolerance when you are privileged.

The white expert agrees with his point but as is talk show nature Montague keeps egging for the drama.

All getting a little too real? No worries, we have a commercial to lighten the emotions.

Or is it just more sad truth?

First up we have a commercial reminiscent of the 1-800-psychic infomercials of my youth. A perfect example of selling an ideal to the impoverished rather than a reality, and media assumingThe poor are an easy target as they are so desperate for a solution out of poverty they can easily be taken advantage of. Sadly, gullible.

Or maybe it is me that’s sad and I just don't believe in magic-- perhaps my cynicism is the problem?

A man (I believe the same guy from the bus in episode one) is offering us “the answers we deserve.” He goes on to talk about chakras and crystals and the power to make his customers rich.

"Call now and you get a free juice and Nutella sandwich" he proclaims.

And now I'm even more in love with this episode.

Cut to a Dodge Charger commercial concerning divorce settlements which is too complex to describe but also totally accurate and finally the episode’s piece de resistance -- a fully animated Coco Cruncherz commercial with a “black Trix bunny" being beaten up by a cop because he is trying to steal the kid's sugary morning treat (which is of course just for kids). As the kids plead with the cop to stop he argues that age old tag line Coco Cruncherz is for kids -- harking again back to my youth and Saturday morning cartoon days when the innocent commercials with a rabbit stealing breakfast was not nearly as menacing (or realistic).

And just like that with a seemingly sweet cartoon we have jumped the line from dangerously sinister satire to downright sadness. Nobody wants to see a cartoon cop beat the shit out of a black cartoon bunny especially in front of a bunch of cartoon kids.

And yet its still so funny and important.

Close commercials and we circle back to our black teen dressed like a white man. Alfred can't stop laughing at him "You look like Fellon Degeneres!"

But don’t feel sorry for this misunderstood teen to soon. When the trans expert welcomes him, the kid uses his new platform to spew his own stereotypes, explaining that marriage is meant for a man and woman and men can't turn into women. So while he believes in racial fluidity he is totally close-minded to gender fluidity.

Obviously.

This episode and how it speaks to acceptance of other cultures is fantastic but the commercials and the garbage peddled to lower classes and minorities specifically is crucial. If I was an American Studies High School teacher I think I could develop an entire semester’s worth of curriculum on these 20 minutes.

Episode eight, The Club features our motley crew at a club and clearly miserable about it. As a woman whose personal anthem is George Thorogood and the Destroyers I Drink Alone I couldn't possibly find this more relatable. The only reason why Alfred, Earn and Darius are even at the club in the first place is because Paperboi is being paid for the appearance.

Since I’ve already managed to drone on for close to 10,000 words and supplied an overwhelming amount of both series and personal anecdotes, for this episode briefing I’ll do my best to just take a moment or two for a quick review of a few standout moments and trust that you, dear reader, now have obtained a certain level of Sylvie’s Mind Mastery to elaborate on the now all too predictable consensus: this episode is just as fabulously funny, sad, complicated and littered with omnipresent issues of social status as the next.

And now in side-splitting surrealist summation:

Earn on the dance floor with subtitles for his thoughts: "somebody smells like Wendy's Double Stack.

Darius showing the crew instagrams of a famous guy in the ‘hood who has a very fancy invisible car. Noteworthy: I thought Darius was just gullible at first but I clearly underestimated Glover’s dedication to metaphor. If you’re still confused by media’s dark comedy, magical realism, social commentaries on race (a new and now thanks in large part to Glover a very dominant genre) don't worry so am I.

Earn gets drunk enough to feel powerful and demand the money owed from the owner for Alfred's appearance and subsequently vomits all over him (sounds about right).

Darius has trouble getting through security after he steps out momentarily to blaze. Rather than put up too much of a fight he goes home to eat cereal and play video games (I'm pretty sure we will get married in season 3).

Alfred and Earn go to beat up the club owner for trying to rip them off (by now vomit free). After the boys finally obtain what they are rightfully owed they leave the club, at last drunk enough to be in a decent mood. While laughing and talking about getting food they are startled by gun fire. People start to run but most of the crowd is maimed anyway as a man seated seemingly on nothing floats by (in an invisible car, clearly) and mows down the crowd.

This is so complex -- Donald Glover has completely lost me and yet I am obsessively curious. What does this mean? What does it say about our culture? Did he just think it was funny? Does the invisibility represent the utter bullshit of an expensive car? It must somehow tie back to status and violence but what is he saying exactly? I’m wary to even venture a guess.

Either way, The boys escape to Waffle House for a post mortem with Darius. The men are still drunk and laughing, moods still surprisingly upbeat though if you know anything about Southern Culture the very fact that this restaurant is still serving speaks volumes of the gravity (or lack thereof) of the violent incident. Things shift toward somber though as the local news streams through in the back ground. A story reporting the incident clearly lays suspected blame on Paperboi.

"Fuck the club," says Alfred.

Indeed.

Last year Juneteenth was finally brought into the average modern white person's rhetoric through a "holiday special" for the masses from the very funny (and carefully cultivated to expand mainstream America's mind) Blackish.

Atlanta's take on the holiday is of course slightly more subversive. Certainly due to its non-network and later time slot it is more carefree and able to cater less to the masses. Nonetheless, I am certain that Atlanta’s episode managed to bring a bit of awareness even if the show -- unlike Blackish -- made zero attempts to educate the ignorant on what Juneteenth is exactly. It doesn’t matter though, because well... Wikipedia... Glover is smart to assume that his audience is woke enough to use their pricey smartphones to look up whatever they don't already know. Maybe I should learn to employ a similar tactic.

Anyway, on Juneteenth Earn leisurely wakes and bakes in some random girls' bed. When his alarm goes off he is rushed into reality, panics and dashes out. Cut to him and Van in the car where she is very unimpressed that he is stoned which plays out in a passive aggressive fight over the automatic windows in her car. Although we don't know where they are going or why, it is made quite clear that this is an important outing for Van, and that Earn is complicity playing along basically because they have a child together.

They arrive at a fancy house, with a fancy valet and a fancy black woman named Monique answers the door. "happy Juneteenth," she proclaims and then proceeds to humble brag her home "we have so many bathrooms!”

Her white husband Craig makes a grand entrance also proclaiming "happy freedom day."

This is already a very strange party.

Earn retreats for drinks which he orders from a very condescending bartender in an African print bow tie.

"Emancipation Eggnog?" asks Earn "It's June!"

To which the Bartender replies "nigga do I have to explain alliteration to you?!"

Earn takes his beverage and wanders through the looming home finding the white husband, Craig’s office does nothing to alleviate the strangeness. The room is full of black art which Craig painted based on one of his favorite Malcolm X quotes. He explains to Earn that black musical artists are a product for white American consumption and appropriation. He pours them some Hennessy and is baffled that Earn hasn't been to Africa and also does not know where exactly he is from.

Just a side note all this has inspired my own bit of spinoff commercial satire: We all know by now that gene testing companies can provide a great deal of knowledge for White Europeans but usually lack the same insight into an African person’s roots and thusly all their televised advertising features a white person drinking whiskey in the Irish pub of their forefathers or celebrating an ancestors Viking victory. I think it’s high time someone (Preferably Glover and not me because I’m clearly far busier) wrote a commercial with a black person talking about the slave ship he learned his great great grandmother was shackle on etc etc.

Anyhow, Craig employs a specific style of appropriation (seemingly bred from his own white insecurity and guilt rather than ignorance or hate) to black shame the unassuming young man he has invited to drink in his home.

Earn retreats, whispering to Van that the party feels "very eyes wide shut." (Which I myself hadn't yet noticed but once brought to the periphery realize could not be more accurate). Frustrated that Earn hasn't embraced her thing she asks him to “just once pretend that they aren't who they are so he doesn't blow this opportunity” for her.

He responds by bringing on what I’d like to classify as his very best "douche" (I know , I know, this is not the PC term) in order to impress the "very cultural" uptight, wealthy black people this party is full of.

Van seems to be binge drinking which, as is apt to happen eventually leads to a retreat for a bit of an overwhelmed bathroom cry.

Afterward she winds up outside with Monique who finally starts to reveal actual elements of her own humanity. "You don't think I know how crazy my husband is? Treating black people like a hobby?" And there it is — the thing I have been grappling with as I’ve attempted to blog this season of Atlanta over the course of a three-plus month period. At the end of the day it is safe to assume that the best I can really do is just repeat their story and really I have no shot at successful analyzation. Craig’s overwhelming analyzation is enough.

Van asks Monique if she wishes she had someone to confide in to which Monique responds with this equally telling quote. "It is redundant to be both black and sorry in the world."

With nowhere else to go they return to the party to find Craig performing a poetry slam on Jim Crow in front of his black guests’ and this is when shit hits the fan....

The party’s crew of valets find Earn and attempt to give him their sister's underwear to pass on to Paperboi (I can't even begin to understand why a brother would agree to this for his sister and I refuse to believe my ignorance is cultural). The gesture may be gross but it is relevant to this story's evolution because they have outed Earn as Paperboi’s “manager.” Monique's husband increases the awkwardness by bringing up the shooting. Oddly if memory serves this is the first time since episode two that the series opening incident has been directly referenced. Or maybe it isn't weird at all, maybe the whole point of this surreal show is nothing can be taken seriously enough to carry over to the next episode. Isn’t that the rule of thumb for sitcoms anyhow? Needless to say for the time being the fact that Earn is somebody and not the nobody Monique had assumed seems to make her quite uncomfortable to which Earn responds with spite. Fed up by a full day of clear hypocrisy he proclaims the very real observation that “this is all wack, its not real life and they are all dumb.”

Van rather emotionless attempts to drag her partner away, making it clear she knew this all along.

“Stop stunning on me about culture,” Earn shouts. “I’m not going to go back to Africa to discover my roots cuz I’m fucking broke. Stop being so black-able!”

We cut to Earn driving home. He promises Van (with eyes closed next to him) to call Monique in the morning to apologize.

Van opens her eyes demands he pull over and when he does she climbs on top of her man and starts banging him right there in the drivers' seat. In spite of it all they are young, have a baby and I think most importantly she is more attracted to his authenticity than the party's grandeur and faux behavior. The screen zooms out on the lovers in the middle of nowhere with the haunting lyrics of Chain Gang from Sam Cook and nothing seems so well earned and genuine than the freedom these two young black humans have to express their complicated love outdoors in Atlanta in June. Or maybe I'm just being romantic. So far as I know no one is actually allowed to have sex in their cars outside of their own garage.

The season finale like many episodes starts with Earn waking up in someone else’s home. While this is a recurring start I somehow missed the trend until now. Perhaps that is attributable to the fact that our finale stresses the relevance of Earn’s homelessness. In this scene he is uncomfortably situated in a bean bag chair and being chastised for fucking up whomever's house he has crashed at.

“Where's my jacket?" Earn manages to ask a few times but the homeowner is too distracted with the destruction Earn has caused. So Earn leaves and calls Alfred who also has no idea where the jacket is. This is clearly a bummer for Earn but great news on my end. The missing clothing means we have some 20 odd minutes ahead to enjoy Earn retracing the steps of a wasted night. This is a plot premise I have adored ever since Ashton Kutcher spoke to my very sensible 17-year-old- stoner- humor in Dude Where's My Car. I haven't watched the film in years and I know it gets a bad rap but I'd be hard pressed to believe that it doesn't stand the test of time. Since this is Atlanta though the surrealism is even more omnipresent than similar story arcs.

As Earn travels through his home-town (True to its name Atlanta has remained one of the most crucial characters throughout the season) he notices that everyone is dressed as cows. He asks a stranger why the costumes "Free chicken sandwich day nigga,” he’s told

Duh.

So Earn gets his sandwich and in true Dude form heads to the strip club to see if his jacket might be there. Maybe Glover was also a fan of this fine film— we are the same age after all.

A wonderfully awkward and funny scene ensues where Earn tries to describe one stripper who might have his jacket to another stripper.

Largely unsuccessful (how does one describe one generic stripper to another?) the girl is more preoccupied anyhow, her focus being on getting herself cast in a Paperboi video.

Defeated, he defers to last night’s snapchat stories to recall where he went next. Had this technology existed 15 years ago maybe the Dudes also could have found their cars in 27 minutes.

Frustrated by his snaps, Earn instead goes to chastise Alfred for his inappropriate "stories" but Al explains social media is important work. "Rappers make money on appearances" to which Earn reaffirms it is a bad idea.

Darius chimes in "That's black people's number one problem, they don't know how to have fun."

"I don't think that's our number one problem," Earn says to which I laugh out loud.

And then I laugh again just reading my notes on this episode. And then again during editing. I am proud of Earn for this comment. For the most part he tends to be slower than his buddies when it comes to off the cuff quips.

In a stalemate, Earn defers to ridesharing apps. And even though I'm pretty sure Uber does not actually work this way Alfred is able to call last night's car to try to locate Earn's jacket. Yes, this affirms it, late 90's technology or the lack there of is the only thing that made Dude realistic (to which of course I understand it still wasn't at all but... y'know....).

Alfred agrees to pay the 50 dollars the Uber driver demands for the chore but is annoyed that he is back to bailing out his cousin. They sit in the car stoned and discuss Jamaican food in a relatable way that will make any stoner smile.

Then something big finally happens for Alfred. Something that could carry over to season 2 or slide into another dream like fantasy never to be mentioned again (both viable options given the strikingly realistic and terribly fantastical world Atlanta has created). Earn gets a call from a famous rapper, Senator K, requesting Paperboi open for his upcoming tour

But before they can get too excited Alfred says "something here is off" and tries to bail. Just then an undercover van pulls the group over.

The group of black men are then patted down for seemingly no reason and asked if they are tring to purchase illegal things from the driver.

Just a jacket they claim.

A small chase scene ensues and the Uber driver is shot down.

And now there is a dead man wearing Earn's jacket.

Earn looks devastated he tells the cops he left something “in there. Can they check the pockets?”

No dice.

So Alfred tries to cheer him up, gives him a roll of cash -- his 5% on the tour deal, affirms that Earn finally “did good.”

But Earn just awkwardly walks away, defaulting to his defeated little kid look in his short shorts and his backpack. He Stops briefly to dump a rock out of his shoe and then goes to Van's and cooks a family dinner. It is a brief sweet moment, interrupted by a friend stopping by to drop off Earn's key. "I've been looking for this all day." he tells him. The proverbial “car” has been retrieved.

Finally at ease Earn and Van retreat to the couch where he gives her the roll of cash. He really does want to support her. There is another sweet moment as the two lie on the couch laughing at how bad of a drug dealer he would be and she asks him to stay but again like a kid he and his back pack leave.

There is something sweet and promising here. A rarity in this funny but often self-defeating show.

Rather than use his friends and family Earn steps out— finally on his own for the night.

He goes to a storage unit and opens it with the key he spent the day looking for. We finally see that Earn is not entirely without a home. This lonely unit with a couch is what he has and clearly why he is consistently waking in other people's spaces. He takes off his shoe, and we realize he wasn't dumping a rock at all but using his sneaker as a bank. No matter, weather shaking out a pebble or stocking cash taking his shoe off in the street earlier must have been Earn’s first sense of relief this season.

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