They say beauty lies in the eye of the beholder. We, as people of the first world, have an incredibly narcissistic obsession with the concept of beauty. From L.A. to Paris to Germany young men and women faun over beauty and fashion magazines. Our particular American media also seems to think white men and women are the most beautiful based on the overt evidence of the bulk of our films and shows being led by white, beautiful men and women. Typically these characters are also heterosexual. This is the standard. Variations of the standard exist, but often in niche and cable networks, or if they are present on standard networks they quickly fall into offensive, one-dimensional stereotypes. So when ABC announced and premiered a show like Ugly Betty they were set for an uphill climb. Ugly Betty, a one-hour television program from ABC, is about Betty Suarez, a frumpy, latino, post-graduate girl from queens, who gets offered a job as the personal assistant of the editor-in-chief of major, but fictional, fashion magazine Mode. The scenario is classic fish-out-of-water set up. Betty, by most standard, is fairly unattractive, not to mention a tacky dresser, in a shallow, body obsessive world of fashion. From the get-go prospects for our leading lady are grim. I mean this both narratively and financially. Ugly Betty is the kind of show that can't exist. As a show it constantly fights to break down and comment on the racial, sexual, social, and economic barriers of our current American media landscape, which is not a good way to remain on air.
The style of Ugly Betty stands out instantly. As a show it takes on this quirky, colorful, almost surreal version of reality. Based on a Colombian telenovella this approach is understandable when one looks at the colorful over-the-top stylings of such programs. It does more than just harken to its source material though, it opens the world and writing to explore characters and topics in a way that a more straightforward approach would not allow. Controversial territory is more easily explored when the context of its exploration is doused in bright colors and wide eyes, but carried with a full heart that can never be questioned. When we meet characters like Marc, a flamboyant, gay personal assistant to the creative director, Wilhelmina Slater, he is an insanely over-the-top personality that in any other context might come off offensive, but when surrounded by a world of people acting the same he fits right in and feels real.
Ugly Betty's strength comes in how it treats its characters. Like Marc almost everyone exists in this heightened world. In fact what works so well is the fact that the show seems to purposefully set up stereotypes only to knock them down. Betty is the one grounded person in this world and seems to spend the following episodes grabbing those around her and pulling them into reality, showing them their own worth beyond their shallow facades. We see this in her rather odd friendship with Marc and Amanda, the two most narcissistic of Mode's employees, but over time Betty breaks down their walls and we see the pain and hurt and love and warmth in them. The show finds an almost beautiful obsession in humanizing even its villains, which seems to be the theme, that everyone is real and worthwhile even those who seem to be the most vile. It triumphs in starting each character as a shallow stereotype floating high in the sky like a balloon and by series end each of them being pulled down to earth to form a real, relatable, beautiful person. Each character seems set to defy the expectations presented against them and each seems to represent a certain kind of person we see everyday and box in with our own shallow definitions. There is the pretty bitch, the boy born with a silver spoon, the sassy gay, the power-hungry manipulative not-quite-top dog, and even Betty as the ugly duckling. We start the series with one feeling about each and end with a whole new reality.
These transformations and breakthroughs are already very brave, but one cannot discuss the show without exalting its sensitivity in its portrayal of Justin Suarez, Betty's gay nephew. At the outset of the show Justin is in the early phase of middle school, and at this early age, obsessed with fashion, unconcerned with sports, and lacking in the same urban attitude as his mother (Betty's sister Hilda), something is different about Justin from his fellow Queens inhabitants. As the show continues to unfold Justin's sexual struggle becomes a rather endearing one that never panders to melodrama, but instead remains one of the shows most grounded storylines. What kind of shocks me is that by the end of the fourth season Justin has his first kiss with a girl and then a boy followed by his first boyfriend, and yet there was no media hype about it, no one seemed to care about how beautifully and delicately this show examined the struggle of one boys journey to sexual realization. When Justin comes out to his family it isn't in some bloated overly dramatic sobfest, but in a rather sweet moment that caught me off guard with its sweetness. In a show many small character triumphs, this one remains its most touching and groundbreaking.
As for Betty her arc is one of victory, self-discovery, independence, and happiness. Interestingly enough, though, the show ends on a relatively controversial note in Betty's character. As stated above, this series was a celebration of all things unique about us as people including internal beauty as opposed to more superficial perspectives on beauty. As the season 4 of the series began we see Betty making a physical transformation, she plucks her eyebrows, changes her hair and even takes on a more conventionally fashionable approach to clothes. By series end she is downright beautiful in every way. Some might consider her physical change a betrayal of the shows theme, but I would argue against that. While those around her seem to obsess over beauty as a form of approval by those around, and as a mask to hide the inner ugly, Betty's outward beauty seems to grow from within. She even explains in an episode that change is part of growing up, and indeed thats what happens. She doesn't become a woman hinged on her appearance, she doesn't betray all that was good in her, she just grows up, dons more professionally appropriate clothing, and lets her inner beauty live on the outside too. I don't think thats wrong or against her nature, just a natural evolution of character.
When the curtain finally closes on Betty Suarez, her family, and her coworkers and friends at Mode, the only tears shed are those of joy and renewal. In continued defiance of contemporary norms in the media this gem of a show has one of the few legitimately happy endings in recent years. Even Wilhelmina, the show's "bad guy," gets her happy ending. What one learns from this show is that happiness, true happiness, can only be found when we lose our barriers, when we stop lying to the world about who we are what we want, when are vulnerable and true to ourselves and take chances. From this unwisely cancelled show was born a seed in me to find happiness, and stop listening to the lies of others to remain true to myself. Ugly Betty, for lack of a better phrase, has changed me and I believe it can change you. Give it a shot, you might be surprised.
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