Dickinson
“Dickinson challenges our straight-washing of history and allows for nuanced takes on love and attraction.”
Title: Dickinson
Episodes Reviewed: Season 1
Creator: Alena Smith 👩🏼🇺🇸
Writers: Alena Smith 👩🏼🇺🇸 (10 eps), Rachel Axler 👩🏼🇺🇸 (2 eps), Ali Waller 👩🏼🇺🇸 (2 eps), Hayes Davenport 👨🏼🇺🇸 (1 ep), Ken Greller 👨🏼🇺🇸🌈 (1 ep), Darlene Hunt 👩🏼🇺🇸 (1 ep), and Robbie Macdonald 👨🏼🇺🇸 (1 ep)
Reviewed by Mimi 👩🏻🇺🇸
—MINOR SPOILERS—
Technical: 4/5
For the most part, the concept of adolescence did not exist prior to the 20th century. In the 1800s, the transition out of childhood meant immediately assuming adult responsibilities. The iconic image of Emily Dickinson—unsmiling, her hair pulled back with a severe center part—has only cemented her reputation as an old spinster, when in fact she was no older than 16 or 17 years old at the time the portrait was taken.
Premiering in 2019, Apple TV+’s Dickinson reimagines the famous American poet as a hot-blooded teenager (played by Hailee Steinfeld) who talks back to her parents, whines about doing chores, and throws a house party with booze and recreational drugs for all of her friends. The period dramedy maintains the 1850 setting and costumes, but peppers dialogue with a mix of old-timey and contemporary colloquialisms (“Let’s get this party commenced!”) and the soundtrack features modern songs by Billie Eilish and Mitski. Although somewhat jarring at first, and other times downright silly, these creative liberties emphasize that we not take things too seriously and further upends previous portrayals of a sad recluse, such as the one seen in Terrence Davies’ humorless biopic A Quiet Passion (2016).
The modernizing quirks not only breathe life into such an otherwise staid historical figure, but also amplify the meaning behind her work. Every episode title is lifted from her poetry and relates to the plot. In 1862, the real Dickinson sought guidance from a prominent literary critic, asking in her letter “if my Verse is alive?” Lines from her poems frequently flash across the screen as the character Emily composes them in fits and spurts of inspiration. Having such clear access to her emotional state allows the audience to fully appreciate her language, infused with both passion and melancholy, and to see her as someone who was very much alive.
Gender: 5/5
Does it pass the Bechdel Test? YES
Much like Greta Gerwig’s adaptation of Little Women (2019), Alena Smith’s Dickinson draws particular attention to the many obstacles that women writers faced. Louisa May Alcott, in the form of Zozia Mamet, even makes a cameo in Episode 8’s “There’s a Certain Slant of Light,” while the very first episode, “Because I Could Not Stop,” centers around Emily’s father (Toby Huss) who chastises his daughter for her desire to publish. In “I Have Never Seen ‘Volcanoes’” (Episode 2), Emily and her best friend Sue (Ella Hunt) cross-dress as men in order to attend a lecture at Amherst College, which like most universities historically did not admit women. Although played for laughs, their adventure further underlines the sexism of the era.
Meanwhile, Emily’s mother (Jane Krawkowski) plays matchmaker in an attempt to marry her daughter off as quickly as possible. Her suitor George (Samuel Farnsworth) exhibits all the traits of a classic Nice Guy. After biding his time as Emily’s friend, he repeatedly professes his “love” for her, though she repeatedly turns down his proposals. Of course, talk of marriage cannot be avoided, especially for young women from a wealthy family like the Dickinsons. But one of the primary relationships that drives the narrative falls outside of heteronormative romance, namely Emily’s intimate friendship with Sue. So rather than reduce the poetess into a caricature of an unlovable eccentric, the show restores agency to Emily, celebrating her fiercely ambitious and independent nature. She’s a rebellious teen, after all!
Race: 3.5/5
While Steinfeld passes as white, her grandfather was actually Filipino and Black. The casting of a mixed race actress potentially allows more viewers to see themselves in the role of a renowned American poet. Recognizing Steinfeld’s multiracial identity infuses moments like Emily’s sexual awakening, scored to Mitski’s “Your Best American Girl,” with additional (if unintended) layers of meaning.
By and large, however, the writing fails to envision the same rich inner life for its nonwhite characters as it does the white women who occupy the center of the story. Betty (Amanda Warren), a Black dressmaker, mainly exists to complement Sue’s arc and her ambiguity toward motherhood. “I Am Afraid to Own a Body” (Episode 5) demonstrates a certain level of self-awareness when the Dickinsons’ Irish immigrant maid appears ignorant of the threat that slave catchers pose to the hired hand Henry (Chinaza Uche), even though he is a free Black man. What’s not entirely clear is how much Emily consciously recognizes her own privilege, an insensitivity that gets exposed when she all but forces Henry to participate in her drama club’s reading of Shakespeare’s Othello. His discomfort at being made to perform for his employer’s children is apparent to those of us watching. But disappointingly, Emily experiences no reckoning. Racial dynamics and the imbalances of power are never again revisited in the season.
An earlier scene sees the Dickinsons debate the topic of slavery. Set in the years leading up to the Civil War, the conversation knowingly mirrors the types of disagreements that likely still arise over the dinner table among white families. But by relegating Black characters to subservient roles throughout the season, the narrative overall fails to interrogate its own whiteness.
LGBTQ: 5/5
Rather than simply teasing the poet’s well-documented love for her brother’s wife, Sue Gilbert, Dickinson embraces the same-sex romance as canon. In the series, Sue is caught in a triangle between her fiancé Austin Dickinson (Adrian Enscoe) and her best friend Emily. But there’s no question as to whom Sue’s heart truly belongs: The pilot captures a heated kiss between the two young women. Other episodes reveal less-than-innocent sleepovers together in Emily’s bed.
At the same time, Dickinson’s Emily explores the more fluid aspect of her character’s sexuality. The introduction of her father’s clerk Ben Newton (Matt Lauria) stirs up unexpected feelings for Emily, although the season finale does offer a queer interpretation of his bachelorhood with the implication that Ben may not be straight. In this way, the series not only challenges our straight-washing of history but also allows for nuanced takes on love and attraction.
Mediaversity Grade: B+ 4.38/5
Dickinson provides a refreshing update on a historical narrative, which we often mistakenly perceive as being stagnant and unchanging. On a meta level, the series reminds us of just how potent the written word can be. It will be interesting to see how Emily’s character continues to grow, along with her fame. Hopefully, Season 2 retains all the youthful fun of the first season.
Like Dickinson? Try these other period dramas with modern twists.
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