The Epic Goodness of "Insecure" Season Two

Insecure Season Two made the summer hot and funny.

Last night, my mom texted," what are you getting into?"
I responded, "I'm just binge watching my favorite show."
"Buffy? Roswell?"
"No. I'm watching Insecure!"
"Insecure? What is that about?"

The relationship between Issa (Issa Rae) and Molly (Yvonne Orji) is a solid backbone of the whole show. It's very endearing that when either one of them has been driven to take a misstep, they edge each other from the ledge.

Yes, my teenage years were spent admiring vampire slayers and aliens. Back then, the pop culture was so good that ignoring the huge pink elephant in the room-- that WB shows and bedroom wall posters excluded black characters, black actors-- seemed easy to swallow. Insecure is a solid restoration project, a justified experience gifting those who rarely saw reflections of themselves on a weekly basis. These black women not only look like us, in deeper brown skin tones and varying hair textures, they are expressionistic, intelligent, funny, sharp, awkward, vulnerable, and desirable.

In the first season, Molly Carter searched for love in all the wrong places and Issa Dee tried to be a loyal girlfriend to Lawrence, her app creating boyfriend of five years (who definitely spent more time on the couch than anything else), but her old crush, music producer, Daniel, causes her to commit the ultimate relationship no-no.

Molly (Yvonne Orji) and her bilingual old neighbor Dro (Sarunus Jackson) catch up on things.....

Season two picks right up where we left off, going in hard core as Issa struggles to move on from a long-term relationship. Our hip hop heroine is juggling men (on some casual "hoe-tation"), letting horrific injustice slide at her job (which frictions up the Issa/Frieda relationship), and noticing gentrification of her apartment building and neighborhood (rent uphikes and all). Molly, on the other hand, seems less idyllic, abandoning shallow hookups for a while. She faces financial disparity at the law firm, her parents' marriage isn't what she deluded herself into believing, and her gorgeous old friend reveals shocking details about his marriage. Lawrence is trying to be a single man with boastful encouragement from Chad, his engaged homeboy. Lawrence winds up making questionable choices: mindless sex, "ghosting" woes, entering commitments he's not ready for, and being treated like the "cool black guy" that his young, white bosses are afraid to openly criticize.

"Hella Disrespectful" episode seven, featured an intense confrontation that had the exes facing each other for the first time since the tumultuous end of "Hella Great," episode one. Despite the hate fueled words exchanged,, Issa (Issa Rae) and Lawrence (Jay Ellis) had a flaring passion boiling between their insults.

There are laughs galore in this season. For starters, no one is ever going to look at eye patches the same way again. It's a nicely layered balance of comedy and drama, as infectiously entertaining as the creepy slave soap opera that everyone seems to watch-- guys included.

Squad goals: Molly (Yvonne Orji), Issa (Issa Rae), Tiffany (Amanda Seales), and Kelli (Natasha Rothwell) take a selfie pose at a Derrick Addams show, bringing contemporary art into the canvas.

The dynamic has shifted, granting imperative tidbits on Molly and Issa's other gal pals, boujie Tiffany and bluntly outspoken Kelli. Tiffany's marriage to Derek, like Molly's parents, appeared blissful and happy until she blabbered rather shocking news. Although it's unclear whether infidelity is involved, one thing is clear-- maybe the third season unleashes another chip in a seemingly perfect union. After all, the wandering eye has been an antagonizing obstacle in almost everyone's relationships. Meanwhile, hilarious Kelli, a constant relief, finds time to enjoy herself at the Kiss and Grind and the late-night food spot, which concludes in a very disturbing, albeit comically riveting moment.

Insecure has been receiving a modest amount of love on the award circuit. Black Reel nominated Jay Ellis recently won Best Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Comedy Series at the NAACP Image Awards while triple-threat Issa Rae has been nominated six times in multiple categories as an actress, writer, and Entertainer of the Year. Rae has received BET, Golden Globe, MTV Movie + TV, Satellite, and Gold Derby nods as well as winning NAMIC and Black Reel Awards. Yvonne Orji has also garnered two consecutive NAACP nominations and a Black Reel nod. For two eight-episode seasons of creative, refreshingly candid stories, this HBO gem is utterly deserving of every honor Hollywood has to offer-- it's that damn good.

In Issa Rae's written "Hella Perspective," contains one of my favorite scenes. Issa (Issa Rae) faces one financial disaster after another and cannot make the maiden voyage to Morocco. So Molly (Yvonne) turns her apartment into a trip overseas, granting them costumes, food, and music. Cheers to that. 

This bonafide treat has been greenlighted for another season and hopefully more afterwards. The head bopping music (thank you, Raphael Siddiq), Issa's active imagination/mirror self talks, silly sister friends, and more cook beautifully together in this hot, simmering soup that is too tasty to pass up. Other pluses include women behind-the-scenes: Natasha Rothwell (Kelli) as executive story editor, Melina Matsoukas, Marta Cunningham, and Tina Mabry directing episodes, Rae, Regina Hicks, and Amy Aniobi writing, Ayanna James' dope clothing choices from endless pro-black message shirts/hoodies (bus bound Issa's "The FBI Killed Fred Hampton" sweatshirt was one of my favorites), funky denim, and stylish dresses, and Felicia Leatherwood giving endless hairstyle slayage to Rae.

"I'm rooting for everybody black," Rae had stated.

Insecure is worth applauding-- because it's a piece of reflective glass for everybody black. Although one can not the importance of Buffy and possibly Roswell, the fact remains that those shows were not showing an inclusive reality to escape into. They rarely shared positive images of ourselves. We didn't lead, let alone speak up enough. With Issa and all her crazy hot mess goodness, is the wonderful, thoughtful consideration for the audience, for the black women and black men who rally around these characters, who have formed an Issa Side and a Lawrence Hive, truly wanting what's best for all of them.

It's a show that reveals our flaws, our dreams, our beauty, and our undeniable strength.

And now my mom is eager to watch.

Five Prime Reasons to Check Out Issa Rae's HBO Show "Insecure"

Sunday nights are about to be super lit.

HBO took a chance on debuting a hip hop girl empowered television comedy called Insecure.  Created by Awkward Black Girl's Issa Rae and funnyman Larry Wilmore, the modern day series follows in the path of a working black woman, Issa and her best friend, a hotshot corporate lawyer, Molly. It's pretty badass, rated R raunchy with heart, and laugh out loud funny. Plus, like Queen Sugar, inclusivity is featured behind-the-scenes as well. That's wonderful!
Here are five prime reasons to fill your Sunday nights with Insecure:

Issa Dee (Issa Rae) finds her life on display instead of the organization she represents.

1. Kids honestly can't understand our conscientiously fluid adulthood.

When Issa stands in a stuffed classroom of misbehaving, badmouthed fourth graders, embarrassment levels are up on full blast. They dis her speech, her singleness, her clothing style. She takes their offensive darts left and right, standing tough, a big golden smile on her face. Yet as questions become more invasive with cruel clapbacks, how can anyone not feel sorry for poor Issa?

Plus the haunting (albeit vexing) question “why do you talk white?” has hounded most intelligent, well-educated black women for almost our entire lives. We're taught by our own race that being articulate is a crime against ebonics. And that “why is your hair like that?” given specifically to black women with big chops and short TWA's tells us that our unique version to white girl pixie cuts are not allowed.

2. Microaggressions at the workplace are common. Find ways to cope.

Issa hates being singled out for ideas, especially the click-and-bait. She decides not to help them out by pretending she has no idea what ghetto linguistics are. It's quite hysterical.
Even if her white co-workers have the best intentions, they're delivering inflammatory remarks (often spoken in an over-saccharin dripping tone in how one asks for a cup or sugar). That should always be taken into serious context.
Issa handles their racism like a snarky, tea-sipping boss.

Out of all the lipsticks, Issa decided a clear gloss was best. That's all of us.

Nothing wrong with being your own cheerleader.

3. Love yourself 101.
When Issa preps for a night out, switching lipsticks and personalities, the scene felt like a powerful, celebratory statement. Overall honest and candid, a rare look at how black women see themselves when alone. A black woman can be anyone she chooses to be-- sweet, sexy, goth, funky, and innocent all in the bathroom mirror.
Issa's reflection was everyone's reflection.
She loves herself. And we are falling in love with her too.

No one should be resting in one place.

4. Relationships hit rough patches. Things will only worsen over time or evolve into something profound.

Each scene featuring sweats clad Lawrence, Issa's boyfriend of five years, showcases a man's potent fluency in laziness limbo. The handsome couch occupier goes from sleeping like a hibernating bear, to canceling birthday dates to “stay in,” to eating a big bowl of cereal whilst having the audacity to call out Molly's "high standard" taste in men. However, appearances are deceiving. Lawrence is looking hard for a job. Real hard.

Yet Issa is fed up. Perhaps that explains her being drawn to an old infatuation, her long time crush, Daniel (Y'lan Noel) who Facebook/text messages her constantly and ignites hilarious impulses.

Still, without distractions (and a job) causing strife, maybe Issa and Lawrence can work it out somehow.

Girls just wanna have fun. Go Molly (Yvonne Orji) and Issa (Issa Rae)!

5. Don't ditch your surrogate sis for a man. Ever.

We all have a ride-or-die best friend that we love hardcore. They're usually depicted as our long lost sibling, our better half, perhaps even our real soulmate. At the same time, we have moments of pure selfishness.
Issa and Molly have an amazing friendship, a real, genuine chemistry igniting the screen.
It was only right that Issa hilariously sang a bit of The Girlfriends theme to her. Their vibe is as fresh as a bite of peppermint gum.
Towards middle of the episode, Issa commits the ultimate friendship code wrong-- planning a “girl's night out” solely for intentions of seeing a guy-- Daniel of course. With Daniel's cheerleading, she bravely takes open mic freestyle stage and spits female empowerment song "Broken Pussy" over a slick beat. However, Molly is not celebrating Issa's bravery. She only sees it as a hurtful slap in the face.
In the end, admirable that though prospect tempted our coilly coifed protagonist, she declines a Daniel's indecent proposal. Issa instead (and rightfully so) spends the night with her bestie, bonding over junk food, slyly ensuring an allegorical promise that this half-hour comedy will become addictive guilty pleasure as the season progresses on.

The-Oh-You-Just-Go-Leave-Me-Hanging is the worst. Great save Issa! Not awkward at all.

67 Years of Funny White Women in the Lead

The 68th annual Primetime Emmy Awards aired Sunday night.

For so long, we had waited for a chance to be considered the Best Leading Actress in a Television Series. Cheers came loud and proud from Debbie Allen to Kerry Washington to sistahs in between. Last year, at last, Viola Davis shattered predominantly white glass ceiling by winning coveted Outstanding Actress in a Drama Series trophy for her layered performance as Annalise Keating on ABC's How to Get Away With Murder. It took sixty-seven years to honor a Black woman— which was a lot sooner than the thirty-two years for an Outstanding Leading Actress in a Comedy Series win.
Yet here we are, after sixty-eight years, stuck with pathetic results— one Black woman winner for lead in a drama, one Black woman winner for lead in a comedy.

Isabel Sanford (with Sherman Hensley) with her big Emmy win.

Back in 1981, sixty-four-year-old Isabel Sanford took home the golden statue after her third consecutive nomination in the category for playing Louise "Weezy" Mills-Jefferson on The Jeffersons. She was the first black woman to win Outstanding Leading Actress in a Comedy Series.

So far, she is the only.

Diahann Carroll, Isabel Sanford, Nell Carter, and Phylicia Rashad paved a way. 

On the television screens, they were warm, smart, delightful, and funny-- playing major matriarch role in a slew of uplifting black family sitcoms. Generation after generation found a "mom" to call their own, a maternal hand that playfully slapped common sense into their children's naivety. In moments of despair, attentive audiences counted on these remarkable women to make us chuckle, giggle, and chortle. Sometimes they made us cry. They even made us think, question ourselves, our identities. 

Although other intelligent shows shared comedic chops from A Different World to In Living Single to Girlfriends, not one Black woman could break into the Emmys five to six entry ballot often primarily reserved for white women.

Julia Louis-Dreyfus as Selina Meyer (Veep) for the win. Again.

With Julia Louis-Dreyfus's fifth straight victory in this category, she beats out Mary Tyler Moore and Candice Bergen for most Leading Actress in a Comedy wins. She also holds the record for most Emmy wins out of twenty-two nominations. That almost doubles the amount of total nominees black women have received altogether. Heck, adding fuel to the fire, Louis-Dreyfus, Moore, and Bergen's combined trophies beat them out as well.
TVline's Michael Ausiello's short case for why Louis-Dreyfus needs to exit the race almost seems positive. He mentioned Bergen's polite dropping out:

In 1996, shortly after winning her fifth non-consecutive Lead Actress Emmy for Murphy Brown, Candice Bergen took herself out of the running in order to give one of her peers a shot at the gold statue.

Next sentence in, Ausiello says:

In this era of #PeakTV, a Louis-Dreyfus-less Lead Actress competition would not only allow one of her overdue rivals to grab gold, but it would create a much-needed vacancy in the six-person race, paving the way for the Michaela Watkins’ and Constance Wus and Rachel Blooms of the world to sneak in.

Constance Wu is brilliant in the wickedly humorous Fresh Off the Boat. One of several key snubs robbed of an Emmy nomination this year. Like black women, Asian women are scarcely seen as being capable of delivering weekly humor, let alone seen competition in what is seemed to be known as a white woman's sport. Hence why the yearning to be freed from stereotypical burden has been the strongest initiative in campaigning for the right of television equality and inclusivity. Women of color deserve to play more than pigeonholed constructions. If they can bring out laughs whilst dismantling white supremacy at the same time, they should not be punished or ostracized.

In 1969, Diahann Carroll (Julia) was the first African American to be nominated for Outstanding Leading Actress in a Comedy Series. The role was non stereotypical.

Isabel Sanford (with Sherman Hensley) received seven nominations for Outstanding Leading Actress in a Comedy Series— the most of all for Black actresses. This total also outnumbers the combined amount of the other nominees—a dismal six.

Nell Carter has two nominations for Gimme A Break!

Phylicia Rashad also scored two nominations. She played Claire Huxtable on The Cosby Show for eight seasons.

The 68th Annual Emmy Awards hasn't been inclusive since America Ferrera won an Emmy for Ugly Betty back in 2007. Voters have to stop choosing the same leading white woman year after year. Same selected roster of names are tossed onto ballots each year, the same old finalists— meaning the same old predictable outcome.

Black women and other women of color deserve a real, fighting chance to shine.

“When one of us wins, we all win.”— Taraji P. Henson, 2015