American Crime season 3

The key to handling disappointment is managing expectations. Nobody gets it right all the time. I was so in love with the previous season of John Ridley’s Emmy-winning series that I assumed I’d be in for a real treat with season 3. But while there is some merit (it would be hard for Ridley to completely misfire), the season is kind of a mess, and not even a hot one, but rather lukewarm.

The third season takes on abuse and exploitation in its many forms. We have migrant workers on a tomato farm who have to live a dozen people to a trailer, an environment rife with peril. They don’t get paid enough to ever move on because they have to pay for their lavish accommodations, food, and “health care” (sometimes illegal drugs) out of their low wages. Oh, they’re also beaten, overworked, raped, and worse. Being a migrant worker is no picnic. Take that, Mr. President.

The tomato farm featured here has been run by an old man who is now on his death bed. It has been taken over by his oldest daughter, a mean-spirited, manipulative control freak, completely devoid of empathy. When the wife of one of the farm owners, Jeanette (perennial favorite Felicity Huffman), starts to ask questions about the welfare of the workers, she is utterly dismissed and made to feel worthless.

I mentioned drugs before.  Several characters, including Coy, played by last season’s Connor Jessup, are addicted, and this addiction is used as a means of control. (And boy, did I want to see more of Jessup in this, but he was really a more supporting actor here.)

Another form of exploitation is human trafficking and prostitution. Dedicated and caring social worker Kimara (played by Regina King, who won Emmys the last two years for her roles on American Crime) tries very hard to get young men and women out of this lifestyle before they end up dead or in jail, but for her, it’s always two steps forward, one step back. On top of that, she is having fertility treatments to have that baby she’s always wanted. This probably explains her motherly instinct. She is certainly the most likable character in the show this season.

Then there is the French Haitian nanny, Gabriella—played with heartbreaking brilliance by newcomer Mickaelle Bizet—who was brought to America by an extremely unhappy couple (Lili Taylor and Timothy Hutton) to watch their son and to be abused. Taylor’s character is very enigmatic…probably too much so…and Hutton’s character is simply monstrous.

Most of these stories are snapshots with little air time. Much is hidden in terms of what actually happens, with whom, and why. There doesn’t seem to be much reason for this. A sense of mystery? I call it a sense of confusion. The season is only 8 episodes long instead of 10 or 11, like before. Thus, there is little time for story and character development. Every story feels disjointed, in spite of the fact that there is a loose thread running through each. The story of the migrants only takes up the first 4 episodes, while the nanny’s story picks up in its absence for the second half. We get Kimara’s and Jeanette’s stories through all 8 episodes, perhaps because of the popularity of the two actresses, but only Kimara’s story is engaging to watch. Jeanette is a doormat who tries for about a second to become an independent woman, but ends up caving in the end.

Perhaps the most emotional story is that of Luis Salazar, played by Benito Martinez, a Latin American immigrant who has come to look for his missing son. When that story is resolved in what is really the most intense moment in the series during episode 4, everything that comes after is anticlimactic.

This season’s themes are overtly political. This is a contrast to what has come before in the series. Instead of telling a gripping story with amazing, relatable characters and letting the audience make up its own mind, the producers have taken it upon themselves to educate the privileged white patriarchy. In doing so, they have reduced the show from something exceptional to something common.  

13 Reasons Why (or 13 Exercises in Guilt)

I don’t often get people wanting to share and discuss pieces of drama with me. That’s actually one of my great Life Disappointments. There are things I have a passion for, but few people in my life—if any—tend to share those passions. (For those who failed to jump on my American Crime train, you’re vindicated somewhat; season 3 was a complete disaster.) Then once in a blue moon, people see something and it reminds them of me, and they want to have that mutual catharsis. It’s so rare that I can’t turn it down. Several people came to me about 13 Reasons Why, and even my great-niece seemed interested in seeing what I thought, which was kind of cool. So here we go.

When I entered film school back in 2006, one of the first things that came out of a teacher’s mouth to her students was, “Don’t do any projects about the topic of suicide.” I was taken aback by this because it seemed insensitive to ban a subject that so many people care so much about. No explanation was given that I can recall, but with further reflection, I realized a possibility. The sad truth is, it’s not uncommon for young people to think about suicide. There are varying degrees of severity, from philosophical contemplation to thoughtful ideation to actual intent. But I think it’s safe to say that this topic is a road well traveled by teens and young adults. So it’s hard to add anything new and meaningful to the discourse. If you don’t do it well, you subject yourself to harsh criticism, even mockery by people who question your sincerity. I had an awful experience in one of my scriptwriting classes in which I did write about The Forbidden Topic after someone I knew from work killed himself. I was struggling to find ways to deal with it, and trying to use my writing to help. But when it was read in class, it was laughed at and completely misunderstood, bitterly reminding me of that first rule that I heard on my first day of classes. Now I think the prohibition (or maybe that’s too strong a word, maybe “discouragement” is better) of the subject was because the school didn’t want to deal with any complicated situations that might arise from a student using their creative skills to cry out for help. Students are just cash machines to these schools.

Of course there have been some good films made about suicide. One is Permanent Record (1988), one of Keanu Reeves’ first efforts. Prayers for Bobby (2009) is a good one as it relates to a Christian teen trying to reconcile his faith with his homosexuality. Oh, and it’s a true story. It’s got Sigourney Weaver, so you should check it out if you haven’t. There are also bad movies about suicide. Heathers turns the whole thing into a rather tasteless joke (and people don’t get why I don’t like it.) But there isn’t a lot out there that really addresses this can of worms in a way that is not perfunctory and superficial.

The best thing about 13 Reasons Why is that it’s got the balls to tackle what is actually a difficult subject in a very thoughtful and provocative way. It asks tough questions and forces the viewer to engage with its subject matter and draw their own conclusions. It is flawed, and I’ll get to that in a bit, but I do feel that the producers of this show have tried to do something positive for humanity; it’s not just another cynical exploitation of our culture’s current biggest cash cow, the Young Adult market. They try hard to get it right, and they do not succeed in every aspect, but they do succeed in some.

The acting is top notch. This is really the next generation of great actors that we’ll be seeing a lot of in the future. There are many key players, but two primary ones are the central focus: Hannah (Katherine Langford), the girl who killed herself but not without making 13 tapes explaining her reasoning and who she blames for her fate, and Clay (Dylan Minnette, who was also a “Clay” many years ago in Holly Hunter’s crime series, Saving Grace; I was shocked when I learned that this was the same actor, all grown up), the unfortunate current recipient of the tapes, more tortured by them than anyone else because he actually cared for Hannah. Langford does exactly what she’s supposed to do: create a lovely and lovable character whose suicide stabs at the heart of viewers who can’t help but feel sympathy for such a sweet, funny, sassy, sexy, smart girl whose life ended too soon. But Minnette really carries the show as he goes through almost every human emotion on the map trying to find answers and cope with something that makes absolutely no sense to him. As he gradually discovers the answers, his character evolves in some really interesting ways. And, in fact, that’s true about most of the subjects on Hannah’s tapes. Most of them experience a significant change in their understanding of who they are and how they see the world. And I do think that’s one of the strongest points the show makes. I also want to single out Brandon Flynn, who plays Justin Foley, the caddy jock and arguably the (still living) character who changes the most by the end of the series.

It’s interesting to observe the multicultural diversity in the cast. You’ve got blacks, whites, Asians, Hispanics, gays, lesbians, bisexuals, rich kids, poor kids, kids with cops as parents. You even have a pair of gay dads! But strangely, there doesn’t seem to be any tension based on these matters, with the exception of one closeted lesbian (whose reason for needing to stay in the closet seems really odd to me). It almost seems like the producers tried too hard to create a homogenized world where these differences no longer separate people, in order to put a more narrow focus on generalized bullying. But I’m not sure how accurate it represents your average suburban high school. Interesting point of fact: none of them seem to have much of a spiritual life. Hmm…Maybe that’s part of their problem. They don’t believe in anything.

One thing that happens to me, as a writer and producer of drama, is that when I watch a show, I’m always scrutinizing the difference between what a character feels or says, and what I think the show’s creators are trying to say. I am keenly aware of how one or more characters can become a mouthpiece for a writer to say what they want about the world or any general subject. The risk here is becoming pedantic. (If you read Dean Koontz, you know all about this!)  As a writer, you really don’t want to be that obvious about what your personal take is, unless you’re just an unabashed agenda writer and don’t care that people know that. If you’re wanting to make a point, but end up sounding preachy, you’re doing it wrong. And there are things that characters say in 13 Reasons that sound an awful lot to me like a writer on a soapbox. As the kids like to say, “Fail!” Or “Sad!” (And John Ridley, you should have read this before conceptualizing season 3 of American Crime; you’ll get your review later!)

[SPOILERS AHEAD]

The worst example of this is variations of a mantra that you hear many, many times in the 13 episodes: “We all killed Hannah Baker.” Well, I’m sorry, but that’s bullshit. Hannah Baker killed Hannah Baker. And she can blame whomever she wants, but we’re all singularly responsible for our own actions. Hannah is, as I’ve already stated, a very likable and sympathetic character, but her final action before she died was one of tremendous cruelty. She singled out a group of people, all of whom caused her pain in one way or another—as human beings tend to do—and proceeded to accuse each of them for taking part in her motivation to kill herself. And she made each person listen to each story, causing a gossip storm that nearly ruined a lot of lives. Strange and unlikely alliances were formed, conspiracies were made to silence those who might become a threat if word got out, and general mayhem ensued. In the end, Hannah was exceedingly selfish and irresponsible. And not because she killed herself; there are many who demonize people who commit suicide, calling them cowards, etc., and I think as a society we need to be careful about those types of judgements because they do more harm than good. My issue with Hannah is that she’s trying to take everyone down with her, and many of those people are just as fragile and vulnerable as she is.

Some of the people on her tapes did very minor things. Some did horrible damage. But she lumped them all together. The only one she inflicted punitive damage on (encouraging everyone to throw rocks in his window) was nerdy yearbook photographer Tyler (Devin Druid…is that an awesome name or what?) who himself was a social outcast and a pariah, about the only male cast member not fit to be an Abercrombie and Fitch model, sad and lonely and pathetic. Surely there were others who were more deserving of that kind of treatment. I’m not trying to excuse Tyler’s actions. But messed up people do messed up things. You can call him a creep, but ask yourself how he got this way. This kid was bullied more than Hannah was, and it’s really no surprise to see his arsenal in the last episode; if there’s a second season, will it be about why Tyler became a school shooter?

One of the most enigmatic characters in the show is…oh, I’m not even sure how to label him…hipster Alex, played by Miles Heizer. And I’m honestly not sure if it’s the character himself who doesn’t know who the heck he is, or if it’s flawed, lazy writing. He’s one of the most inconsistent, schizophrenic characters I’ve ever seen on TV. There’s a Cyndi Lauper song I’m reminded of: “You don’t know where you belong / you should be more careful / as you follow blindly along / to find something to swear to / you don’t know what’s right from wrong / you just need to belong somehow.” Of course, that song can apply to 95% of high school kids, you could argue, but still…I feel like the writers just didn’t know how to define this character. And though he did the least amount of harm, he ended up with a self-inflicted bullet in the head, and I could add, “…thanks to Hannah’s revenge drama”, but then I would be contradicting my whole judgement of this series.

 It’s all a blame game, and the people who don’t fall for it are the “assholes” in the show, while those that do are the ones we like. Poor Clay falls hook, line, and sinker for the whole guilt trip, even though he did nothing wrong. The takeaway from his hearing his own tape is that he should have stayed when she told him to go. So let me get this straight:  a woman saying “no” doesn’t really mean “no”?  Amid two rape cases, that’s a strange message to send. Talk about toying with someone’s mind. In essence, she’s telling Clay that if he had been able to read her mind, she might still be alive. Gee, thanks. Now I’ve got another 60 to 70 years to try to live that down.

So the point the writers want to make:  we have to be kind to each other, and very careful with our words and actions because what we do and say can have unexpected and devastating consequences. That’s great; I’m totally down with that message. But the whole “You’re the reason I killed myself” thing?  They could have done better. But then, I guess that would ruin the whole premise of the show.

Another issue I have with the show—and perhaps it’s a societal thing as well—is the “cool parents” phenomenon. You know, don’t pry, respect privacy 100%, don’t demand answers, don’t discipline, let them learn everything on their own, don’t try to protect them, let them be smart asses and shut you out, etc. This is not good parenting. There’s a reason why one of the Ten Commandments is “Honor thy Father and thy Mother.” Because, often, they do know more than you, and they can help you. Sure, some kids (like Justin) get bad parents. But Hannah’s and Clay’s parents were caring and well-intentioned. (I liked the dads more than the moms, for whatever that’s worth.) But they were impotent and ineffectual. I was encouraged by Clay’s eventual promise to spill everything to his mom, but I was disappointed that I didn’t get to see that moment in the show. After all the evasiveness that came before, I longed for a moment of real connection between mother and son, but we didn’t get it. I hate how modern teen stories are a deconstruction (and some might argue, a devaluing) of Family as an essential institution.

High school is a brutal and confusing time. Most people are generally messed up, emotionally. Rapid changes and adjustments are constantly being confronted. Some people are better at handling it than others. My own experience was a nightmare, though for me, it was mostly junior high and not high school. In high school, I was mainly a loner, completely invisible. In junior high, I was #1 pariah. I was talking to a friend about this show the other day, and he said, “The bullying I went through was much worse than anything that happened to Hannah.” And I would actually say the same thing about myself, with the possible exception of the rape. I would suggest, though, that there is more than one type of rape. I would never want to minimize the trauma of those who have been violated sexually, but there are other types of violations that I would say are just as bad and can affect someone for life.

The sad reality is that most people are selfish by nature. And the even more sad reality is that when you’re suffering and try to cry for help, most people don’t have a clue how to handle it, so they do nothing. People cry for help all the time, and almost always get ignored. That’s a fact. That’s my own personal experience talking. It’s easy to give up on humanity and start to believe that nobody gives a fuck about you. 13 Reasons Why is an earnest attempt to address these issues, to start a conversation that could lead to some kind of change. And I have to say it was riveting to watch. For all its problems, I enjoyed it and was genuinely moved by it.

The show has not been without controversy. Some mental health experts have suggested that the show glamorizes—or worse, may inadvertently encourage—suicide. I feel it’s in the eye of the beholder. I’ve heard that certain acts of random violence may have the contributing factor of their perpetrator seeing similar stories on the news and becoming emboldened. But that instinct or drive to violence was likely already there. Whether or not the news story was the tipping point, we may never know. And the same is true here. 13 Reasons Why might resonate with a certain type of personality who is looking for a flashy way to end it and give all the people they’re mad at the middle finger at the same time, but those feelings were likely not caused by the show. Art imitates reality more than the other way around. So you can’t blame a TV show for a tragedy any more than Hannah could justifiably blame her classmates for an action that was solely her decision to make. As an artist, I do feel a responsibility to create content that does not harm, but at the end of the day, it’s not something I have control over. I do admire the producers of this show for asking the questions, though I don’t necessarily agree with some of the conclusions they might want their audience to arrive at. 

I will close this essay with an equation that has been used by many a self-help guru, though I’m not sure who first coined it: E + R = O. Which simply means “Event + Response = Outcome.” Shit happens. But no matter how hard we have it, we all have a choice in how to respond to it. And there is always a response that is born of grace and leads to healing and hope, light and life.