In mainstream TV, mass-appeal comedy is now the hardest nut to crack. As the truth of this sinks in, one imagines network executives weeping. A hit comedy is just so darn lucrative and now the sources are drying up.
Looking at recent Nielsen ratings in the United States with the new fall season under way, some terrible truths become evident. The Fox drama Empire is doing fabulously well, often in the No. 1 position. In second and third place you'll find Modern Family and The Big Bang Theory. You have to search way, way down the charts to find an even newish comedy that is having an impact.
One is Black-ish, the ABC single-camera comedy with Anthony Anderson as an African-American advertising executive who tries to pass on some of his bad-ass urban heritage to his uninterested, bourgeois children. Returning soon, and certain to get good ratings again, is Fresh Off the Boat, based on Eddie Huang's memoir about his Asian-American family running a Western-style steakhouse in Florida.
Both shows are niche comedies, anchored in race and identity, and both are excellent. Right now it is niche comedy that's thriving. It's specificity that clicks. The wonderful Jane the Virgin (on The CW and on Shomi in Canada) is far from being a huge ratings success but it has a strong following in the Hispanic audience it is aimed at.
It's not all about race and identity, though. The new and madly ambitious Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (also on The CW and tonight on Global at 10 p.m.) seems tailored for a millennial audience, one that's ready for an outrageous take on relationship comedy.
The show is that – it's a musical, a satire and it packs some vicious wit. Essentially it's about Rebecca (Rachel Bloom) who decides on impulse to quit her New York legal job and move west to pursue a boyfriend she had for a single summer, a decade earlier.
What ensues is a crackpot comedy that mocks a lot of rom-com clichés while being sympathetic to Rebecca. And the musical numbers aren't glorified pop videos – they're elaborate, brilliantly choreographed explosions of action. It's a breathtaking comedy.
While it's delicious and fresh, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend isn't for everybody. But that's the point. The audience that's still tuning into Modern Family and Big Bang, week after week, would be unnerved by it. Those two old stalwart comedies are on shaky legs these days, but viewers want the familiarity of known characters and cozy jokes. It's comfort food.
Meanwhile on cable there are the smart political satires such as Veep or The Brink on HBO. Or Louie on FX. Again, these are very much niche comedies, much admired by critics and enjoyed by viewers. But their reach is tiny when compared with the vast audience reached by Big Bang Theory or in the past by Two and a Half Men or Friends or Seinfeld.
Essentially, those days are over. For viewers who expected to see something of their own lives and experiences reflected on mainstream TV, the end was probably too long in coming. Now there are niche comedies for everyone. And everybody is still laughing, except the executives who long for the old days of long-running, mass-appeal sitcoms.
Also airing tonight
The Woman Who Joined the Taliban (CBC, 9 p.m. on Firsthand) is summarized by CBC as, "The tragic story of a lost woman looking for meaning and a home, but who walks into hell." That is an understatement. Made by Vanessa Dylyn, it is the story of Beverley Giesbrecht, a businesswoman and devout Christian living near Vancouver who, after the events of September 11, turned her life upside down, converted to Islam and started a journey that would eventually take her into core Taliban territory in the mountains of Pakistan.
It's a bewildering story about a bewildering, complex and charismatic woman who initially saw her role as a facilitator between two warring cultures. She launched a website, Jihad Unspun, which presented "an alternate view of militant Islam" and then, throwing all caution to the wind, sent out to make a first-person documentary about her investigation of the Taliban. It was no surprise to others that she was taken captive by Taliban fighters who figured she had to be an American spy.
The footage from her attempted documentary is baffling. She seems outraged that the Taliban refuse to let her interview women. She is determined, but ferociously unaware. What exactly motivated her is the program's great central mystery. And it's a brutally poignant documentary.