From Mad Men to The Bold Type: How Television Has Proven Itself a Hero of The Pandemic
I can almost guarantee that anyone who has worked in television has a complex relationship with it. For most of my life, I just loved it. Plain and simple. Since my first hard binge, Mad Men, when I was fourteen. The first time I hadn’t noticed it turn from day to night because my eyes were glued to the television. Not quite sure why my parents recommended that one, but Don, Peggy, and Joan played a huge role in shaping my life outside studying. When I arrived at college, in the midst of my first It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia binge, I knew I wanted to be an English major. Character development, from chapter to chapter, is what I love most about a novel. I was similarly engrossed by Don Draper’s winding arc over eight years of Mad Men. Cue: Another Golden Age of Television. I always joke that I’ve seen every “good” show out there, and it’s honestly a burden! I’ve now resorted to Bravo. I really just respect the hell out of a quality television show—and Real Housewives of New York City bops, by the way. In college, I was so enamored by this golden era unfolding on the small screen that when senior year hit, I knew I wanted in.
About two weeks after my college graduation, I started as a production intern on Younger, and in two years trekked my way through some pretty awful low-budget features, but also some awesome, cushy network series. Most importantly, I made friends for life, bonding through the shitty hours and rude directors. This past October, upon finishing the toughest job yet, I found myself wondering: is this worth it? Is losing my sense of self actually worth moving up in this industry? We were not curing cancer—although you would have thought that by my coworkers’ melodrama, like each match lit was a forest fire-sized tragedy. We, the low ladies on the totem pole, were not treated particularly well, and paid worse. I was sure there were more fulfilling ways to spend fourteen hours of my day.
I struggled to watch television during that job. I knew too well the stress of crafting every single decision or script page. Instead of using television to enjoy my minimal free time, I couldn’t bring myself to watch. All I could think about was how late the crew had to stay up for that night scene. Or how I heard the lead actress was a total bitch. It wasn’t relaxing anymore, and something I loved so dearly felt ruined. I didn’t feel passionate about anything during this time. And in the biz, if you don’t have passion, you will not last. I knew it was time to move on, away from the industry I called home for my first two years in the real world.
It took a global pandemic for me to remember just how powerful television can be. It may not always be there to change the world—but sometimes it is (I’m looking at you, Unorthodox). Sometimes, it just exists for pure, unadulterated enjoyment (I see you and I’m here for you, Love Island). After seven months away from the industry, I’ve finally allowed myself to appreciate television for its worth, to see how much it means to society today. Sure, television is escapism—I’d watch Christina Applegate and Linda Cardellini bury a dead asshole any day—but it’s also much more than that. Television has become one of the only constants in our crazy world. Now, more than ever, television is a place to feel seen and understood. Identifying with a character, especially during an uncertain time like this, can make you feel alive again. It happened to me, in quarantine, with a little Freeform show called The Bold Type.
Since its inception in 2017, many of my friends have recommended Freeform’s The Bold Type to me. But whenever someone brought it up, and even when I highly valued and respected her opinion, I just couldn’t get past the FF. I watched the pilot three times and dismissed it each time as a poor woman’s Younger, a TV Land original—thus, of course, a much higher caliber show. My dismissals could have been due to The Bold Type’s lack of star power, and I’m not proud of that. But can you blame a chick? I was accustomed to Big Little Lies at this point! In quarantine, I finally leaned out of my bubble. The series I had previously brushed off as Younger’s country cousin rapidly evolved into Sex and the City’s brazen younger sister. The Bold Type follows three best friends: Kat, Sutton, and Jane. And while the show centers on the girls’ careers and relationships, the heart of the series lies within the strength and importance of true female friendship—coupled with lit fashion, ABBA karaoke scenes, and too many hot-button topics to count. Their friendship is honest. I have not seen female friendship this purely portrayed on television since the OG fab four. And while you may want to dismiss this show because the girls work for a cliché fashion magazine, you shouldn’t. The Bold Type takes on female friendship, one of the most complex forms of relationship, with poise, dignity, no mean girls, and love. Nothing else really matters.
PHOTO: @thekatiestevens
Although The Bold Type is the child of Freeform—formerly ABC Family—the show never shies away from touchy subjects. The girls take on everything from immigration, to pegging, to the BRCA gene mutation, with so much fun in between. There is far more depth to this show, as well as its three leading women, than in Sex and the City. Kat, Sutton, and Jane are powerful; they always stand up for what they believe in, even if it means getting fired from a glam job or arrested. And it’s inspiring because, often times, what these girls believe in is themselves. Talk about a breath of fresh air?! Remember when I said I wasn’t sure of the show because it had no big shot actors? Well, that little tidbit has become what I love most about The Bold Type—it embodies hard work, from the cast to the characters and everyone in between. These ladies worked their acting tushies off to score these iconic roles, and they give it 150% every single episode. The actresses, Aisha Dee, Meghann Fahy, and Katie Stevens, inspire me to work hard and dream big—hey, they did it! Kat, Sutton, Jane, Aisha, Meghann, and Katie all did it—it sure as hell didn’t happen overnight for any of them, but they never let their dreams die.
Aisha, Meghann, and Katie worked hard to authentically portray the ups and downs of living in New York City in your twenties. But they did not achieve this magic on their own. They worked tirelessly with the help of 200 crew members, who I imagine worked fourteen hour days on the reg’ to make this show come together so seamlessly. When I was in the biz, I couldn’t see it. And while, to me, a camera operator is still no surgeon, I understand why that camera op is willing to spend 70+ hours per week in the studio, or on location in the heat, rain, or snow. Great shows like The Bold Type, Dead to Me, The Last Dance bring the world comfort. They make us happy. They inspire us. They challenge us. They are there for us through a pandemic. So, THANK YOU, to the cast and crew of these incredible shows. I hope you realize how much you and your passion has done for us all in this difficult time.
Recommended Quarantine Releases:
ESPN, The Last Dance
Netflix, Never Have I Ever
Netflix, Dead to Me (Season 2)
VH1, RuPaul’s Drag Race (Season 12)
Netflix, Unorthodox
Hulu, Dave
