Kirsty Capes reviews Orange Is the New Black season 4…
Where to even begin with season 4 of Orange Is the New Black?
The credits rolled on that final episode, LP’s uplifting track Muddy Waters permeating the visual of Samira Wiley’s character Poussey Washington looking over the Hudson River, turning to the camera and breaking the fourth wall with a knowing smile. Orange Is the New Black has been the most uplifting, heart wrenching, thought-provoking, politically challenging show on or off television in at least the past five years. Season 4 has cemented it as a contemporary classic and a trailblazer in what the future of made-for-online shows might look like, ones which have the means and the power to question the status quo, to challenge the pre-existing perceptions of the viewer, and to pave new frontiers in writing and contextual commentary on our current socio-political climate.
You may think I’m being hyperbolic. I’m not. Season 4 was sublime and when it was over I ugly-cried for a very, very long time. I laughed in equal measure and with equal emotion. It took me a few days to reflect upon what I had watched and to gather my thoughts in a cohesive fashion before I was able to sit down and attempt a review that is going to do justice to this season, its writers, its crew, its directors, and its actors.
As always, at the heart of season 4 were the characters which are the driving force behind OITNB. I’ve always thought that the choice to move away from Piper Chapman (Taylor Schilling) as the central protagonist of the story was a good move for a show whose foundations are built on diversity and intersectionality, and this season sought to distance itself even further from its origins as the story of Piper Chapman’s time in prison. Piper still features heavily in the larger arc of OITNB, and this season she undergoes a particular transformation after setting up her girlfriend Stella (Ruby Rose) to go to maximum security in the finale of season 3. Piper develops something of an ego, one even larger and more dangerous than the one she already had, and is swiftly brought back to Earth by Maria Ruiz (Jessica Pimentel) after forming ties with a surge of new inmates who are also racist, white power supporters. While Piper’s story, after spending the first half of the season as an unbearably snotty egotist, is ultimately one of redemption, Ruiz herself undergoes a similar transformation after realising that the Latina community in Litchfield is now the dominant one. As Ruiz begins to ascertain her authority over the other groups, her new power comes with consequences, too.
Ruiz is one of many characters whose backgrounds we gain insight into throughout this season, as Jenji Kohan continues the tradition of providing viewers with characters’ back stories, which often contextualises their behaviour within the walls of Litchfield, too. This season we are treated to flashbacks from Ruiz (who relinquishes her overbearing Dominican upbringing to with her boyfriend), Soso, Healy (and his turbulent relationship with his mentally ill mother), Maritza Ramos (who got caught up in a supercar stealing operation), Blanca (who spent her days of freedom as a live-in carer for an elderly white woman), Crazy Eyes (who, heartbreakingly contributed to the accidental death of a boy), Correctional Officer Bayley (who was actually kind of an asshole in his youth) and, in the finale, Poussey (who spent a night exploring New York City, getting bicycle lifts for buddhist monks and partying with drag queens).
This season also focuses on heightening racial tensions within the prison as overcrowding from new inmates begins to take its toll. Love blossoms between Poussey and Soso, while Suzanne experiences her first throes of lust/love with Kukudio, culminating in tragedy after both women feel let down by the other. Healy, spurned by his experience with his mother, commits himself to helping Lolly overcome her demons, but ultimately fails and takes the consequences to heart.
OITNB is no stranger to taking risks, too, and this season was full of them. It takes deep care in depicting the consequences of conflict and PTSD as Caputo brings in militiary veterans as new Correctional Officers into Litchfield. Meanwhile, Pennsatucky’s (Taryn Manning) rapist, Correctional Officer Coates (played brilliantly by James McMenamin) goes from being a straight-up bad guy to a more morally ambiguous character. When Pennsatucky calls him a rapist he realises for the first time the true nature of his actions, and develops a tiny inkling of what might possibly be going through Pennsatucky’s head, how she might be feeling. What might be shocking for some viewers is that Coates isn’t portrayed by writers as a one hundred per cent, all-round evil person. There are actually plenty of aspects of his character which are, dare I say it, actually likeable at times. As he begins to understand the enormity of what he has done, he develops something of a conscience, he stands up for newcomer Ouija (Rosal Colon) when another C.O., Humps, refuses to let her use the bathroom.
It’s difficult to stare in the face but it’s probably a much more accurate depiction of the horror of rape in reality, compared to what we are used to seeing in TV and film. Rapists aren’t nameless, faceless thugs. Rapists are often boyfriends, friends and relatives who hold a degree of trust with the victim. They’re also not one-dimensional characters. McMenamin and the writers behind the character give nuance to Coates, who in another show might have just been considered a bad guy and nothing else. McMenamin deserves credit for successfully and unflinchingly portraying such a complex, difficult and uncomfortable character. Similarly, Caputo is forced to make tough choices and reaches hard to make the best decisions for the inmates, but time and again falters under the pressure of the MCC and his new girlfriend Linda.
Elsewhere, Poussey meets the most heartbreaking and devastating climax to her story, causing outcry from some quarters who feel that she, as a black LGBT character, deserved better, and was used as a scapegoat to make commentary about wider social issues. Deliberate parallels were drawn between the death of Poussey and the #BlackLivesMatter movement. Poussey’s last words were “I can’t breathe”, and after Caputo’s press conference Taystee is infuriated that he “didn’t even say her name”. In a sociopolitical context, it’s notable that narratives commenting on the treatment of the black community in America are cropping up time and again in contemporary pop culture, and rightfully so (in music, one only needs to look at this year’s ‘Lemonade’ from Beyoncé and last year’s ‘To Pimp a Butterfly’ from Kendrick Lamar as a starting point). What is also notable is that the final episode of the season, of Poussey’s death, was written by Lauren Morelli, a white woman and Samira Wiley’s girlfriend (read into that what you will). Whatever you think about the ending of Poussey’s story, there’s no denying that those scenes were the most difficult to watch of the whole season, alongside Pennsatucky’s scene with Boo (Lea DeLaria) where she talks about forgiving her rapist, and asks Boo to do the same for her own sake.
Underneath the injustice of it all, the stomach-churning outrage it induces in its portrayal of oppression, season 4 is a story of redemption for some and unravelling for others. What’s certain for all of us is that OITNB is breaking barriers in storytelling and challenging us all to change our perception of women, of race, of government and more. I have a theory that Poussey’s flashback in the final episode of the season was her journey to heaven, her crossing or the River Styx (Hudson River in this case), as Boo mentions earlier in the same episode. Poussey undergoes enlightenment and spiritual cleansing in her final moments, and OITNB continues to enlighten and cleanse us all.
Kirsty Capes – Follow me on Twitter
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