HBO’s Insecure shows real look at LA

As the year comes to an end, streaming platforms and networks are rolling out new shows every week as competition becomes increasingly more intense and the market becomes even more crowded (Spotify is set to launch its own content this next year, just to give you an example).

Two major streaming titans, Netflix and Amazon, have both premiered multiple shows in the last several months (the latter of which has had a fairly quiet rollout of Woody Allen’s not-so-great A Crisis in Six Scenes). Although HBO began on television, it’s move to streaming platforms HBO Go and HBO Now has opened up a new way to enjoy the network’s content— and so when presented with the opportunity to premiere their newest half-hour comedy Insecure to audience members, HBO decided to debut it online almost a month prior to its original air date, a move presumably made to drum up interest and viewership the more the pilot lives online.

Insecure stars Issa Rae as Issa Dee, a late 20s black woman living in Los Angeles, and is based on the web series Rae created in 2011 called The Mis-Adventures of Awkward Black Girl. In the opening scene, Issa tells a group of young elementary school kids: “black women aren’t bitter, they’re just tired of being expected to settle for less.” The kids don’t really understand her, but the audience sure does: more than a comedy, this show will carry weight. Although the title might suggest otherwise, Insecure’s creator Issa Rae has shown in just two episodes that her voice is sure-footed and confident, and exactly what audiences need.

In the show, Issa works at a non-profit called We Got Y’All, aimed at helping young inner city youth. But as Issa puts it, even though her boss founded the nonprofit to help people “in the ‘hood…,” “she didn’t hire anybody actually from the hood.” And so much to Issa’s chagrin, she becomes the “token” black woman in the office space. However, Issa doesn’t want to play that role, so when her very white co-workers ask her to explain the term “on fleek,” Issa looks at them blankly and says “I don’t know what that means.” A second later in narration, she tells the audience, “I know what that sh-t means. But being aggressively passive is what I do best.”

Back at home, Issa’s deadbeat boyfriend of four years Lawrence (Jay Ellis) can’t get his “business proposal off the ground” and Issa fantasizes about breaking up with him. Meanwhile, Issa’s best friend Molly (Yvonne Orji) can’t find a steady man to date. Issa lovingly describes Molly as “the Will Smith of corporate. White people love Molly. Black people love Molly.” The two are tied at the hip; Issa the yin to Molly’s yang. In the pilot episode, the two meet at Merkato (an Ethiopian restaurant on Fairfax Avenue) afterwork to complain about guys and their love life. Later in the episode, when Molly needs a pick me up, Issa forces her to dress up and go out. A particularly funny— and insightful— moment occurs when they arrive at the club and Molly complains: “Issa, why are we in 1997 Inglewood?”

Of course, there are familiar tropes in Insecure. When Issa tells her boyfriend “We’re not about to be the black couple fighting in Rite Aid right now” and turns away from him, she skulks back a second later, asking if she can use his Rite Aid card “for the discount.” Lawrence shakes his head in disbelief, then leaves the store as Issa hangs her head in almost mock shame.

This type of unabashedly dependent moment in the wake of a flurry of independent action is not foreign to the genre of independent unruly women. We’ve seen a similar moment no doubt in Girls, or The Mindy Project or Broad City. I can almost see a similar scene in Girls as Lena Dunham’s Hannah stomps off camera— be it away from her parents or her boyfriend or her friend— only to return a second later begging for something from them. And while a moment like this might feel tired, Insecure’s voice found in Issa Rae makes it entirely fresh.

Insecure also paints such a specific portrait of Los Angeles. Green palm trees and open skies are nothing new to the city’s visual history, but the often ignored parts of Los Angeles are the parts that shines in Insecure. Mostly, it just makes the show feel more real and genuine.

In the second episode, a former flame tells Issa: “Every black girl that went to college likes Drake.” At first, she’s affronted, then admits “He just really gets us.” Maybe not every girl that goes to college will be like Insecure, but there’s bound to be a group who feels that Issa just really gets them. And that’s what making and telling stories should be about.

Minnie Schedeen is a a senior majoring in cinema and media studies.  Her column, “Film Fatale,” runs on Wednesdays.