TV Review: #blackAF is #richAF

#BLACKAF

Kenya Barris has written and produced Black-ish, Grown-ish, Mixed-ish, and helmed an overall, comedic universe that has furthered black presence and power in television. Moreover, it has made him extremely wealthy. The latter part is where his new, Netflix sitcom, #blackAF, tries to drive its laughs. Kenya Barris plays a tv producer, a.k.a Kenya Barris, whose richness has pushed him into wealthier circles that are predominantly white, which makes him further psychoanalyze blackness in America, particularly in Wealthy America.

The series takes a Modern Family-documentary style approach: filled with side commentaries by every family member as filmed for his daughter, Drea (Iman Benson), for her film school submission. The side commentaries are valuable in bringing some level of closeness to the bickering family; allowing them to clear their thoughts and get to know each other. Still, let me make a disclaimer! People are really broke right now, and, truthfully, not many ever pitied the rich: whether they are black or white. Classism in America is one of the hardest topics to approach because A) EVERYBODY WANTS TO BE RICH! and B) Most of us are broke and will only admit it when jokingly acknowledging our student debts or over-due bills. Thus, the emotional crux/ commentary of Kenya Barris’ character is that he still suffers some level of racist micro/macro aggressions, despite his wealth, but he does not know how to approach it because he is SO RICH! (Cue my disclaimer!)

#blackAF | Official Trailer | Netflix

#blackAF really does embody, both directly and inadvertently, the EXACT point Kenya Barris wanted to make with this show: America ties blackness with poverty. Portrayals and concepts of people of color are, usually, in impoverished situations, and, statistically, you are more likely to fall into poverty when you are of color. While there are more impoverished white people in America, in terms of population percentages, black people/ people of color are disproportionately higher in poverty rates. Thus, while Barris always brings a sparkling level of education, through black history montages that are brilliantly concise, they get thrown off when the next scene is him and his wife fighting over whether to get a Lamborghini. This dichotomy continues throughout the series and while it can cut off some powerful, wise points, it does bring in some good laughs.

The cast is undeniably good and Barris, ultimately, KNOWS how to write humor. With six kids, you know the Barris’ household can get deranged. There are a bountiful of misadventures in each episode and at the root of the hilarity, surprisingly, is Rashida Jones’ Joya. She further modernizes the old trope of the aloof, but fun sitcom wife, i.e. Lucille Ball or Mary Typer Moore, and makes Joya strangely likable, even when she is totally self-absorbed. Yet, self-absorption is a recurring theme in #blackAF’s humor. Each character is, in some ways, living in their wealthy world: oblivious to other’s struggles. Even Iman Benson’s Drea, the eldest, most responsible child, holds a resentment towards her parents’ desire to be cool while reveling in their money. Benson’s ability to play off her desire for love from but disappointment with her parents allows her to feel like the most human character amongst a family of distinct personalities.

Ultimately, #blackAF is funny. Yet, if its message is that its still hard to be black, even when incredibly rich, I don’t know if that is what poor, people color want to hear? Ugh! Kenya Barris is TOO GOOD at making people think deeply and laugh hard! #blackAF Comes Out April 17.