Review: ABC's Don't Trust the B---- in Apartment 23

“It's quirky, it's New York-y.”

To say that “bitch” is a controversial word would be an understatement. Though is it often referred to as “a woman’s second least favorite word”, and it is indeed a terrible one to just throw about, it’s also one that seems to be quite adaptable in its usage. In the 1997 song “Bitch” by Meredith Brooks, it became something of a not-all-that-well-though-out rallying cry for women everywhere. Joss Whedon shows were often judicious with the use of the word, allowing it to be said about the malevolent female characters while also acknowledging negative power with which men could sling it. It’s become a word that women use amongst each other as sign of friendship, and that men use in order to rob women of their personhood.

It’s perhaps no wonder then that the ABC changed the title of its latest sitcom from Don’t Trust the Bitch In Apartment 23 to Apartment 23 and then backtracked a bit to Don’t Trust the B---- in Apartment 23.  It was a title that creator Nahnatchka Khan fought in to keep in order to protect and project what she believed to be a defining characteristic of the show’s attitude. In terms of the word “bitch” – which yes, does make it’s way into the show’s dialogue – DTTBIA23 seems to follow the Meredith Brooks route, acknowledging it as a term of empowerment, while also using it as a description of the general morality of the titular character, and it makes the show all the better for it.

The b---- in question is Chloe, played with aplomb by Krysten Ritter, an actress that’s had her fair share of bitchy roles in her career, and a knack for making all of them endearing. It’s that endearing aspect that’s key to Ritter’s performance, as it helps to keep the main role from falling into to a space that’s too negative or stereotypical to work with the show’s overall aim to entertain and amuse. Instead, Chloe is presented as the female answer to the dirt bag sitcom heroes of late, the female asshole that you love to watch but hate to run into in real life. As character, Chloe is a democratizing force in television’s quest to give every demographic a textured and believable anti-hero, and the character and the show are fresher for it. The show judiciously uses her character to show us that “bitch” doesn’t have to be an automatically misogynistic caricature, but rather a rich archetype that successful actresses can sink their teeth into. And though it’s a role that’s been slotted into many dramas over the years, it’s rare to see a comedy tackle the role with such glee and success, and to create an entertaining product out of it.

Ritter’s performance is offset by Dreama Walker’s June, the sunny counterpoint to Chloe’s bitch, and the audience surrogate for the show. When she loses her job at a mortgage company and her fiancée within a week after moving to New York City, she is forced to move in with Chloe, and the two immediately set to butting heads. It’s from this good girl vs. bitch dynamic that the show seeks to mine most of comedy, a move that’s perhaps a bit precious and simplistic in terms of trying to be a long-running sitcom. Granted, the show is smart enough to make June a strong-willed person that can match Chloe’s mean streak when it’s necessary, which allows their confrontations to pop on screen, but it’s also a dynamic that seems to lack a shelf-life beyond a handful of episodes.

The show seems to be setting up a “the girls learn from one another” throughline to spin off of this premise, where Chloe grows a little bit softer thanks to June, and June becomes a little bit harder, and that’s the sort of storyline that seems better suited to 90-minute a movie than a sitcom which could potentially run for years. In all honestly, the show has sort of written itself into a corner as far as the long-term in concerned. If the show keep going with the two characters at each other throats and continues to make jokes out the character contrast time after time, then viewers will soon grow bored and start watching something else. If the show decides to have them change and grow more similar to one another, then we could end up with a muddled mess of a show that lacks personality.  

Being viable after the first batch of episodes is a problem that pretty much all premise sitcoms these days face, and while the show seems to provide very little answers in the early episodes as to how it’s going to clear that hurdle, there are luckily plenty of worthwhile distractions to keep us entertained while we wait. Those distractions comes in the form of a cast of secondary character for the girls to bounce off of, and it allows the show’s world to feel immediately fleshed out even while keeping the characters relegated to a few select blocks of real estate.

The most prominent of these is James Van Der Beek, who, as is en vogue these days, plays a fictionalized version of himself, and serves as a close friend to Chloe. While it’s a bit passé for celebrities to mock their public persona by appearing as outrageous versions of themselves, the show plays it cool with Van Der Beek by using him to comment not on the standard douche-y personality of celebrities, but rather the fickle nature of fame that man of them must face. Sure, the Van Der Beek character has a particular set of douche-y qualities, but there’s something undeniably human about him, one that makes you feel for him as he struggles to leave the Dawson persona behind, yet is constantly foiled by the show’s legions of fans.

That list of characters is rounded out by Mark (Eric Andre), June’s would-be mentor at the mortgage company and now current boss at the local coffee shop; and neighbors Eli (Michael Blaiklock) and Robin (Liza Lapira), the former who’s a sexual deviant and the latter a former roommate of Chloe who’s still obsessed with her. If these two neighbor characters sound like they are meant to be perceived as “shocking”, that’s exactly their role, and it’s indicative of the kinds of comedy that the show seems interested in selling.

Benefiting of a title that has the word “bitch” in it, the show often tries to make the audience laugh by shocking and/or surprising viewers, and often these surprises come in the form of end-of-act twists that upend all of the previous events within an episode. These twists are only fitfully successful, and tend to work based on how unpredictable they are. (The ones in the pilot are fairly easy to see coming and don’t pack much of a punch, whereas the ones in the second episode are less predictable and thus more enjoyable, even if they trade on some well-worn tropes.) Much as with the premise itself, the use of the shocking twists as part of the show’s format is something that has a limited shelf-life within the show, and that the writers will have to learn not to lean on sooner rather than later.

But as it stands currently, Don’t Trust the B---- in Apartment 23 is quite a treat. The jokes are sharp and funny – especially anything that has to do with Van Der Beek – and it all moves with the pace that one would accept from a modern sitcom. If the show can get past some of it’s potentially troubling trappings, and drop the more troubling aspects of its premise, then like Happy Endings before it, could become an incredibly strong sitcom that deserves to stay on air.

Other Thoughts:

I have yet to come up with a worthwhile abbreviation for this show, which is frustrating because I'd rather not have to write out the long and complex title more than it necessary. Your suggestions are of course welcome.

The show uses these weird and jarring webcam shots to introduce some of the tertiary characters into the show, but luckily it’s a tactic that doesn’t seem to exist beyond the first episode.

I’ve seen the first two episodes of the show, and I will have short reviews of each of them up after the air, complete with quotes and more specific, spoiler-y thoughts.

I’m not kidding about that Happy Endings comparison, at least in terms of where I see the show’s evolution going. In fact, I could see a very strong comedy block that centers on this show, Happy Endings, and Cougar Town. Make it happen, ABC!