It’s fair to say Justin Simien’s Netflix adaptation of his 2014 film Dear White People ruffled a few feathers. The mere sight of the trailer was enough to send some people into social media rants about reverse racism, mostly along the lines of Donald Trump’s contention that ABC’s Black-ish – based on its title alone – equalled “racism at the highest level”. The question of what equals racism was at the heart of the film that earned high praise but also accusations of over-simplifying race to fit narrow stereotypes.

The best TV shows this week: Dear White People gets a 10-part spin-off Read more

Those who struggled with the satire’s black and white portrayal of collegiate life could be satisfied here. Over 10 episodes Simien essentially goes over the same ground the film did (almost shot-for-shot in the first episode), but this time has much more space to explore and each episode focuses on a different character. First there’s Sam, the bi-racial protagonist of the film who Tessa Thompson turned into the charged but conflicted conscience of Winchester college. Here she’s played by Logan Browning, and again her front of uber wokeness isn’t all it’s made out to be. She may be the radio host of a college show which calls out micro aggressions and white privilege, but why doesn’t she tell her best friends she’s got a white boyfriend?

She’s the main tormenter of Pastiche, the satirical Winchester rag that hosts (or does it?) a blackface party that drives much of the show’s action. The thing that makes Dear White People more than a mere second go around is that Simien takes the opportunity to show what’s driving each character to take the positions they have. Lionel, the sexually confused amply afro’d would-be reporter, is back and this time his gradual progression from wallflower to revolt leader is given its own 30-minute treatment. Likewise, Troy the show’s machismo core, is easier to understand once his relationship with his pushy father is given more screen time.

The storyline that best shows why this adaptation works is the development of the friendship between the outspoken Sam, and the more conservative Coco, played by Antoinette Robertson. That relationship, which starts as a friendly co-dependent pact as the two find their feet as freshmen but devolves into mutual anathema, provides the best episode of all. In it Simien manages to cram in issues of black beauty, skin color prejudice, insecurity around social standing, and explore what happens when someone decides to take a stand on a platform where race is central.

The death of a black teenager at the hands of a white police officer fuels the unrest between the two and also serves as a way for Simien to bring the action up to date. He also produces a hilarious parody of Scandal (the not-too subtle Defamation), which is required viewing for the school’s black population. The dialogue too sets the action firmly in 2017, such as when head-in-the-clouds Kelsey says, “I only thought this happened in the 50s or in BuzzFeed articles” after the blackface party. For those who think the show is inherently controversial, there’s more grist for their mill here. White characters are often secondary, serving as cautionary tales or ways to instigate conflict between the black populous. But on a show that’s clearly not pulling it’s punches when it comes to race and its role in society, would you expect anything else?