Number Five with a Bullet. Welcome.

by Justine González

by Justine González

Let’s be clear: I only came for Zoe Kravitz. 

High Fidelity, the series on Hulu premiered dramatically, on Valentine’s Day for all the gripping singles, unhappy couples, and all the recently separated people across the U.S. It is a series reboot of a 2000 movie featuring John Cusack, which is actually based on a Nick Hornby novel from 1995. Someone decided to change the protagonist’s gender, race, and city of origin [the 2000 film is set in Chicago and the original novel in London] and boom we got a Brooklyn-based, Zoe Kravitz. 

Zoe is cute as shit as Rob the too-cool-for-you, yet super insecure, record-store owner. Her locs and seemingly meaningless tattoos, the way her voice cracks when she’s being vulnerable or laughs,  the way she lights her cigarettes... I mean Zoe Kravitz is literally a demi-goddess: TV loves beautiful people and this show is no exception. I watched episode after episode, despite many cringey moments, for the drama and the aesthetics, baby! 

Zoe Kravits as Rob.

Zoe Kravits as Rob.

Each shot is beautifully crafted and flavored by a pop color palette (the neon lights from club scenes and coffee shop signs; soft pink bed sheets contrasted by turquoise rugs) and displays an acceptable-for-mainstream-tv amount of cultural diversity and grittiness. 

High Fidelity is (generally) a sweet, sentimental and emotionally palpable series about the life of relationships. There are a shit ton of sentimental one-liners that hit deep. The cast makes this series feel real: the chemistry between Zoe and Kingsley Ben-Adir, for example, gave my emo soul life. The problem is that the characters on this show are seemingly nuanced but extremely basic overall. Cherise, for example, is the only dark-skinned woman on the show and she does THE MOST in every scene. She’s a loud, angry, black woman stereotype no matter how you cut it. For a show that is trying to be socially progressive and present an alternative Brooklyn lifestyle it feels pretty white-washed. I was very disappointed here.  

These streaming service production companies understand the use of a good formula coupled with specific data on generational tv-watching patterns. It’s pretty genius but to nitpick:

  1. This should have just been a movie (again!) I understand that we are in a constant-consumption-of-content world but the episodic delivery of this story cheapens it somehow.

  2. Shows like this (that feature a diverse cast of wayward emotional 30 something hipsters looking for purpose in love yet avoiding commitment) pander to a specific group of people: ME.  I am talking about people like me. 

The show is actually  filmed in my neighborhood of Bedstuy, Brooklyn. Let me be clear, I relate heavy to Rob. Most of my girlfriends do. We are a type. My generation can relate to the feeling of paddling around in the shallow end of a relationship. Like all women our age, we are being confronted with commitment and the decision to get married and ultimately become mothers. While the fact that we even have a choice now surely is a privilege, it’s one that is still pressurized and conditional, as we’re surrounded by stories of women who fail at living fulfilling independent lives. We see Rob go through this struggle throughout the series and think back to moments when we’ve experienced something similar.

Rob (Zoe Kravits) and Mac (Kingsley Ben-Adir) on the other side of the rock.

Rob (Zoe Kravits) and Mac (Kingsley Ben-Adir) on the other side of the rock.

As much as I can relate, Rob is also kind of the worst, though. Pretentious and with absurdly niche preferences. Her narration style guides our ability to understand what’s going on so she frequently paints herself as a victim and others as assholes. She is a self-deprecating, manipulative and ignorant narrator. Would I go as far as to say that she is an anti-hero... maybe but it’d be a stretch.  She has a superior moral compass that is extremely frustrating and looks like a cop-out for decision fatigue. Really she's just depressed, another thing many of our generation can relate to. 

Rob has inspired us all to start drafting up our top heartbreaks lists and reflect on our past selves. I mean, how could you not? She repeats these damn top five lists like she’s Arya Stark listing off the people she’s going to kill in Game of Thrones. I recently, in a quarantined-moment-of-weakness, DMed my number three and had a really healthy conversation regarding our break-up. Memories, like relationships, are super subjective and sometimes it just takes a few years of perspective (and a pandemic!) to have those difficult conversations and finally get real closure.  

Ultimately, the show grapples with the idea of finding the right match. I am at a time in my life when I am asking myself all of the questions they present, many of us are, but I can assure you, this show doesn’t answer a single one of these questions for you. You gotta do the hard work of figuring it out on your own, babies. It does prompt you to think about these big questions deeply, though. I would recommend that you watch the show because of this but also for the escapism. High Fidelity presents us all with a shiny gem of advice -- you must process your past in order to be fully aware and grounded in your present. As such, I’ve gone full Justine and have begun to create playlists for my top heartbreaks - including those that I’ve caused. Music is a powerful therapy and to honor this, I’ve shared one of my playlists with you all. Stay strong, listen to emotionally-charged music, and watch good tv.