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Thursday, May 16, 2019
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com ARTS
Despite the countless positives
associated with the recent surge
in representation within our
media landscape, it is easy to be
lulled into a false sense of accom-
plishment. The mere presence of
diverse faces does not mean that
the seemingly never-ending jour-
ney toward parity has been com-
pleted.
That’s right, whites. Put your
pussy hats back on, this party’s
far from being over. Currently,
to be a person of color with a
platform in the media, your vis-
ibility comes at the cost of your
individualism. The beast of fame
is indiscriminate in its scrutiny
of those in the public eye, but
only those from marginalized
groups know the fatiguing extent
to which their identities amplify
this magnification. In the same
way that the only Black kid in
class is expected to retain a doc-
torate in American slavery by
middle school, creators of color
are expected to use their projects
to speak for an entire community.
Part of this stems from a long-
standing legacy of underrepre-
sentation. When a people has
been deprived of representation
for — well — forever, each starved
member has ample time to dream
up their own unique expectations
that one show cannot possibly
satisfy. This pattern also stems
from the long-established nor-
malization of the privileged, and
the resultant “othering” of every-
one who does not meet a certain
criterion. Even shows featuring
niche sects within privileged
groups, take Irish Catholics for
instance,
avoid
the
expecta-
tion to speak for all members of
the
community.
This is because,
as Ramy Youssef
(“Mr. Robot”), cre-
ator of a new, self-
titled Hulu show,
pointed out in his
group
interview
with The Michi-
gan Daily, privi-
leged groups have
historically
been
afforded the right
to nuance. Mar-
ginalized groups?
Not so much.
Ramy Youssef is
out to combat this
norm.
To
the
untrained
eye,
“Ramy”
appears
to be yet another vehicle for a
stand-up comedian too lazy to
think up a title for a show loosely
based on themselves. There’s
been
“Seinfeld,”
“Roseanne,”
“Ellen” and even (yes, I’m bring-
ing it up) “Mulaney.” Only this
time, the old trick comes with a
layer of complexity unfounded
in its predecessors: “I think it’s
really important to have people
authentically being themselves.
And I think, for me, my approach
in calling the show ‘Ramy’ was
to highlight from the beginning
that this is just one Arab-Muslim
story.”
In developing “Ramy,” Youssef
made it his mis-
sion to create a
show with subtle-
ties usually only
reserved for white,
presumably Chris-
tian characters. In
doing so, he has
forged a path for
future creators of
color who dream
of
a
day
when
their
identities
can be present in
their work with-
out overshadowing
the actual story, or
at the very least,
express
them-
selves
in
their
work without the
constant
anxiety
of appeasing everyone within a
community.
Produced by A24, “Ramy”
is now kin to some of the most
talked-about coming-of-age sto-
ries of recent years: “Lady Bird,”
“mid90s,” “Eighth Grade,” the
list goes on. Although this is
exceptional company to be in,
I had to wonder, in addition to
centering on an Arab-American
man, how else does “Ramy” dis-
tinguish itself as a narrative
from the seemingly never-ending
stream of projects falling under
the category of Confused Mil-
lennial Finding Him/Her/Their
selves™? Youssef’s answer was
unexpected to say the least. And
not just because genteel women
never discuss it during dinner.
Religion.
Make no mistake — Youssef,
dressed as though
he could have just
clocked out from
a long day at VICE
News, is not out to
convert the masses
or spread the word
of how “cool” reli-
gion can be like
a
cargo
short-
clad youth group
leader. His aim in
emphasizing reli-
gion in his passion
project is merely
to shed a light on
the crossroads he
has been met with
throughout
his
life in attempting
to own his faith
while willingly participating in
aspects of secularity.
While most comedies geared
towards the coveted 18-34 demo-
graphic evade discussing religion
in an earnest way and feature
characters
either
ambivalent
toward or outwardly disinterest-
ed in any element of faith, “Ramy”
attempts to bridge this divide by
crafting a nuanced depiction of
a man who is not attempting to
escape his religion and culture,
but, on the contrary, to “be his
best spiritual self.” A distinction
that is on display from the onset
of the series, in the first episode
alone, fictional Ramy Hassan
must have an awkward conver-
sation with his hookup regard-
ing her misconceptions about his
faith. She assumed he was “cul-
turally Muslim” in the same way
that she was “culturally Jewish.”
She was incorrect. I couldn’t help
but picture the scene as a meta
exchange between Youssef him-
self and other popular coming-
of-age comedies of today.
Comedy
and
religion
are
an odd couple of sorts — with
their only successful merger to
date being the archaic setup for
jokes about a rabbi and a priest
inexplicably sharing a drink at
Applebee’s. Youssef is not blind
to this reality, reasoning that,
“church, the mosque, the temple
… whatever are almost always the
punchline.” As much as I like to
perceive millennials and Gen-
eration Z as a hold-no-punches
bunch, shying away from no topic
too taboo, I had to wrangle with
the possibility that maybe we did
avoid religion like Christmas Eve
mass. Just because I am a disil-
lusioned Catholic (read: only
stuck around for the wine, then
bounced), does that mean that I
cannot appreciate a show about
someone
else’s
relationship
to
their
faith?
My
fear in beginning
Youssef’s
series
with this in mind
was that it would
be
akin
to
the
Christian
movies
they showed at my
Catholic
middle
school:
preachy,
poorly acted and
(maybe?) with an
arc related to high
school football.
It would be an
understatement
to say that this
is not “Ramy” in
the slightest. No
spoilers: There’s a condom full
of water, a cringe-inducing car
makeout and hookah. There are
clearer traces of “Atlanta” inher-
ent in “Ramy” than the Catho-
lic school staple, “Facing the
Giants.”
Rather than being a hindrance
to
my
enjoyment,
Youssef’s
exploration
of
religion
pro-
vided for a compelling internal
struggle that was refreshing to
see. In discussing the possibility
of renewal by Hulu, Ramy and
co-star Dave Merheje (“Mr. D”)
both expressed high hopes for a
second season. With commercial
and critical praise continuing to
pour in for the show, this appears
to be a very plausible matter. And
for Youssef, who was credited
with penning about half of the
first season’s episodes, he shows
no signs of writer’s block: “The
importance [of “Ramy”] lies in
that we get to highlight that you
can be very specific and do ten
episodes in a season and there’s
still so much that hasn’t been
touched. And I think if there’s
anything that is important about
(this), it’s that. We get to high-
light how hyperspecificity is
a wealth of story and probably
profitable too.”
Representation in comedy:
A talk with Ramy Youssef
ALLY OWENS
Daily TV Editor
TV INTERVIEW
Currently, to
be a person
of color with
a platform in
the media,
your visibility
comes at the
cost of your
individualism.
Youssef’s
exploration
of religion
provided for
a compelling
internal
struggle
that was
refreshing to
see.
AP