Blindspotting

While this show has brilliant moments and sequences, it struggles with blending the risky creative choices that made the original movie a standout with a more traditional television format. Blindspotting ends up with a disjointed narrative that jarringly jumps from scene to scene. While one moment can be emotionally moving and poetic, the next will be too self-aware, using sitcom-style dialogue perhaps to remind the audience that this is not like any show they've seen before. The premise for blending these styles sounds promising, but Blindspotting often doesn't feel like two styles blended together; instead it's like three or four totally different shows forcibly asserting that they are one.

Blindspotting does, however, have compelling individual storylines and effective relationship building. The performances of Jasmine Cephas Jones and Helen Hunt are fantastic; every scene between Ashley and Rainey is at once hilarious, emotionally genuine, and relatable. Another highlight is the relationship between Ashley's childhood friend Janelle and Earl, a tenant living with Janelle and her mother. The two are scene-stealers by themselves, especially when acting as babysitters to Ashley's son Sean, but the episode where we get a major storyline about Janelle and Earl's growing friendship spotlights how well anthology-like ensemble storytelling can work. Unfortunately, it isn't too long before an out-of-place dance sequence shifts the attention to the backstory of the two main characters in the film version of Blindspotting -- Miles and Collin -- even though Collin doesn't appear in the television version at all. Overall, while the representation of real, important stories creates a unique narrative world, it's possible that viewers who are attached to the cohesiveness and continuity that television traditionally provides may not stick around long enough to understand it.