By Debora Roles
Take every amusing cult ‘80s film from your youth and roll them into one, then insert the diverse casting and views that all those films were severely missing, sprinkle on some amazing ‘80s fashion and music, serve with some courageous subject matter (storylines covering miscarriage and abortion, misogyny, anxiety even Infidelity and racism) and you finish up with a GLOW!
GLOW is a comedy–drama series set in the ‘80s inspired by a real-life wrestling promotion. Ironically, GLOW stands for “Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling”. It consists of 3 seasons, with around 10 episodes each which run for about thirty to thirty-five minutes.
Even though I am part of the now ‘GenZ’ generation, I can hands down say I enjoyed the series very much.
We thank the casting directors for bringing the women of GLOW: “Ruth” (Alison Brie), “Debbie” (Betty Gilpin) and let us not forget, “Cherry Bang” (Sydelle Noelle), to our screens.
I was compelled by every single character and caught myself loving somebody new in each episode. It was as if I was watching real people, not actors. For actors to have this effect on viewers is pure talent and great writing. Alison Brie’s character stands out to me the most. She shines throughout the series and you can see why she has so many nominations. If the first season of Glow was about the ways that narratives about women and people of color are often put into a stereotype for viewership which is presumed to be mostly white and mostly male.
The second season is more about how women learn to navigate power structures built by men. The season does a riff on #MeToo, where Ruth confronts an unethical network head who promises her development if she sleeps with him. It tells deep personal stories about all of the characters in the show who are working within the rules built for them by men. Wrestling has been established both in real life and also on the show as a male-dominated sport.
In the series, women fight against the challenge of entering a space where the narratives are largely controlled by men.
GLOW empowers women in plenty of ways. Starting from the strong female characters you grow to admire to challenging stereotypes against women. The series addresses stereotypes and challenges biased notions about what women can do and what they can’t do. Such as: ‘women belong in the kitchen’ and ‘women can’t fight’.
What is even more empowering is that each character undergoes a journey of self-discovery. Through the seasons they learn more about themselves, their strengths, and their potential.
It also touches on body image issues as characters adapt to societal expectations of beauty/physical requirements in professional wrestling. It has always been an issue but it is interesting to see how beauty standards were still in place regardless of time.
We can’t forget to praise the male actors who made GLOW. “Bash” (Chris Lowell) acts as the intriguing patron of the whole GLOW project. Though he isn’t presented until episode three (‘The Wrath of Kuntar,’) he is the only one who, at first, has a clear idea of what the programme should be. His presence is felt as the unseen force pushing an unwilling director and an inexperienced cast to take this project on. In this series, the phrase “no small parts” perfectly describes Bashir Salahuddin.
He radiates an inviting glow that instantly makes everyone in his vicinity feel secure and at ease. In addition, you truly feel invested in and supportive of the advances he makes in the second half of the season, even though he is given little lines and, some may argue, a generic character in the few appearances he makes.
The neon lights and vibrant lycra make for simple, enjoyable viewing combined with outstanding storytelling, and the editing and tempo have an intriguing disorientation that keeps the audience on their toes. Like this period in women’s wrestling, it passes far too soon and is both amazing and unique. We can hope for more with Netflix’s “GLOW,” at least.
If you haven’t watched the series yet, give it a go and sit tight you’re in for a ride.
