Never Have I Ever: The teen show I wish I had growing up
A coming of age, high school-centred sitcom? Sure, we’ve had them and we’ve had some great ones. Sabrina the Teenage Witch, Lizzie McGuire, That’s So Raven, Sister Sister to name a few that filled many of our post-homework evenings. But a coming of age, high school-centred, sex-positive sitcom following the life of a 15-year old Indian American girl? It’s a first, and something I wish I had growing up.
Never Have I Ever is a necessary addition to the coming-of-age canon. Created by Mindy Kaling and Lang Fisher, this Netflix show follows the life of Devi Vishwakumar (played by newcomer Maitreyi Ramakrishnan, who beat out 15,000 girls to get the role) who after suffering a horrific freshman year at school which saw the death of her father Mohan (played by Sendhil Ramamurthy, who you may recognise as Heroes’ Dr. Mohinder Suresh) and temporary paralysis that sees her lose the use of her legs. Going into sophomore year, Devi is ready to take on the world, and of course, hilarity and tragedy ensue in equal measure.
The show charts Devi’s mission to get herself and her two closest friends Fabiola (Lee Rodriguez) and Eleanor (Ramona Young) boyfriends. She chooses one Paxton Hall-Yoshida (Darren Barnet), which is about the jockiest names in the history of jocks who’ll be the basic attractive benchmark for her sexual desires. Between her rivalry with Ben Gross (Jaren Lewison) her fraught relationship with her mother Nalini (played exquisitely by Poorna Jagannathan), a growing sisterhood with her cousin Kamala (Richa Moorjani) and friction with her therapist played by the titan Neicy Nash there’s a lot going on in her life.
Maitreyi Ramakrishnan, who beat out 15,000 girls to get the role of Devi
This show excels best when it’s diving into Devi’s relationship with her family who are all adjusting to life without Mohan. For Devi’s mum Nalini, it’s learning to balance being a working woman with being a single parent and raising Devi with a particular set of ideals that sometimes jarr with American standards; something that Devi is often resistant to. For Kamala, the pressure to get married is on and her relationship with Steve is less than ideal. As these three women attempt to navigate the intricacies of life both together and independently, it’s the scene in the final episode as they scatter Mohan’s ashes into the sea to the soundtrack of U2’s Beautiful Day that really grounds the story in the love and unity that these women share.
I loved being able to identify with the closeness of Devi’s family, given my own dynamics. It’s not unusual for extended South Asian families to live together or close enough in proximity that we’re always together. There’s also a scene where the three women go to Devi’s school after hours to celebrate Ganesh Puja, something that exists in my household too. It made me feel so warm to see Indian women in sarees, lehengas and kameez’s doing exactly the kind of thing I did growing up.
Poorna Jagannathan and Richa Moorjani fill the family circle for Devi
A show is not a great show without well-rounded supporting characters. Sticking with the role of mothers, in the case of Fabiola who’s coming to terms with her sexuality and is anxious about telling her mother, it’s refreshing to see an LGBTQ+ storyline that is met by everyone with love and acceptance. For Eleanor we watch her navigate her relationship with her absent mother that sees her face heartbreak and rejection. Another key player is Ben Gross, Devi’s childhood rival who takes centre-stage in the Andy Samberg-narrated episode 6 where we delve into his family life and overriding sense of loneliness, that ultimately sees him connect with Devi. (For anyone else who’s seen the show, yes I totally ship Devi and Ben. Paxton Hall-Yoshida has no personality. I can’t remember one thing of real substance he said - that’s not a dig at you, Darren Barnet).
Of course the show is not without its weaknesses. In one scene, Devi likens being grounded to being an indentured servant, and I get that 15-year olds say stupid things all the time - heck i’m not sure that I knew what an indentured servant was at that age - but I mean, read the room. Especially so when, like me, many people of Indian diaspora can trace their family history back to their ancestors who were indentured servants or displaced due to the British Empire. Perhaps this is Mindy Kaling’s way of portraying Devi’s reluctance to connect with her heritage in the way that many teenagers of diaspora do, but it still didn’t work for me.
Of course there’s also that scene during the Ganesh Puja when we’re confronted with a Hindu woman that has been shunned for marrying a Muslim man. A common issue in many Hindu households of course, but I would have liked to see someone stand up for her, be that Devi, Nalini or someone in the background. For what could have been a potentially poignant and necessary conversation to happen on screen - it was a wasted opportunity.
The show charts Devi’s mission to get herself and her two closest friends Fabiola (Lee Rodriguez) and Eleanor (Ramona Young) boyfriends.
All in all, Never Have I Ever feels like a watershed moment for South Asian representation on screen and particularly in this genre of television. Whether that’s through the genius casting of two attractive Indian men (in the case of Mohan and Prashant) to combat the stereotype that Indian men are all somehow just variations of Raj from The Big Bang Theory, the focus on Devi’s relationship with her mother, tackling of grief through therapy and having an Indian lead at all, let alone one so openly declaring she wants to have sex, this show has entered a space so often reserved for the white teenager.
I really do hope for a season two, as this show has so much promise. With that I hope Mindy Kaling and Lang Fisher take on some of the valid criticisms of season one and proceed with telling Devi’s story with the same heart and hilarity, though perhaps this time allowing for nuance.
