On any given night, those of us who occupy the couch find illustrations of the disparity between the super-rich and the downtrodden middle-class, sometimes played for laughs, sometimes milked for melodrama. Across the schedule, acknowledgments of the harsh economic realities are outnumbered by the usual escapist fare, but topical notes do beam through.
Recession-era TV is finding fodder in the wealth gap. Among the comedies and dramas examining the divide:
“2 Broke Girls,” on CBS, is the Occupy Wall Street poster show. The comedy pairs a one-time heiress with a hardened member of the underclass. The roommates banter across the socioeconomic divide.
“The Middle,” on ABC, speaks to those on the verge of losing that hard-won middle-class status. The Indiana family of five struggles to make ends meet.
“Revenge,” on ABC, offers the fantasy of vengeance while at the same time allowing the audience to wallow in the fancy party attire and fabulous beach properties of the Hamptons’ private-jet set.
By bringing to life the emotional struggles of the strivers, these shows illustrate the frustrations of 99-percenters better than any street protest could.
Elsewhere, Sarah Michelle Gellar plays both sides of the abyss as variously affluent and struggling twins on CW’s “Ringer” (returning Jan. 31); HBO’s “Hung” continues the sordid tale of a man who cashes in on his singular physical asset after losing everything; even FX’s animated spy comedy “Archer” satirizes the self-involved super-rich. (Archer’s abusive treatment of his devoted elderly valet, Woodhouse, is only the beginning.)
Downwardly mobile
“Grocery shopping is so fun! When I was little, I always wondered where this stuff came from,” says Caroline, the former heiress, in an episode of “2 Broke Girls.” She’s been downwardly mobile since her Madoff-esque father went to prison, and now she marvels at the ways of the underclasses.
Blue-collar Max (Kat Dennings) believes “life will get worse,” while former trust-funder Caroline (Beth Behrs) is generally optimistic, even after losing millions. Dennings and Behrs volley socioeconomic-status quips throughout each episode, cementing their characters’ different perspectives.
Caroline: “I had a staff of 20.”
Max: “I had staph at 20.”
“The Middle” more poignantly underscores the challenges of a thrifty middle-American family barely hanging on to middle-class status, as two perennially exhausted working parents make difficult decisions about how to spend every dollar.
Patricia Heaton’s car-dealer mom, Frankie, is unsentimental when sacrificing for the family. The brilliant comedy finds laughs in her unmet needs, broken appliances and pressure to work holidays, but the Hecht family’s fear of the bank taking over the house resonates.
The sudsy “Revenge” indulges in over-the-top fantasy but taps a real rage against economic inequality. The focus is on the backstabbing elite who pull strings in politics, business and private lives, as a young woman with secrets of her own is poised for a takedown. Meanwhile, the hardworking tavern owner frets over his bills, speaking for Everyman.
Since “Gilligan”
Historically, the class divide has been good for storytelling, Charles Dickens to “Downton Abbey.” American television has enjoyed knocking the filthy rich, at least as far back as “Gilligan’s Island,” when Mr. and Mrs. Thurston Howell III (Jim Backus and Natalie Schafer) dressed for dinner while stranded on a desert isle. Those 1960s 1-percenters were depicted as pleasantly ditzy, oblivious to the travails of the Professor, the Skipper “and the rest.”
The prime-time soaps of the late 70s-early ’80s, “Dallas” and “Dynasty,” were more critical of the uber-wealthy, depicting them not as ditzes but as scheming, cheating bullies. Then it was back to mocking the mindlessness of the ridiculously rich, in the person of Karen (Megan Mullaley) on “Will & Grace” in the 1990s.
Through it all, “The Simpsons’ ” Mr. Burns has represented the worst aspects of the stingy rich, giving viewers license to hate him.
Nowadays, with the economy stalled and property values declining, it’s no wonder TV depicts the plight of the have-nots as more frightening. The super-rich are back to predatory status, seen not as unthinking so much as brutal.
The humor is darker, the vicarious thrill of toppling the dastardly elite is palpable. The deepening divide is ripe for narrative exploration.
Joanne Ostrow: 303-954-1830 or jostrow@denverpost.com
