6 Reasons Why ‘Schitt’s Creek’ is the Worst Show on TV
Warning: Contains spoilers about racism and classism and more!
If you’ve opened Netflix in recent memory, you’ve probably noticed Schitt’s Creek dominating the Top 10. The show swept the Emmy’s this year with nine awards and has been capturing hearts of audiences everywhere. From creators Dan and Eugene Levy, the sitcom chronicles a fabulously wealthy family, the Rose’s, who lose all their money after being defrauded by their company’s business manager, thus forcing them to relocate to their sole remaining asset — a small town called Schitt’s Creek which Johnny, the father, purchased for his son David as a joke for his birthday in 1991. Audiences and critics alike are eating this shit up, so why is it one of the most problematic shows on television?
Well, it’s racist, it’s classist, and it positions itself as heartwarming and even virtuous. Put simply, this show is everything that’s wrong with America (and Canada, since that’s where Dan Levy claims on Buzzfeed that Schitt’s Creek is located, though every spoken reference in the show alludes to their former and continued lives in America).
Here’s why:
1. White writers have created yet another nonracist, “colorblind” utopia
Eugene Levy and his son Dan Levy are the co-creators of Schitt’s Creek. Eugene Levy has been writing, acting and producing since the early 70s. He rose to fame writing and acting in Christopher Guest’s mockumentaries (such as A Mighty Wind and Best in Show). He brings not only the same sardonic wit and charm to Schitt’s Creek, but the same penchant for making goofy if elusive social commentary. The Levy’s make all kinds of sociopolitical statements in this comedic sitcom, but what is the value of making moralistic statements when you haven’t really considered or included the perspectives of others?
Schitt’s Creek established an almost unanimously white writer’s room, which is unfortunately common for Hollywood. What’s unacceptable about this show is that these writers chose to create an “inclusive” feel-good sitcom about life in a small Canadian (or American, since there’s no allusion to anything other than their rich histories of living in America — the Levy’s wrote, cast and produced the show in Hollywood and live between Los Angeles and Toronto) town where racism somehow doesn’t exist. They threw in a few Black Jazzagals as extras with almost no lines, had a slew of people of color cycling through as extras in the café and elsewhere in town, and featured Ronnie, a Black queer woman as a major character in the show.
Ronnie’s role in this show reads as blaxploitation; she’s inserted like a token Black person to add just the right amount of sass and judgment and eye rolling, but the audience never hears about what nuanced experiences Ronnie might have in a rural, apparently predominantly white town in Canada or America (Canada is as violently racist as America). It is audacious and ignorant for a group of fairly homogeneous white showrunners to gloss over anything about racism in a small American town — especially given their attempts to convey “inclusivity” through LGBTQ+ plotlines.
Furthermore, Ray’s character, played by Rizwan Manji, puts on a thick, stereotypical Indian accent to play up his intended goofiness. He is an immigrant with multiple jobs who is desperately trying to “fit in” or “make it” but is continuously exploited for comic relief (though what in particular actually makes this character “funny” aside from run-of-the-mill “let’s laugh at the Brown immigrant with the funny accent” brand of racism?).
If you’re thinking, “Oh, it’s just a TV show! Can’t it just be fun, you SJW Grinch?” then please await #6.
2. Small towns are jokes and/or punishments
I can’t speak to the demographics of the Schitt’s Creek audience. Presumably, there are people in small towns across the country watching the show. But the name of the show, and many of the corresponding motifs are profoundly demeaning to small towns and the people living in them. Dan Levy conceptualized Schitt’s Creek as existing in a “hick town” with “simple-minded” people. The show’s eponymous town evokes what many “Coastal Elite” types already associate with life outside of sophisticated metropolises: a shithole.
Characters from the town in Schitt’s Creek are often cast as some of the most degrading stereotypes of people in rural places. Roland Schitt, the town mayor, is constantly framed as a lovable, bumbling idiot with a big beer belly and a mullet. His wife Joceleyn maintains a saccharine demeanor while donning a rotation of cheap cat sweatshirts and cooking all manner of cheese balls and similar culinary creations which, in one episode actually induce a fatal heart attack in a guest character. Twyla is hopelessly smiley and nice and naïve, even when she’s blatantly disrespected.
The generations-old sign for the town clearly appears to feature Roland’s great-grandfather anally penetrating his great-grandmother, which clueless Roland can’t comprehend. The younger characters relentlessly drink from apparent boredom. All the gullible women in the town have long since fallen victim to a cosmetics pyramid scheme that Moira, the mother, tries to rope them into. The women’s clothing from the Blouse Barn, the only place near town where “nicer” women’s clothing is available, is filled with cheap, trashy and downright ugly garments. The local vineyard is so disgusting, the Rose’s can hardly even swallow their wine. And still, most people in the small town are so starstruck by Moira having once been a soap opera star, they gawk and extend all kinds of favors and gifts to the Rose’s.
Just the very idea that the Rose family was sent to Schitt’s Creek as a punishment is deeply symbolic of how urbanites view the provincial life: as a punishment. That life in a small town could be considered rock bottom demonstrates how disrespectful and disconnected the creators of Schitt’s Creek are from life in the kind of place where they chose to base this show. Similar to these questionable choices about featuring people of color without having much diversity on their own staff, it’s insulting and wrong for a group of rich people who have predominantly lived in cities to write so carelessly about poorer people living in the country.
3. Class privilege is unacknowledged as the characters “build their way” back to prosperity
It is prejudiced for urban Hollywood writers to write mockingly about life in rural towns because it relies on denigrating people for having less money. In other words, it’s classist. America’s wealth- and celebrity-obsessed culture industry has long churned out content that derides “the simple life” — but what’s disgracefully neoliberal about this show is how it gives the impression of being principled. Leave it to liberal rich white comedians to debase poor people and ignore racism while celebrating “radical” gay plotlines and touching audiences with a delightfully narcissistic, family-oriented, conventionally attractive and ultra-privileged brood (does this sound a bit like the Kardashians? Because Dan Levy came up with the show idea while watching them and wondering what they’d be like without money).
Worse yet, this “progressive” show features the family building themselves back to prosperity over the course of a few years. The plotline of how the characters come back into business success, financial success, fame and property ownership is as American as it gets. Some diehard fans will maintain that the family “worked really hard” and had to learn a lot of lessons before getting back on their feet, but the reality is that no grit, rugged individualism or picking themselves up by their bootstraps negates the fact that this family had an obscene amount of privilege and power — even when their material wealth was mainly taken from them (not so much that Moira wouldn’t casually wear a $3000 Balenciaga dress or any of the other expensive designer clothes she had on rotation in each episode. The characters were never so poor that the net worth of their clothing alone would be any less than $100,000 — probably significantly more than that).
Johnny uses old investor connections in the end to develop the motel empire (which was Stevie’s idea, although there are some paternalistic undertones that suggest Johnny has “saved” Stevie and even Roland, who joins their partnership when he and Joceleyn unexpectedly had a baby and needed extra cash); Moira has old industry connections that get her another chance in acting; Alexis, with the privilege of being her celebrity mother’s publicist right out of community college, seems to land a dream marketing job at a Netflix equivalent in New York — usually a job that easily rakes in six figures; David takes the “tiny” $40,000 gift he was randomly given from his brief stint at the Blouse Barn and becomes the owner of an upscale lifestyle store.
David is the only one who stays in Schitt’s Creek, but he has a thriving business that he may also franchise (as he had discussed when they considered moving to New York), a husband and a gorgeous house. The message is clear — Schitt’s Creek was sweet for teaching a few valuable lessons, but it’s still a place to be overcome and to leave, unless you have a thriving trendy business and a Town & Country-esque piece of property.
4. Character development ultimately centers around accumulation of wealth, property, business success and fame
It’s fine for characters (or anyone) to succeed financially, in business, and so on, but it’s disingenuous how that comes to fruition in this show. The characters are made to seem as though they have overcome the immoral selfishness that came with being grotesquely wealthy, but each character’s development still culminates in them achieving the superficial “American dream.” Yes, there’s undeniable healing of family relationships that occur as well (which I don’t find particularly believable in light of how wildly selfish and detached the family members were from one another prior to the financial loss — this is important almost singularly as a rebuttal to anyone who claims it wouldn’t be “believable” for the characters to simply accept and find joy and purpose in staying in the town without much money or power to redeem them); David makes important progress in opening to a relationship and Alexis learns to find purpose outside of chasing men.
But Alexis still presumably becomes just another #Girlboss, Moira is still a condescending narcissist who is obsessed with fame, but now has new opportunities to be fawned over, Johnny is still obsessed with running a business empire, and David is still judgmental and pretentious but now has his own upscale boutique and a husband who makes his narcissism seem more endearing. The ending of this show feels like trying to have your cake and eat it too; none of the characters actually seems like they learned a whole lot about valuing community over individual wealth and power. And no, that isn’t different from most media narratives — most shows and movies involve some conception of “happily ever after” that includes becoming rich or powerful or famous — but this show should.
Why? Because as most critic reviews for this show contend, this is a show that was created with an “inclusive mindset,” written with a “humanist” and “moral” perspective. Maybe it is more realistic that characters this awful should simply grow within their narrow limitations instead of fundamentally change, but why does TV need to be more “realistic” — especially in a show that is so flamboyant? There is so much content out there that goads audiences into sympathizing with “nuanced” rich people. Unsurprisingly, in the Netflix documentary about Schitt’s Creek, multiple cast members from Bojack Horseman, a show about a down-on-his-luck rich has-been celebrity with a disturbing record of sexually assaulting minors (another show urging audiences to develop sympathy for people who almost certainly do not need any more of it), exalted the brilliance of Schitt’s Creek.
Schitt’s Creek has a fanatic base that is clearly influenced by the characters. As Dan Levy has said, “It’s amazing to think that our show, which is ultimately just a comedy — 21 minutes and 53 seconds of humor — has the ability to change how people see the world.” Even if in jest, their mannerisms have been mimicked and memed across the internet; fan clothing and merchandise and Moira Rose Halloween costumes abound. The point is, this is an influential show with a massive fan base. What would be so wrong with the characters embracing and accepting life beyond superficial and aesthetic pleasures?
The answer probably isn’t anything about what’s “believable;” the answer probably lies in the same reason why viewership of shows like the Kardashians or The Bachelor has been so high. Most people want a happily ever after that’s fabulously wealthy, full of expensive chic clothing and fame and power. Most people don’t want substance from media, they want entertainment.
5. Having a “radical” gay love plotline doesn’t make the show humanistic, moral or radical
If it seems like I’m holding a sitcom to a standard that is way too high, I probably am. But Dan Levy, who seems to be just as pompous in real life as he is on the show, is constantly boasting about how proud he is to have “put something out into the world that seems to be effecting change in a good way.” And the thing is, society has absolutely been shaped by sitcoms — Modern Family is often credited with playing a significant role in gaining marriage equality. But this isn’t 2015 (which isn’t to say there isn’t a lot more work to do in LGBTQ+ rights), and this show didn’t use its power the way it could’ve.
It is a hallmark of a phenomenon referred to as “pinkwashing” to pose something as progressive on the sole basis of LGBTQ+ representation, although it may be ignorant and/or prejudicial in the context of racism, classism, or any other intersections of identity. An example of this is having predominantly corporate floats at Pride parades — corporations are made to seem progressive for symbolic gestures of accepting the gay community, though corporations systemically and routinely discriminate against women and minorities, and perpetuate hierarchies and products that propel inequality and exploitation of all kinds in capitalism.
Dan Levy made a decision to create a small town where “there is zero prejudice” — one of the first lines written in a glowing article by a white gay senior editor at Glamour about why they are “flying the flag for Schitt’s Creek!” To be fair, it absolutely is unusual and significant that gay love is highlighted in a meaningful way that doesn’t involve struggle or homophobia. It’s critical that more LGBTQ+ representation in the media doesn’t revolve around conflict or censorship to make relationships palatable to possibly bigoted audiences. But that doesn’t mean this show is radical or good.
Again, there is nothing radical, humanistic or moral about making the brazen decision to eliminate ALL prejudice from a small Canadian or American town, based on the limited experience of being a white, rich gay man. It’s beautiful that families everywhere can experience a bit of life where loving gay relationships are normalized just as heterosexual ones, but it’s a disgusting disservice to American audiences to provide yet another colorblind oasis where white people feel comfortable and even inspired to ignore issues of race (or class). When privileged white gay men are asking “wouldn’t the world be a better place if everywhere was like this?” about postracial classist fantasylands, everyone should stop and question what “better” really means.
Racial and economic inequality in America (and Canada) is horrific. The Uprisings earlier this year as well as the continued panic many families are experiencing through the pandemic are evidence of this. America doesn’t need any more feel-good shows reinforcing neoliberal post-racial values that make rich people seem more lovable and reinforce the cuteness and aspirational nature of being rich — not “comfortable,” but rich. As in, deriving a specific sense of pleasure and/or smugness at the expense of people working beneath you, or just for the sick satisfaction of being admired by people who are struggling or have less than you. In other words, there’s nothing radical about pinkwashed, racist, capitalist propaganda.
6. Like most TV shows, this one hides behind a veneer of “fun” and “lighthearted” entertainment to avoid accountability for perpetuating problematic cultural norms.
Few things anger people more than coming after their favorite media content. I criticize Schitt’s Creek not because it’s the most egregious show that’s ever been produced, but because it does have the unique privilege of reaching a huge, cultish audience, and it squandered the opportunity to do something truly radical with that platform. People are so beaten down in this country, currently by the pandemic, but even before that (and still) by being overworked, struggling to pay medical bills, struggling to pay student loans, struggling against racism, struggling for equal rights, struggling through a violent political climate and so on. The desire to find solace in feel-good content makes total sense.
And yet, so many of these struggles are born of the indifference to and willful ignorance of how all of these things are deepened by the content we consume. The “cultish” following of Schitt’s Creek is a common media phenomenon; media informs culture and vice versa. When a loving and trendy family such as the Rose’s become religiously memed and costumed and commoditized, it’s a direct reflection of how media seeps into the collective consciousness and informs morality, desires and behavior.
The Levy’s didn’t invent the wheel for classist and racist attitudes as fodder for entertainment in Hollywood. But they don’t deserve all the acclaim they have received. It’s not wrong to enjoy this show. It’s by many measures a very funny and even heartwarming show at times. But it’s also possible and important to hold media accountable. If we want to build a better world, we need to welcome being more critical of the media we consume and consider the subtle and overt messages they convey. Television and film can be both heartwarming and light and not pander to racism, classism or sexism. There’s a place in-between, but we can only get there if we stop “stanning” for content because it’s “fun” and we’re tired or sad or bored.
