Getty Images/ Ringer sketch
The Golden Globe-winning actress/ jester/ rapper’s new show is no’ Farewell, ’ but there are some euphoriums to watching it
Midway through the captain escapade of the brand-new Comedy Central stoner-goofball sitcom Awkwafina Is Nora From Queens, our superstar and titular ace, who probably should’ve gotten a Best Actress Oscar nomination last week, experiences herself dancing awkwardly in a humiliating red dragon organization on 420 camchicks.com. It’s that kind of show. It’s fine. She is dancing with her friend Chenise( Makeda Declet ), who is dressed like a container majorette and offerings spur: “I don’t know how, but I think they’re liking it, ” she yells, checking her laptop. “Guy from Tasmania only bequeathed a bitcoin.” Ennobled, Nora gets too excited( “I’m gonna come that Bezos money! I’m gonna back up the truck! ” ), lumps into a candle whilst backing up the truck, and unknowingly lamps her dragon fanny on fire.
CHENISE[ fright ]: “Ooooh, you’re lit! ”
NORA[ forgetful ]: “I’m lit! ”
CHENISE: “No , no, you’re on fire! ”
NORA[ still oblivious ]: “I’m on fire! ”
CHENISE: “Your tail! ”
NORA[ no longer oblivious ]: “Whaaaat? ”
Fiery hilarity follows. Well, six seconds’ worth of fiery exhilaration, anyway–Comedy Central ain’t come much of a stunt plan. Still, make that be a lesson to you about the dangers of abusing rap-adjacent slang, although an unusual ingenuity with rap-adjacent slang is a huge part of the same reasons Awkwafina went this gig in the first place.
Awkwafina Is Nora From Queens, which entries Wednesday night and is already renewed for Season 2, does indeed tell the quaint, semiautobiographical fib of the young woman of Chinese and Korean American descent born Nora Lum( in Queens) who firstly skyrocketed to viral renown as Awkwafina via the 2012 rap parody “My Vag.” Yes, “My vag prevailed Best Vag, ” rapped the sassy multihyphenate hypebeast who would, eight years later, prevail the 2020 Golden Globe for Best Actress in a Motion Picture, Musical or Comedy. “Your vag won Best Supporting Vag.”
Her voice had not yet acquired the signature booming CBD-and-sandpaper rasp that manufactures her definitely sounds like, as she settled it, “a 58 -year-old divorce attorney.”( “Even servicemen, when they impersonate my singer, they become lower.”) Nor was Awkwafina yet fully reclining into the outlandish street-rapper caricature often is reproduced in both heated Twitter yarns and diplomatic think articles as a “blaccent, ” still a thorny question in 2018, when she broken out via near-simultaneous scene-stealing roles in Ocean’s Eight and Crazy Rich Asians.( “You gon’ roll up to that wedding, you gon’ be like, bak bak, bitch.”)
The cumulative solution is softly one of the stranger budding-superstar arcs of our times, and a Comedy Central vehicle is not exactly the highest point of that arc: Awkwafina Is Nora From Queens has been in the works since 2017 at least, and presents a dramatic step down from The Farewell, the tender and visceral 2019 Lulu Wang film that truly deserved Awkwafina that Golden Globe.( “This is great, ” her splendidly deadpan acceptance speech began. “If I ever fall on hard times, I can sell this.”) Thus does the display simultaneously depict a fictional 27 -year-old deadbeat striving and a real-life 31 -year-old Hollywood phenom slumming.
Awkwafina Is Nora From Queens is fine. Dumb, but penalty. Pretty dumb, though. It is plainly striving for Broad City-style lovable-loser vibrance and clearly doesn’t get there, in part because it can’t hope to manufacture anything approaching Abbi-and-Ilana chemistry.( It’s emphatically no The Other Two, either .)
Which is not to say that Awkwafina doesn’t surround herself with aptitude. BD Wong, for example, plays her mesmerizingly chill father and moves the aviator with a dazed impression of her birth: “You know that your mom was in labor for like 37 hours? You clung onto her uterus like the Thing. It was so gross, follower. I hurled up on the nurse.” Saturday Night Live rookie Bowen Yang, whose haughty eyebrows should immediately get their own separate Comedy Central vehicles, has a too-fleeting role as a stuffy Silicon Valley doofus; Lori Tan Chinn, as Nora’s profane grandmother, does the best she can with the wearisome profane-grandmother gig.( “I told the hairdresser I wanted to look like Eminem” is much funnier, for the record, than “This was a picture of my vagina after my hysterectomy.”)
Awkwafina herself, meanwhile, radiates a rapturous and apparently brainless off-kilter charm that shines brighter the subtler it is. She’s a living-at-home burnout who can’t get( and/ or deter) a activity, who snorts Adderall, who is smart enough to count placards at an Atlantic City blackjack table but dopey enough to announce that she’s doing so, who gamely delivers paths like, “They should’ve called it’ bi-school, ’ cause I was bi as fucking back then. Bisexual. Vagina and penis.” But the funniest thing she does in the pilot( mood: sincere) is simply roll down her vehicle opening, an resonate of the funniest thing she does in Crazy Rich Asians.
This broad and spotty show is a hell of a time to absorb the lesson that the mantra Less Is More applies to this person extremely, though The Farewell once proved that in dramatically different, and in fact nearly incompatible, contexts. What I’m saying is that it’s immensely jarring the first time Nora orders her tiresomely demoralize Comedy Central grandmother Nai Nai.
The triumph of Awkwafina in The Farewell–she aces as the similarly adrift Billi, who tours from NYC back to China so her family can say goodbye to her grandmother, who is( humanely, arguably) oblivious she’s dying of cancer–is not the tired old-time dopey jester gets striking by entirely checking her wackiness cliche, but something savvier and quieter and more sweetly ravaging. It’s a movie about suppressing your ardours, about not saying or for that matter not playing what you’re feeling, where the whole drastic pressure is whether Billi’s ever going to crack and react like she’s a courage in an Oscar-worthy drama.( The Farewell really should’ve been nominated for, like, 10 Oscars, dammit .)
Moreover, like Crazy Rich Asians( an preposterous success) or Ocean’s Eight( a moneymaker but a sizable regret) or even late 2019 ’s Jumanji: The Next Level( experts concur she plagiarizes it ), it’s an ensemble fragment wherein Awkwafina’s star power multiplies tenfold for every other person in the formulate. With Billi, the volatile troublemaker, the cartoonish faildaughter, even the problematic viral-video scamp Awkwafina represents is always present, but checked in a natural and heartbreaking method. The camera glances on, unblinking and unmoving, as Billi and her beloved Nai Nai( Zhao Shuzhen) work through Nai Nai’s morning utilizations, clique each other, chortling and walking off camera. There’s simultaneously nothing and everything to this: They’re barely behaving at all, and yet communicating a dozen teary-eyed monologues’ worth of fresh feeling.
Part of that fresh feeling is the small miracle of a movie predominantly set in China getting any non-foreign-category Golden Globes tending at all; for all her culture-clashing singularity, every new milestone Awkwafina hittings is partially a victory of representation, very.( Her monologue when she hosted SNL in 2018 was quite wobbly until she terribly endearingly exclaimed out Lucy Liu, the only other Asian wife to ever host the picture .) Which in turn impels the blaccent proof especially tricky, and the Comedy Central indicate, which very explicitly harkens back to Awkwafina’s roots–in a comical promotional takeover, for 1 week simply, she’s the voice of the no. 7 study–is of course mired in Queens, in her pre-rap-star salad days, in her genre- and identity-fluid origin story that is technically currently being carried out. In the early bouts it’s treading lightly, rap-braggadocio-wise, and anyway, her last-place melodic assignment, the 2018 EP In Fina We Trust, politely suggests that hip-hop is not her future, with all due respect to the line “Pussy so wet that it swim with fishes.”
No, her future appears to lie in literally everything and everywhere else. It is unfair maybe to compare Nora Is Awkwafina From Queens to the low-key mastery of The Farewell or the much higher-key mastery of the several recent Comedy Central testifies considerably better than it. The show is fine, albeit terribly stupid, and it’s an entirely different drastic sport that simply underscores her ability–a little embarrassing but wholly undeniable–to play a whole lot of different boasts. “My trajectory doesn’t make any sense, ” Awkwafina told The New York Times last week, in a diplomatic reply to the suggestion that this sitcom was inconvenient to her bizarrely stratospheric career. She’s above it. You’re above it, more. But there is pleasure, albeit also a sense of fuzzy uneasines, in watching her semigracefully wallow it in regardles.
Read more: theringer.com