Orange Is The New Black
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Netflix's best original show is back, and for a programme about women in stasis, it doesn't half know how to throw everything up in the air. (Spoilers follow.)
Last week I went to a screening of Orange is the New Black season two's first episode. It was predictably great, as I'll outline in a review soon once I've deciphered the notes I made on a torn-up bit of an Ibuprofen packet having forgotten to bring a notepad. #journalism
But the real joy of it was the Q&A featuring Jason Biggs.
In years to come, we will remember 2013 as the year everything changed. Danny Dyer is now in Eastenders, and across the land all else has ceased to matter. But look upon the works of this medium, now so wholly transformed, and you will see more than this. And you might think it handy that some berk put it all in a list and bid you read it.
Women's prison fiction has a proud tradition of providing jollies for the adolescent male. But Orange is the New Black, Netflix's latest original series, missteps horrifically in its positive depiction of women as rounded characters whose concerns extend further than lezzing each other off in the shower.