It’s impossible to tell whether the creators of the Comedy Central series Broad City drew any inspiration from Tyga’s classic 2012 single “Rack City” in a brainstorming session, but it’s easy enough to see how their show is no stranger to a similar dose of shock factor. If anything could read as a cheeky response to a sexist rap video, it’s a series whose entire pilot revolves around a quest to get to a Lil’ Wayne concert via any means necessary and whose second episode is dubbed “P*$$y Weed.” But hey, maybe I’m reading too much into this.
The titular “broads” of Broad City aren’t afraid to ramp up the raunchiness, but underscoring this impulse would only belittle their daring brilliance. On the surface, they’re horny, twenty-something slackers with dead-end jobs and an affinity for greenery. On the other hand, they’re fiercely loyal best friends with a tendency to get into absurd situations like going to an island to retrieve a package for a hot neighbor, or biking the streets of New York in formalwear as they attempt to make it to a “straight wedding.”
While any other show about female friends would incur some kind of relationship drama or workplace brouhaha, Broad City takes a brave step by eliminating all that from the equation. What’s left is an extended, “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” video with the volume turned way up. Abbi and Ilana aren’t looking for love or major strides up the professional ladder—they just want to have a good time, eager to leave destruction in their wake.
At times, this basic premise can skew a little towards the formulaic—many an episode seems to start with the raw material of a mundane crisis (having your phone stolen, getting locked out of your apartment, or killing time during a hurricane) in order to nurture a kind of comic petri dish for absurdity to thrive, since there’s little central plot to speak of. Still, all that’s easily forgiven when there’s enough hilarity involved.
Looking at the broader picture, what’s interesting about Broad City is that it’s the baby of a network whose target audience is men from 18 to 34. Though I’m as much a fan of The Colbert Report and The Daily Show as anyone, I confess I’ve often skipped past Comedy Central with the preconception that it leant a little too heavily on dick jokes and toilet humor. Let’s just say Broad City has played a major role in my conversion.
The other player is a little more polished and established, though still as wonderfully raunchy. Inside Amy Schumer has two seasons under its belt and received an Emmy nomination for best comedy variety series this year, standing out in a male-dominated category. Helmed by NSFW Queen Amy Schumer, the show combines skits, stand-up, and interviews with colorful characters (such as a stripper) to form a satirical portrait of modern womanhood.
Like Broad City, Inside Amy Schumer is heavy on the sex stuff (Amy Schumer does have a stand-up special called, “Mostly Sex Stuff”), but the skits tend more to target social tendencies of privileged women and the Greater Forces that affect them. That’s not to say it’s less relatable, but that it just has a little more satirical bite. Ladies who brunch are a favored target, competing about who has eaten the most or who can receive a compliment the worst. The stand-up has to be the highlight, though, because you get to hear Amy Schumer sound off about Plan B and porn endings, topics within the repertoire of any comedian worth her salt.
If all that seems a little much, I think it’s partly because it’s still so taboo. Shows like Broad City and Inside Amy Schumer are pioneers because they’re bringing everything into the open, warts and all. Comedy is often underrated as an agent of social change because it’s, well, silly. But overlooking its icebreaking powers is a major mistake. Validating every desire and foible on screen is a significant step toward breaking barriers in real life, which is part of what makes these shows so liberating to watch. Getting a laugh doesn’t hurt, either.
