Betty
It's fitting that the same network that stepped in to save "Sesame Street" would also invest in a new, post-modern approach to the "ABC Afterschool Special." That's a high compliment, and the best way to describe "Betty," a six-episode arc that riffs off the same semi-fictional characters filmmaker Crystal Moselle explored with her extraordinary 2018 Sundance film, "Skate Kitchen."
In the six half-hour installments that make up Season One, a group of street smart young women (their exact age is vague, but late teens seems accurate) bond over their love of skateboarding and the challenges of being poor, female, and, in many cases, non-white in New York City in 2020. Tonally it shares more with "Luke Cage" than "90210," and it's the honesty and specificity of experience for the five "Bettys" that give the show its central joy.
"Betty" isn't heavy on plot. Rather it's an intimate tapestry, richly woven by Moselle and her writers to give these non-actors the space to share their lives. Although the events are fictionalized, "Betty" feels like a documentary, and the ensemble of women draw on a decade of history to deliver a story of self-discovery and hope.
There is not a weak link in the cast. From Nina Moran's class clown to Moonbear's shy, smart filmmaker character Honeybear, every member of the Skate Kitchen (the name of the all-girls skateboarding collaborative that inspired the movie and the series) has a story to tell and a lesson to learn. With its combination of cin�ma v�rit� and magnificent filler shots capturing the youth culture of NYC, "Betty" is a powerful and almost spontaneous revelation of post-modern, urban sisterhood and womanhood in the age of #MeToo and "Fleabag."