Olivia's Blog

Comedy Central’s Broad City accomplishes two inner-directed tasks easily. Specifically in the season two episode St. Mark’s, in which Abbi and Ilana have a wild night on St. Mark’s Place in Manhattan. For Ilana’s birthday, they go to a restaurant, but run into some obnoxious old friends. The couple they run into begins loudly reenacting their performance art in which the character ejaculates on an American flag…and we know the girls need to get out of there. When coming up with an excuse, the first thing Ilana thinks of is throwing red wine all over Abbi’s dress. This ridiculous scene, although hilarious, evokes strange emotions in viewers. When the old friends are acting out, we are put in Abbi and Ilana’s place. We feel their second-hand embarrassment. We feel bad for the other people in the restaurant. When the waiter comes by and asks to move the tables closer together so they make less noise, we know the girls have to get out of this situation. In this scene, Broad City liberates our imaginations and puts us in that restaurant.

When examining Louis Day’s six moral duties of media creators, it’s clear that Comedy Central’s Broad City prioritizes individual conscience. The creators of the show, Ilana Glazer and Abbi Jacobson, along with producers and directors Paul W. Downs, Amy Poehler, and Lucia Aniello, pour their own opinions and intentions into the media. Like the consistency of a conscience, these creators remained with the show from conception. Abbi and Ilana’s starring in Broad City displays their comfort and pride in their creation. Additionally, the storylines and themes woven into each episode reflect the feelings of the actors. Although Glazer and Jacobson have admitted to being overly dramatic in their roles, they are still themselves. They keep their names. Their Jewish identities play a huge role in the show and the characters even attend religious ceremonies (in the episode Knockoffs, Ilana attends her grandmother’s Shiva).

Next on the priority list is society. The creators of Broad City understand their audience and our needs. We don’t need a show like Girls, with privileged characters crying to their parents. Broad City’s characters don’t fall in love, they hook up and have weird, experimental sex. They hate their jobs, but they don’t have real goals. Audiences want to see funny women smoking weed and standing up against their oppressors, and Broad City’s creators give us just that. These appeals to society include going to sex therapy just for yourself, smoking weed and eating psychedelic mushrooms. Getting botox. Watching pornography. Getting wisdom teeth pulled. The show pushes further and further to test the limits of television and realism. Broad City shows the reality of living in New York after college, even the disgusting parts, like when the plumbing is broken in your apartment building and you are forced to resort to a bucket.

Broad City uses one main archetype in the season four episode titled Witches; you guessed it… it’s witches. The witch archetype has been used by hundreds of cultures all throughout human history. The witch is a powerful woman, in touch with nature and spirits, heavens, and even the underworld. She has been known to use her power for evil, but Broad City’s feminist themes only allow the witch archetype to be a queen, a magical woman connected to the earth. Broad City actually works to undo the stereotypes tied to the witch archetype in this episode.

In the first scene, Ilana discovers Abbi’s first gray hair. Bevers, Abbi’s roommate, runs in and both he and Ilana are in awe. Ilana says Abbi’s turning into a witch, and Abbi says they aren’t real. This makes Bevers and Ilana laugh.

“If witches aren’t real, who makes all the kombucha?”

“And where do scarves come from? Scarf tree?”

This is just the beginning of the stereotyping. Later in the episode, Abbi begins selling prints of her illustrations at a table outside the Met. There is an older woman, Margo, there doing the same thing. The vibes from Margo are immediately weird—she and Abbi literally finish each other sentences. She stuffs a scarf into the back of Abbi’s coat, giving her a hunched, witchy look. Later, Abbi believes she’s growing a wart on her nose, but it’s just a lentil. As the day passes, Abbi leaves her post in front of the Met and returns to find that her table disappeared. At this moment, a crow drops a note from the sky telling Abbi to go into the thicket of the park that night, as the winter solstice begins. When they do, that night, they come upon a large group of women dancing around a fire in the park.

On Depiction Analysis, Peter Orlik raises the question: What are the characteristics of our physical environment? And more so, how do these characteristics make viewers feel about the characters playing within them? As we’ve previously discussed, Comedy Central’s Broad City takes place in New York City—usually the weirdest parts. Specifically in the season one episode Apartment Hunters, the grimiest parts.

In Apartment Hunters, you may recall, Abbi deposits an $8,000 check for an illustration she sold to a dating app. After coming home from the bank, she walks into her living room to find her “roommate’s” boyfriend masturbating. She is disgusted by his presence and decides then and there that she needs to move out. We are then dragged around by a cheap broker to the worst apartments you’ve ever seen but definitely exist somewhere in Brooklyn. The first is a “studio” that barely has any room for a bed. The second has walls so thick somebody can be…and has been killed in it. As in the walls are concrete and there is literally blood splattered on the walls. The third has a loft bed so close to the ceiling Abbi compares it to sleeping in a coffin.

Last week we discussed tone and talent ingredients in Broad City’s iconic episode Apartment Hunters. This week we’re discussing Peter Orlik’s stage-molding ingredients.

As you may remember, this episode included a special music-video type scene at the beginning of the episode in which Abbi and Ilana flaunt their riches to Drake’s “Started From the Bottom.” The opening shots of the episode establish our location, the bank, by glossing over the tellers before Abbi and Ilana bust wearing their ridiculous outfits. Immediately we can tell the lighting technique falls under chiaroscuro, which is more concerned with mood and emotion than standard flat lighting (Notan). This bank is not lit like a normal bank. The first few shots are slowed down, and we still get the “flashing” that comes from fluorescent lighting, so there is some realism. A low angle shot of the security guard at the door lets us know something big is about to happen. This bank may be a place for only important people, more important than the viewer. We return to this low angle shot when Abbi and Ilana step in. The other people in the bank are shot from eye-level, noting that these people are average, and Abbi and Ilana are badass.

Almost every shot with Abbi and Ilana in it during this scene is low angle. Once the song starts and the meaning begins to reveal itself, the women are full-out dancing and flaunting their outfits and wigs. The editors play with speed, quickly changing back and forth from slow motion to normal speed. This adds a lot to the music-video quality of the scene. The characters get close to the camera, really rubbing it in our faces that they have money. The duration of each shot is mostly very short, giving us just enough time to evaluate where we are. Editors and directors of this episode are making it clear they want us to look here, here, here.

Broad City season one, episode nine, titled Apartment Hunters, consists of Abbi and Ilana searching for a new apartment for Abbi. Abbi sells one of her illustrations to a new dating app website and is compensated $8,000. After looking at some truly gruesome apartments with the help of a cheap realtor, Ilana’s good friend Lincoln (played by Hannibal Buress) finds her an apartment with a married, biracial couple. It seems like it’s really going to work out until Abbi sees a commercial for the dating app on TV while in the apartment… and the dating app is made for white people only… and Abbi’s illustration turns against her.

Comedy Central’s Broad City is highly rated by critics and audiences alike. Although audiences on Rotten Tomatoes reported only 86%, reviews on IMDb and Common Sense Media are positive overall. Yes, most audiences can agree the show is funny…yet they cannot seem to tell us why they think so.

Almost every audience review of Broad City is normative. These reviews are valuable, but even positive reviews of this nature essentially provide us with nothing. Naturally, there will always be reviews like this one from John W. on Rotten Tomatoes: “So I was in jail and this came on. You think being in jail, that things can't get much worse. Nope. This made it worse.” John gives us only a judgement without any reasoning behind it. IMDb user Haroldgutarra mentions Abbi and Ilana’s “comedic brilliance,” yet even this is too subjective to be valid. Lakishaferguson21 says that “the animation is really cool.” But this is what we expect from average user reviews—their opinions. They tell us that they laughed, and that they’re glad to see Hannibal Buress. We can’t expect an average viewer to pay special attention to lighting or masterful script writing.

Empirical reviews give further insight into a viewer’s feelings, backing them up with tangible aspects of the media. IMDb user Robertemerald wrote a glorious, empirical review in April of 2019. He discusses the details of each character, the “satirical flourishes,” and even filming techniques. Even this one-star review from Andrew A on Rotten Tomatoes provides us with some empirical evidence of why he feels this way, stating that episode one of season five was “done on the cheap,” and that Ilana Glazer “can’t help but to over-act.” Although they aren’t specific, these are slightly more quantifiable, measurable reasons to dislike season five.

Broad City, a Comedy Central show about two best friends wreaking havoc on New York City, came to a heart-wrenching, and simultaneously heart-warming end in 2019. This opinion article in Dazed Magazine has a nostalgic feel about the whole of what Broad City was: its revolutionary comedy, its problematic themes, and its chaotic, modern plotlines.

Author Marianne Eloise goes in depth about her feelings for the show as well as these important aspects. She discusses actresses Ilana Glazer and Abbi Jacobson’s performances as best friends and almost lovers as well as important plot points. Eloise describes their lifestyle: broke, but fun enough that older, successful women are jealous. She shows how the series changed and aged over time, how Glazer and Jacobson started off fun, wild, and free, and ended anxious and a little existential.

Eloise does little with the structure of Broad City, stating that the show aired on Comedy Central starting in 2014. Early in the article, she describes how the comedy platform was a different place when the series began, where friendships between women were often tense. Additionally, she discusses the comparison to HBO’s Girls, a comparison that would soon become invalid once audiences realized Broad City was “in a league of its own.”

Eloise speaks on her own experience watching Broad City, stating that she identified heavily with Glazer and Jacobson’s characters. She also states how audiences perceived the show, how the waves of heavy criticism were pulled back in by overwhelming love. Eloise does state, however, that the criticism is valid: most of which came from Glazer’s character’s use of African American Vernacular (AAVE). Although the show learned from its mistakes, Eloise does state that this never should have happened in the first place.

Rob Sheffield’s article in Rolling Stone, titled “Super Bowl Halftime Shows Ranked: From Worst to Best” is, well, a ranking of every Super Bowl Halftime show. Sheffield scans through performances year by year, rating them higher as the article goes further down, but lumps together everything from 1967 to 1989 at number 31. He includes YouTube clips and gives anecdotes about each performance.

Peter Orlik’s basic responsibilities of a media critic are: bridge building, suggesting new directions, proposing system-cognizant change, serving as a proxy or watchdog, and entertaining. These are made to be mutually exclusive, hence Sheffield does not possess all these traits. The sheer entertainment of this review is all Sheffield needs to get me to want to read it. Between his anecdotes and video links, I couldn’t wait to get to number one.

I didn’t start watching Super Bowls until about 2015 when my entirely unathletic group of friends started a tradition of watching just to see commercials and the halftime performance (and to eat tons of chicken wings). Sheffield’s video links give me insight into all those years I never watched, and the ones I did see made me nostalgic for the time we got to watch Lady Gaga “jump” off the roof of NRG stadium.

Sheffield’s anecdotes alone are short and funny, with informal dialogue and simple sentences. He brings up old memes, citing Left Shark and Janet Jackson’s areola. Sure, he could have simply gone through and discussed each one in detail, but the inclusion of video clips (although they do not all work) naturally makes a reader stop and say, “What happened that year again?”

His ranking system is equally as enticing. The layout of the article is an easy way to get audiences to read the whole thing, but you’re forced to stop along the way. As I was reading, I couldn’t help but ask myself, Coldplay and Beyonce made it all the way to number 16? And Katy Perry and Missy Elliot to ten?

Iamthatroby’s video essay, Is FRANCES HA (2012) The Most Relatable Film… Ever? is a critique of Noah Baumbach’s film Frances Ha. He discusses the plot and context of the film over short clips and frames as well as interviews of Baumbach himself. He begins by describing Baumbach’s previous films and themes and smoothly transitions into the plot and his judgements.

According to Orlik, good media criticism is cognizant of both a media’s achievements and shortcomings while still making the media interesting in hopes more people will engage with it.

Iamthatroby makes it clear that he fully understands the film and genuinely loves it. He is familiar with Baumbach’s past films, citing scenes from his 2010 film Greenberg. He analyzes the technical aspects of the film, describing the long, drawn out scenes and realistic dialogue and characters, and states that Baumbach was inspired by French New Wave cinema and Woody Allen movies, hence the film’s lack of color.

This first minutes of the review are informed and effective in piquing interest. Iamthatroby has already taught me aspects of the film that I had not known. I had never realized that the camera techniques in Frances Ha are not fancy or that the scenes are longer than other movies. Hence, the creator does improve interest by Orlik’s standards.

Nonetheless, Iamthatroby runs into a few issues. He misnames the character Lev (played by Adam Driver) as Levi, as well as fails to mention that Greta Gerwig co-wrote the screenplay with Baumbach, thereby leaving out that she played a huge role in the film aside from playing the titular character. Additionally, Iamthatroby simply likes Frances Ha too much. Orlik’s definition states that a proper media critic must examine a media’s merits and faults. Iamthatroby has no issues with the film, only glorifying Baumbach’s masterpiece. Although I personally agree with Iamthatroby’s opinion, being that Frances Ha is my favorite film, this does not meet Orlik’s standards.