I wouldn't call myself a TV series person, but for obvious reasons, I've had extra time at home this year, and I've found myself compulsively drawn to one show. No, it's not Tiger King (innocent) nor Emily in Paris (guilty).
In fact, the show is actually 30 years old, but for me, it's been the perfect accompaniment to 2020: The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. How could a show whose theme song begins, "Now this is a story all about how my life got flipped turned upside down" fail to ring particularly true this year?
From climate change to racial justice: How far have we come?
The American family comedy ran from 1990-96 and became a smash hit, launching Will Smith's acting career. Since it debuted, it has been broadcast around world, in languages from Spanish to German to Russian.
The premise, familiar to millions, is simple: A street-smart Black teen from West Philadelphia moves out to the mansions of Bel-Air, Los Angeles, to live with his rich lawyer uncle and college professor aunt, their three kids and the sarcastically deadpan British butler.
Lifestyles clash, and conversations about Black identity ensue, as does family drama, most of it taking place in the obviously studio living room and kitchen — but hey, my life's been centered on those rooms lately, too.
Despite the show's age, its themes are universally relatable and undeniably globally relevant in 2020. Watching episodes about the inevitability of being pulled over in your car because of the color of your skin or the absence of Black history in school curricula made me ask myself how far we've really come in a year when we've seen worldwide protests against police brutality and racial profiling and for the decolonization of history. The awareness is greater, the movement is wider, but the crimes remain the same.
Every mention by the older sister about attending climate change protests bluntly underlined how the planet's ongoing existential crisis has been drawing people to the streets for decades — even if she was primarily motivated by her social image. Today, she'd be taking protest selfies.
New meaning in the coronavirus era
Not all the show's elements have aged well, though I'm not talking about the clothes. (As a child of the 90s, I've got a soft spot for neon, denim on denim and nylon windbreakers.)
Punchlines with gay relations as the butt of the joke, backed with audience laughter, hung heavy in front of my screen. Contemporary shows can't get away with this anymore. That's a good thing. It's called progress. And in a year that's often felt stagnant, it has been important to be reminded that over the long term things can change for the better.
Then there were the instances that resonated in a way unintended by The Fresh Prince's creators. When the grandma who just got over the flu and the uncle argue about whether she should be allowed to leave the house, I couldn't help think of similar conversations I've had with my family this year, as we — like so many others, I suspect — have struggled to balance protecting our elderly from COVID and their desires to live fulfilling lives.
And how could anyone in 1994 have known that a certain blond poofy-haired, thin-lipped real-estate mogul with a walk-on, walk-off cameo would one day go on to be US president? While The Donald's guest appearance definitely disrupted my TV break from reality, I at least got to live vicariously through the younger daughter, who yells at him, "Thank you for ruining my life." That was rather cathartic.
It feels good to laugh
From absent fathers to life after the loss of a spouse, The Fresh Prince thoughtfully handles the heavy stuff of drama. But it's a comedy — one that doesn't take itself too seriously. It made me laugh. And I needed reasons to laugh this year, with bad news piled upon bad news.
I also needed the show's nostalgia — nostalgia for a time when I watched it with my family under one roof; for a time when George H.W. Bush was president (never thought I would write that!); and for a time when you had to haul out the VHS camcorder if you wanted to make a home video. In a year that has been, to put it mildly, a dumpster fire, indulging in such nostalgia, even if superficial, has been comforting.
The Fresh Prince is wrapping up its 30th anniversary year with a remake in the works, a sleek-looking dramatic twist on the original. I'll watch it when it comes out. But until then — or at least until Netflix Germany pulls the old series off its platform — you'll find me on my sofa re-watching the best show of 2020.