Dramatizing the gulag state

EXISTING FANS have no doubt already binge-watched the entire second season of Orange Is the New Black (OITNB), released on June 6--and rightfully so. For those who have yet to jump on the bandwagon, the following review will hopefully convince you why you should (while avoiding major plot spoilers).

America is by far the world's premiere gulag state, with only 5 percent of the world's population and fully one-quarter of the world's prisoners. For the poor and people of color in particular, prison is a constant presence and threat, yet the realities of life behind bars are openly discussed only rarely, and barely at all in popular culture. When they have been in shows like HBO's Oz, it's mainly been through the lens of male characters.

OINTB focuses on one of the fastest-growing demographics in our sprawling prison empire: women. The protagonist of the show, however, seems an unlikely representative. Piper Chapman is a privileged white woman whose involvement with a former lesbian lover, an international drug smuggler, lands her in prison years after the fact.

Early critics lamented the fact that it took such an unusual vantage point to entice popular audiences (or perhaps more accurately, network executives) to embrace a story about women in prison, most of whom are most decidedly nothing like Piper Chapman (though the character and show are based on the memoir of a real person, Piper Kerman).

But arguably, OINTB exploits this juxtaposition and uses it to actively challenge viewers' preconceived notions. In fact, with each episode--and especially by season two--the story becomes less and less about Piper and more about exploring all of the inmates' complex humanity, as well as the institution of prison itself that defines their world. As the AV Club's Todd VanDerWerff wrote:

Put simply, this is one of the most empathetic shows in the history of television, and in the second season, its ambition and audacity in storytelling grew to match its already present but quietly revolutionary insistence on treating every character in its universe like a human being, with oceans of stories to tell...[A]nd the implications of these stories are clear: Everybody's trapped by the inhumane prison-industrial complex. Everyone is a cog in the machine, and those hoping to change the system from within are doomed to become elements propping it up.

WHILE THE show never loses sight of Piper's storyline (and at times, one wishes it would more often, especially when it comes to her insufferable boyfriend), we are gradually introduced to an expanding cast of characters.

Their flashbacks illustrate the many complicated reasons a person might end up in prison--which is usually a product not just of bad choices, but of limited options, often shaped by the realities of race and poverty. Many were ensnared in crime due to family members or partners. Some struggle with mental illness and addiction. As in real life, the majority are there for nonviolent offenses such as drug or property crimes.

At the same time, there are no innocent victims. The prisoners remain agents in their own destiny, however circumscribed. Characters who initially appear sympathetic are tarnished. Those who at first seem to confirm viewers' assumptions and stereotypes instead undermine them.

"We live in an era stocked with grim adult dramas whose themes boil down, in the end, to abstractions about good and evil, darkness and light," notes The New Yorker's Emily Nussbaum. "For all its daffy, dirty ways, 'Orange Is the New Black' is more strongly rooted in the real world. Like 'The Wire,' it intends to illuminate injustice by using stories so bright that you can't ignore them."

And the stories are great--tragic, hilarious and relatable, even when the circumstances may be foreign.

Perhaps one of the most groundbreaking aspects of the show is the sympathetic and multidimensional portrayal of a transgender character. Laverne Cox, who plays Sophia on the show, has become a widely known and compelling spokeswoman for trans rights-- even landing a cover story in Time magazine, a welcome development in a society in which trans people are routinely and openly discriminated against, harassed and assaulted.

Commentary on gender and sexuality runs throughout the show, from inmates dealing with sexist treatment and abuse at the hands of partners and prison employees, to the unique challenges faced by those who are pregnant or separated from their children, to discovering aspects of their sexuality in an all-female environment. A particularly funny scene in season two involves a group of inmates learning, to their astonishment, a new fact about their own anatomy--a sad but hilariously on-point commentary on the lack of adequate sex education in this country.

The role of racial divisions is also addressed in interesting ways. While women of color are imprisoned at vastly disproportionate rates, and the image of a prisoner perpetuated by the media is a Black or Brown one, it is still the case that the majority of prisoners are white.

From Piper's first entrance in the cafeteria, it appears a form of de facto segregation exists, as prisoners stick with their own groups as a form of community and security-- and in some cases, outright bigotry. At times, racial antagonisms are intentionally exploited by prison staff or used in power plays between leaders of rival factions. On the other hand, the shared experience of shitty conditions and endless time to spend getting to know each other begin to break down these seemingly rigid boundaries.

Even as the community of inmates forms the central dramatic backbone of the show, an interesting development in season two is the increasing focus on the role of prison employees.

Though they are keystones in the prison we learn to hate, prison counselors, guards, staff and assistant wardens are also portrayed not as caricatures, but as flawed human beings placed in the position of enforcing a fundamentally fucked-up system. While some pathologically take to the task with glee, or opportunistically exploit it for personal gain, others are conflicted and even broken by their roles that structurally thwart or deny acts of basic compassion.

ULTIMATELY, OITNB is only entertainment, and can't on its own transform the entrenched social realities that created this miserable state of affairs. That said, activists are taking advantage of the visibility the show has given to prison conditions to advocate for change.

In fact, the Riverhead Jail in Suffolk County, where OITNB is filmed, had already been a target of a campaign by the New York Civil Liberties Union (NYCLU) prior to the show, as a result of complaints by inmates of inhumane conditions. Although the disgusting consequences of a dilapidated plumbing system is a featured storyline in the show this season, the reality is even worse.

According to NYCLU, these are just some of the reported problems:

-- A feces flood lasted 30 hours. Former prisoner Jason Porter described crowding onto a small table with his fellow prisoners for 30 hours while rivers of human waste six inches deep flooded the jail floor after toilets exploded, spraying human feces and urine as high as the ceiling.

Pipes leak asbestos and air reeks of feces urine and mold.

Brown drinking water causes stomachaches, cramps, nausea, vomiting and diarrhea.

It's worth noting, too, that unlike in the show, which is set in a prison, Riverhead is a jail--meaning inmates there are not yet convicted of any crime, and are largely forced to stay there due to lack of economic means to afford bail or adequate attorneys.

These horrendous conditions (by no means unique to Riverhead) have been going on for years. The NYCLU filed its first suit against Riverhead on behalf of 100 inmates in 2012. It hopes, however, that OITNB will give their cause added publicity (take action here). The slogan of the campaign--"Humanity is the New Black"--is an excellent one for all those of us who are inspired to speak out against the brutality of America's prison system.

Former inmates from FCI Danbury, the prison where the real Piper Kerman spent most of her time, have been organizing as well. On June 21, more than 300 formerly incarcerated women and supporters gathered on the National Mall for the Free Her rally.

"This is the first rally (that I know of) organized by formerly incarcerated women to demand freedom for other women in prison," said former political prisoner Susan Rosenberg, who spent 16 years in federal prisons including Danbury before being pardoned. "This is about building a movement to end the mass incarceration of women."

Because as entertaining as OITNB can be to watch, prison is not fun. As one former inmate reviewing the show put it, "It's prison, dude. There's nothing to cheer about."