As much as I love Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, I somewhat understand its low ratings — it's difficult to watch. The early seasons are perhaps intentionally frustrating; the humor can be crude and relies on Cringe Comedy, and the characters are jerks who make terrible decisions and often backslide into destructive behavior. But as the show reminds us, life doesn't make narrative sense, and the flipside of this is that the characters feel like real people who often struggle to change neatly. As terrible as they can be, they are largely well-meaning and very compellingly acted. Rachel Bloom's Rebecca is one of television's best-written women and anchors the show solidly, and the other main and supporting members round it out well. And of course, the music and performances are brilliant. The show is a Deconstructive Parody of both romantic comedies and musicals, skewering both through its songs to portray how our media-warped views on romance and relationships don't often line up with real life.
And does this struggle pay off? Absolutely. Midway through season three, a crucial event changes the tone of the show and all the mess starts moving in a coherent direction: good mental health. This is not to say it gets less frustrating — indeed, CEG portrays recovery from mental illness very solidly, warts and all — but Rebecca's slow improvement finally has an end in sight. This is also not to say that the show is perfectly written, either — some plotlines (the baby storyline in season 3, for one) feel rushed and not fully-developed. But by the final season, it's startling to see how far the characters have come. While the romantic drama is always at the forefront and in fact comes full circle in the ending, they are all better people by now, and the happy endings feel earned.
A hard sell but rewarding.
As much as I love Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, I somewhat understand its low ratings — it's difficult to watch. The early seasons are perhaps intentionally frustrating; the humor can be crude and relies on Cringe Comedy, and the characters are jerks who make terrible decisions and often backslide into destructive behavior. But as the show reminds us, life doesn't make narrative sense, and the flipside of this is that the characters feel like real people who often struggle to change neatly. As terrible as they can be, they are largely well-meaning and very compellingly acted. Rachel Bloom's Rebecca is one of television's best-written women and anchors the show solidly, and the other main and supporting members round it out well. And of course, the music and performances are brilliant. The show is a Deconstructive Parody of both romantic comedies and musicals, skewering both through its songs to portray how our media-warped views on romance and relationships don't often line up with real life.
And does this struggle pay off? Absolutely. Midway through season three, a crucial event changes the tone of the show and all the mess starts moving in a coherent direction: good mental health. This is not to say it gets less frustrating — indeed, CEG portrays recovery from mental illness very solidly, warts and all — but Rebecca's slow improvement finally has an end in sight. This is also not to say that the show is perfectly written, either — some plotlines (the baby storyline in season 3, for one) feel rushed and not fully-developed. But by the final season, it's startling to see how far the characters have come. While the romantic drama is always at the forefront and in fact comes full circle in the ending, they are all better people by now, and the happy endings feel earned.