Kimmy Schmidt, Master of None & the power of comedy

In a world increasingly troubled by political divides and absent leaders, it’s not long before someone sources a quote from the likes of Bill Hicks, Louis CK or Frankie Boyle to accurately sum up their angst or desperation. Audiences often look to comedians for moral guidance, and lambast those same comedians when they perhaps step outside those audience members' comfort zone.

In humour there is truth; playing out a situation in a hilarious manner makes it easier to digest, and as most comedians are dirt poor they can accurately depict the struggles that go on through a layperson’s eye. Comedy is often a gateway into any particular subject; through the cries of ‘too soon’, comedians touch upon troubling areas that most of society won’t dare, and politicians actively avoid.

It’s through this that we can learn more about society – joking about things inherently making them more accessible – but in a comedy club, when any of these perceived truths are spouted it is a revolution that stretches only as far as the end of the room. On the small screen, a trio of Netflix series are helping to open more of a dialogue on three hot button issues than any Jeremy Corbyn clone might. Though by no means are we insinuating that comedy can save the world, or that these shows have solved all of our problems, this trio of shows are certainly helping to create a dialogue on issues that aren’t always best summed up in your pal’s sprawling Facebook rant.

It must first be addressed that, yes, these shows are all created for and by the online streaming service Netflix, but this is no means an advert for the streaming behemoth. The truth is that the way television has been changed by the internet has so far been very good for comedy output. The way these shows are made available as full series – immediately ready for you to binge on – allows showrunners or series creators to act more like auteurs, able to craft a narrative over the entire series and stick to their original vision rather than lobbing another crowd pleaser into an overpopulated pilot season and then taking all the notes they can to make it even more beige.

Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt

Having said all that in the last paragraph, Kimmy Schmidt was in fact borne of network television before being given up for adoption to loving new parents over at Netflix, the second series being made with the loose parameters that Netflix puts in place. This gave creators Tina Fey and Robert Carlock the room to be a little more laissez faire with the swears, though never losing the manic and whimsical feel of the first season.

The show is the ultimate fish out of water story; a woman is kidnapped by a religious leader and lives in a bunker for her formative years before being rescued and moving to New York. Much like 30 Rock (which Fey of course created and Carlock was a writer on) the show is almost a cartoon brought to life, with rapid-fire gags landing so fast it more than warrants repeat viewing. But the hummingbird-speed beating heart of this show is its refusal for women to be pigeonholed.

Fey was the first female head writer of Saturday Night Live at a time when the show was once more in the ascendance after the frat bro shenanigans of the 90s, and she has refused to be boxed in by gender throughout her working life. Kimmy being kept underground by an enigmatic male figure but indefatigable in her pursuit of freedom and being oneself, refusing to kowtow to any preconceived norms others may have says a lot about the treatment of women in the creative fields.

Of course much of the comedy comes from Kimmy (played naïve yet strong by the simply brilliant Ellie Kemper) not understanding how much the world has changed since she was locked away but the heart is the never-say-die attitude that she imparts on all around her.

The show's progressive streak doesn’t end with its lead character’s rebuffing of what’s expected of a modern woman (especially with the counter point of Jane Krakowski’s ‘Stepford Wife’ employer), the second season took swipes at gentrification and the treatment of American Indians. That the second lead is a gay, black man (in a show-stealing turn from Titus Burgess) is further proof of Kimmy Schmidt's bucking of popular televisual tropes.

Master Of None

Aziz Ansari’s love letter to the modern world is arguably the truest example of the evolution of the situation comedy. Rather than put his thinly veiled version of himself (lead character Dev) into a series of ludicrous situations and see what wacky ways these contrivances might figure themselves out, Ansari instead picks a topic and bases the show around that. The story telling is loose but the messages are clear.

The first episode starts off simply enough with a broken condom leading to discussions on birth control, letting you know that the show will not shy away from talking about supposed taboo subjects but will do so in an honest and funny manner. This is just the set-up for Ansari to muse on whether or not he wants kids and the reality of that situation. Each episode is like an essay but with pin-point accurate jokes and pulse-checking pop culture references.

It is perhaps in the second episode – entitled Parents – where Ansari really opens up. Alongside his writing partner Alan Yang (via his on-screen avatar Brian played by Kelvin Yu) they dissect what it is to be the second-generation child of immigrants in America. Their struggle may be different from those of African-Americans but are no less real, the first couple of minutes being some of the best television of the last five years as Dev and Brian's ignorance of their parents' attempts at bonding is intercut with the story of how they came to be in the US.

All the way through the ten episode run there are familiar set ups from modern life, but the show refuses to draw too much attention to them. A diverse social circle gives voice to those that might be ignored or stereotyped on lesser shows, and episodes concerning our treatment of the elderly or the differences in a man’s walk home from a night out and a woman’s are terrifyingly accurate and touch on subjects that should be spoken about more, not just in a half hour comedy show.

Lady Dynamite

Comedians and mental health issues are quite common bedfellows. That’s not to say that you have to be suffer from some illness or other to truly be a great stand up comedian, but it has been found to be a helpful outlet for comics that may face those issues. Harriet Dyer’s excellent work with MIND at her Barking Tales shows in Manchester is a great example of using comedy as a way of removing the stigma from mental illness.

The idea that talking about these issues helps people to cope is something that is key to the 12-episode run of Lady Dynamite from non-more-kooky Maria Bamford. Viewers who are familiar with Bamford’s stand up style will already be well aware of her honest portrayal of what it’s like to be depressed and have manic tendencie,s and this show goes further to open a dialogue on such issues whilst being tender, heartwarming and uniquely hilarious.

Bamford’s mind doesn’t work quite like most people, which is obviously a blessing and a curse. In Lady Dynamite she portrays three versions of herself in three different timelines. The past, in which she was on the verge of stardom and her bipolar 2 started to rear its head; her time spent in her hometown of Duluth with her parents after her mental breakdown; and the present in which she attempts to learn from these periods in order to live a healthier life.

In the first episode she gains some help from Patton Oswalt, who breaks character to tell her to steer away from some common threads that stand-up-turned-sitcom stars often keep to, though this is a device used to explain away how Lady Dynamite is not going to be your usual fare regardless of input from the alternative comedians of America.

Bamford jumps back and forth between timelines as she accurately portrays a woman on the edge, a broken soul and an optimist hopeful of what this new future might bring. Without making them seem like three different characters, just parts of the same complicated whole.

The doubts and neuroses she shares are relatable, if not always as complex as the ones Bamford might encounter, but her honesty in showcasing a vulnerable time is joyful and heartbreaking all at the same time. It's a rollercoaster of emotion that’s almost cathartic to watch on screen and an important treatise on what it is to suffer from mental illness.

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The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, Master of None and Lady Dynamite are out now via Netflix.