Warning: This article contains spoilers.
Third time isn’t always the charm—at least, it definitely wasn’t for Netflix’s runaway hit "Orange is the New Black," whose third season premiered early this June. Created by Weeds'Jenji Kohan with executive producer Piper Kerman (a Smith alumna), the show has been lauded for its diverse characters and dedication to women’s representation since its inception. This most recent season, however, diverged strongly from its feminist values and high-quality plot. Due to what seems to be unfocused character development and lazy writing, this latest season fell short of expectations.
"Orange is the New Black" is well-loved for its diverse backstory plotlines, through which we’ve learned our favorite characters’ most intimate secrets, strengths and weaknesses. From seeing Poussey rock a beanie in Germany to learning the heartbreaking truth behind Gloria’s arrest, these subplots have long been the heart of the "Orange" storyline. Not only do they give us a chance to see our favorite inmates on the outside, they provide important character development that informs the inmates’ actions at Litchfield. Although usually well-implemented, this storytelling staple was wildly mishandled in the third season. Instead of attempting to further flesh out the inmates who have already gotten their own episodes, this season introduced more and more backstories—so many, in fact, that the narrative device stopped telling stories and started merely filling episodes. Some backstories offered characters a sense of humanity, only to have that humanity ripped away during the present-day prison scenes. For instance, why show us Chang’s bad-ass beginnings if she’s only going to serve as the show’s dubiously racist East Asian caricature otherwise? Why give us more Healy backstory when we still don’t even know how Poussey ended up on the inside?
Relatedly—and also as a result of poor writing—the show’s most recent season resorted to a number of offensive stereotypes, playing them off as comedy. One of the most questionable instances of this, Black Cindy’s appropriation of Judaism, reflects the tiresome idea that stereotypes stop being oppressive if you have another marginalized group enact them. Black Cindy’s pursuit of Judaism is not so much a heartfelt exploration of religion and culture as it is a ploy for better food, and she relies on a number of unnecessary and offensive stereotypes—from "all Jewish people have curly hair" to "'Annie Hall' is basically the same as the Torah"—to pull off her scam. Although the writers throw in a seemingly heartfelt moment of genuine self-discovery when Cindy finally converts, it's ham-fisted at best. Similar lowlights include a subplot in which the Latina inmates engineer violently transphobic rumors about Sophia, and one in which many women, including a rape survivor and several of the black inmates, relentlessly bully Soso, a mixed race Japanese inmate.
As someone committed to social justice, I have had minor complaints about "Orange is the New Black" since season one, but this season was excessively disappointing. This summer, the show strayed far from its feminist values, instead resorting to "jokes" based in racism, ableism, and transmisogyny, and thusly proving that feminist representation goes farther than putting a bunch of women on screen. I would expect offensive “humor” from a number of mainstream, male-dominated programs, but I was shocked and upset to be fed it over and over again by this season of "Orange is the New Black."
It won't surprise you to learn that the Orange writing staff is predominantly white, according to IMDb, but you probably didn't know that it also includes several male members. If the show is so dedicated to positively representing women of color, that's a significant hiring “mistake” in my opinion — and a confusing one, given that Netflix as a medium puts far less pressure on its show creators to produce mainstream (read: straight/white/male) content than any television network executives would, also according to Ken Auletta on Big Think. Some quick IMDb-assisted math revealed that all thirteen episodes in OITNB season three were at least co-written by male members of the writing staff, with five episodes boasting “written by” credits for men. This may explain the nonsensical characterization of Orange's women this season, given that the writing credits for seasons one and two are far less male-dominated.
This is not to insinuate that it is impossible for people of all genders to write about gender experiences that are not their own, but I would be surprised to learn that some of these white/male writers had conducted any real research about women, Judaism, East Asian immigrants, and/or prison inmates before writing these episodes. One does not practice responsible media representation merely by showing or discussing marginalized identities on screen: it matters how marginalized persons and their experiences are represented.
Whether Orange's writing staff needs to do less (focus on a core set of characters and develop them in thoughtful ways), more (commit to expanding their show’s diversity in tangible ways), or a mixture of both, I sincerely hope next summer presents us with a new season that highlight’s the show’s initial strengths: diverse characters, subversive humor, and engaging plotlines.
