If you haven’t had the opportunity to watch Netflix’s latest coming-of-age dramedy, Never Have I Ever is worth the five-hour binge, though with a few narrative hiccups. Devi, a first-generation South Asian American teenager, tragically loses her father to a fatal heart attack a few months before the start of the show. Subsequently, her legs stop working (the reason believed to be psychosomatic), confining her to a wheelchair until one day she sees her crush across a grocery store parking lot. In a sudden spurt of desire to see him, she regains function of her legs again.
The show’s writing is a little off-kilter, suspending a mostly realistic setting with spurts of ghostly visits from Devi’s father and a narrator who frequently breaks the fourth wall. But Devi is fascinating from the start. She doesn’t care to be some down-trodden victim of fate and circumstance; instead she’s belligerent, temperamental, selfish beyond reason, and self-obsessed to the detriment of her most important relationships. However, for each one of these flaws, she faces severe consequences, and begins to grow into a kinder, more understanding person whilst still navigating the confusing feelings of adolescence.
The most popular boy in school, Paxton, and Devi’s academic rival, Ben, serve as her love interests throughout the 10-episode first season. Ben is a strange contender for the writers to lean on, considering that his introduction in the pilot includes the fact that he uses a “mildly racist” term for Devi and her two best friends, all of whom are teens of colour. The show attempts to balance this by having Devi attack Ben’s Jewish roots with anti-Semitic remarks, making the idea of this relationship sailing even less tolerable.
Sure, we can be sympathetic to someone saying horrible, ignorant things that need correcting in their youth, but the show fails to demonstrate that these two have matured from their earlier wrongdoings. They just develop the hots for each other instead. The message “Only discriminate against someone if you develop an attraction to them” might not be what the showrunners are aiming for, but it’s how this plays out when their prejudices are skirted around and abandoned altogether. Paxton isn’t much of a treasure either, having a host of problems being the popular guy “settling” for a dorky loudmouth like Devi and brushing her off whenever he can get away with it.
While my recommendation is that all three of these teenagers seek healthier coping mechanisms before plunging into sex and dating, Devi at least has a leg-up on the boys with a therapist who’s used to her antics.
The most surprising disappointment in the show comes out in the writing of one of Devi’s best friends, Fabiola. Gay representation is rife in this new comedy series, and while I love to see it, it’s the driest, least interesting component of the show. A nervous, gay teen coming to terms with their sexuality, rejecting their crush outright with an “I’m not like you” scream of shame, and terrified that their family — who ultimately turns out to be fully supportive — will reject them, brought nothing original to the screen. While Fabiola’s mother is tender and the sort of mom we all want behind us as we navigate an identity crisis, it’s redundant television. Gay characters deserve riveting plot roles, even if it means that their sexuality isn’t at the centre of it.
What the show lacks in satisfying romance and LGBTQ+ storylines, it makes up for in its demonstration of family: a strong-willed daughter who struggles to relate to her strong-willed mother, a foreign cousin grappling with an impending arranged marriage, and a dead father who seems to crop up whenever Devi is at her lowest point. While Devi’s story begins with a typical quest for popularity and a hot boyfriend, the creators of Never Have I Ever offer a fresh take on this familiar journey.
