"ramy," "shrill" & "special"

Hulu

Hulu

There's been an awakening on Hulu and Netflix — have you felt it? Call it “the Donald Trump effect”: new, fresh-faced episodic programming in the wake of his destructive reign featuring more people of color, plus-sized heroines and very little (if any), straight white leading men. With some notable exceptions like "Barry" and "Jack Ryan," online streaming platforms have upped the ante in ways network tv and cable companies alike could only dream of. New series like "Ramy," "Shrill" and "Special" feature millennial Muslims, fearless fat women, and even gay men with neurological disorders at the forefront, and while they still tend to skew towards the overused fish-out-water tropes, there is an eagerness to welcome these new characters to our homes if only for the novelty of witnessing something original, a perspective we might otherwise never be privy to. The radical idea that a straight white male hero (or anti-hero) is no longer a pre-requisite to carry a television series is a testament to the vitriol stoked by Trump and his ilk — a daily assault against all things Latinx, Muslim, LGBTQ, or anything remotely resembling female empowerment. In fact, the worse Trump gets the more likely we'll end up seeing a half-hour episodic led by a Black Trans Refugee, which come to think of it, would probably make for one hell of a tv show. Not only are our former white male heroes being subjugated to more supporting and background roles, they’re ever so slowly being written off into cultural irrelevance. And whether or not that's a problem in a 72% Caucasian-dominant country, is yet to be seen.

Which isn't to say shows like "Ramy," "Shrill" or "Special" ignore straight white men entirely. In one of its standout episodes, Ramy invokes his past traumas of being the sole Muslim in a small New Jersey suburb right after 9/11, and recounts convincing his white bffs that he's not only not a terrorist, but masturbates too. Young Ramy is so shaken by their accusations that he dreams up a late-night conversation with Osama Bin Laden in his kitchen, where the two split a bowl of strawberries and exchange jabs over America’s imperial pursuit of freedom and the Middle East’s extremist retaliations. It's a deftly haunting and transparent convo, one which sharpens the first and second-generational battle lines drawn while recognizing bad-state actors on “both sides.” It's one hell of a sequence and bold for Hulu and A24, but in this bizarro universe we now find ourselves in, I suppose anything goes. "Special" also employs clever nods to the endangered straight white male specimen, like a memorable throwaway line exclaiming "Straight White Men Are Cancelled," a feeling borne out of the frustration of seminal "Me Too" events like Brock Turner's light as a feather prison sentence, or Harvey Weinstein's serial predatory behavior, best personified by Trump’s upset election win. There remains a shared, palpable anger in this country, yet for better or worse, it’s also ushered in a new landscape of alternative voices that has brought some semblance of relief during these hellish two years.

Even Aidy Bryant’s scummy boss in "Shrill," which could’ve been played by any cocky straight white male, was written for and played by a gay man (John Cameron Mitchell), and there is a great midseason dust-up over which of their characters is more disenfranchised / under attack in America in 2019. Ramy’s childhood best friend (played by a terrific Steve Way) lives with muscular dystrophy, and while he does happen to be another straight white male, his handicap shields him from the same blowback currently held for others. By humorous juxtaposition, it is Steve’s Muslim friend Ramy who emerges as more privileged, and Steve lives as a semi-embattled figure who curses, chews edibles to ease his handicap, and meets young women (one might even say underage) online in the seediest manner possible, claiming he’s one of the chosen few who “can’t be MeToo’d.” "Special" is another great example of a Netflix series which might not’ve taken off had it not been for creator Ryan O'Connell's disability (cerebral palsy). Clearly, our heralded straight white heroes didn’t save us from Trump — they may have even voted for him — yuck, and now whether fairly (or unfairly), are paying the price with a systemic overcorrection of who deserves to be seen and heard at this juncture in our nation’s strange history. The fear however, is that this overcorrection may be met with an even uglier, more derisive response from the "All Lives Matter" crowd. But would they or should they even be watching these niche offerings anyway? The answer might not be so abundantly clear right now, but one issue looms large: if DJT is re-elected in 2020, straight white men won't just be cancelled, they’ll be f**king eviscerated.

RAMY,” “SHRILL” & “SPECIAL” a.k.a. “Friends with Visibilities” on HULU & NETFLIX. Rated TV-MA.

Ruben Guevara