Starz Version of Blindspotting Shifts Focus of Hit Film | TV/Streaming

This show desperately wants to elicit serious conversations. These explorations, however, always feel half-finished. Part of the underdevelopment stems from the odd framing: how does one explore the effects of prison on a Black mom and son when the incarcerated father is white? Centering Ashley as the chief viewpoint greatly helps. Nevertheless, I was struck by how often black people are metaphorically used to fill the disjointedness of the topic. During Ashley’s first visitation with Miles, for instance, he’s the only white person there. And when she departs, she sees all the black inmates holding their hands on the glass. Their longing acts as an extension of Miles’ aching, as a heightened awareness of the hurt incarceration extracts. Later, two black dancers interpretatively glide through Rainey’s home as Ashley looks on. Both are meant to represent Collin and Miles, but they give the vibe of patchwork players used to paper over a gaping thematic hole. 

The show’s firmer ground surrounds Earl. A distressing, understated character, as part of his one-year parole sentence, he wears an electronic ankle tag. Its radius doesn’t allow him to venture further than the church corner. For fear of returning to prison, the ankle tag’s low-powered battery forces him to connect to unbelievably long extension cords so he might have some range of motion. Unfailingly kind and philosophical, albeit hilariously weird, Earl is a show highlight. I just wish there were more. 

In other episodes, the characters work through conversations about gentrification, banking, stereotypes, child discipline, and definitions of blackness, the latter of which stops just short of offering any insight. Rather each character speaks their truth about colorism and upbringing, but their ensuing debate is frustratingly one-note.      

Instead, the heartbeat of “Blindspotting” is single motherhood, and the manifestations of certain insecurities. Miles frequently materializes to Ashley as her inner-monologue: he expresses the insults she wishes she could sling, the support needed in his absence, and an ever-guiding conscience. Ashley especially grapples with how to tell Sean that his father is in prison. A tangible heart exists in this series, especially in Jasmine Cephas Jones’ spirited performance as Ashley.