Netflix’s Wednesday takes the OG Goth girl to Hogwarts.
Supernatural sleuthing fans who aren’t big on The Addams Family IP could be missing out.
The Short Take:
Netflix’s Wednesday is more than just the inspiration for a viral Tik Tok dance. It’s the supernatural high school murder mystery I didn’t know I needed. Jenna Ortega is an intoxicating revelation as Wednesday Addams. Some plot issues with the final episodes, but I barely noticed because of all the fun I was having. Harry Potter fans especially should check this out.
Image Credit: New York Times
[The first half of this review will be SPOILER-FREE. The second half will be SPOILED rotten like a corpse (as Wednesday would prefer).]
The Long Take:
Wednesday Addams has taken over Tik Tok.
Or, more specifically, a dance Wednesday Addams does in the fourth episode of Netflix’s new series, Wednesday, has become a viral dance trend in which all manner of folk imitate the dance featured in the series, but to a different song. In the show, Wednesday hits the floor of a high school dance to “Goo Go Muck” by The Cramps, an American rock band credited with creating “psychobilly” music, a punk rock version of rockabilly. Tik Tok-ers, however, decided that Wednesday’s moves would jive better with Lady Gaga’s “Bloody Mary,” a single from her Grammy-nominated album from 2011, Born This Way. This version of the dance became so popular that Lady Gaga herself joined in. Meanwhile, actress Jenna Ortega, who plays the series’ titular character, has garnered a lot of attention and praise for choreographing the dance herself.
The story of the “Wednesday Dance” is a fascinating reflection of how layered and iterative pop culture is today. In an interview with Jimmy Fallon, Jenna Ortega rattles off so many other artists who influenced her, but most notably says that she studied “archival footage of Goth kids dancing in clubs in the 80s” to come up with the moves. She also says that she specifically paid homage to a dance the first actress to play Wednesday Addams, Lisa Loring, did on the TV series in the 60s. This dance does not exist without the history behind it.
Fascinatingly, though, the dance creates a semiotic paradox. It relies on pop culture references — I haven’t even mentioned The Adams Family films yet, but they’re a big one, of course. And yet, it doesn’t require viewers or participants to actually possess any awareness of those references to perpetuate itself. Yes, many of the Tik Tok-ers transform into Wednesday, with bangs, braids, dark make-up, and monochromatic outfits. Many even have the Netflix series playing on a screen behind them as they dance. Other videos I’ve seen, however, seem completely divorced from Wednesday as a character. Some bring in dance styles from other cultures. One I saw featured a father and son dressed as Santa and an elf. Literary critic Henry Louis Gates Jr. might call this “cooperative signifying”: repetition with difference, but with admiration rather than critique. I’m sure I’m not the first person to think of applying semiotics to Tik Tok videos, but the Wednesday phenomenon begs this kind of analysis because even without Tik Tok, the Netflix series is already enacting a kind of intertextuality by rebooting a cartoon first published in The New Yorker in the 1930s, after it had already been adapted multiple times.
Personally, I adore this dance and welcome it into the weird and wonderful world of the Internet, even if the signifier runs away from the signified and many who engage with the Wednesday dance don’t even know who Wednesday Addams is. I do worry, however, that if all someone has heard about Wednesday is that there’s a Tik Tok dance going around, they might not realize what kind of show it really is and whether or not they would want to watch it.
I should point out that the series is Netflix’s third most watched after Stranger Things and Squid Game, clocking over a billion hours streamed, according to Netflix. So clearly I don’t have to worry about the popularity of the show. But I imagine the viewers pressing play because of the Tik Tok dance may not overlap too much with those who, like me, may not spend a lot of time on Tik Tok but would still very much enjoy this show.
I never thought of myself as an Addams Family fan. I couldn’t even tell you if I’ve actually ever seen either of the 90s films. I distinctly remember watching reruns of 1960s sitcom The Munsters as a kid, but did I ever watch its “snappier” rival, developed and airing on another network at the same time? It’s unclear. For this reason, the Tim Burton-produced (and partially directed) Netflix series focusing on the adolescent adventures of the OG goth girl wasn’t initially on my radar. In retrospect, that was clearly a mistake.
What I never would have realized had my doting husband not suggested we watch the new series (marry someone who knows you better than yourself, right?) is that this show is made for me. I love a good mystery — especially a murder mystery. When my youngest was born, I blazed through all three seasons of Twin Peaks (the original and the sequel series) and then all four seasons of Veronica Mars (which also had a final season many years later — how odd) during late-night feedings. I weaseled a chapter on Sherlock Holmes into my dissertation. I also love anything with fantasy or the supernatural. Though I do not agree with many of JK Rowlings views, I’m still very much a Harry Potter fan (Hufflepuff, though the sorting hat would try to put me in Ravenclaw, if you’re wondering). With these types of shows and films, I can turn my critic brain off and just enjoy them, regardless of how well-constructed they are.
Wednesday checks all of these boxes: it’s set in a Hogwarts-esque high school with different houses of supernatural beings — werewolves, vampires, Gorgons, and sirens, to name a few. Its titular character is very similar to Veronica Mars in her raw detecting talent, her stubborn, tunnel vision on solving a case, and subsequent disregard for the rules. Bodies are dropping left and right, and Wednesday seems to be the only one willing and able to get to the bottom of it. I was engrossed and delighted from Episode 1.
The show’s very premise actually parallels what the Tik Tok dance trend does. It is both born from the IP of the Addams Family and yet takes on a life entirely its own because the plot isolates Wednesday from her iconic family for most of the series. After running into trouble at her “normie” high school, Morticia and Gomez decide to send their daughter to Nevermore Academy, the school for “outcasts” where they met and fell in love. Wednesday resists attending the school because she does not wish to live in her mother’s shadow. So the idea of the Addams Family still looms large, but also seems to have little to do with what this new series is all about.
Image Credit: Variety
Wednesday Addams as a character — again, merely based on my passing pop culture knowledge of her — still seems rendered in her purest form, as the writing for her specifically, combined with Jenna Ortega’s insanely skilled execution of her lines, nails this deadpan, morbid, crafty teen with a razor-sharp intellect and a razor-sharp tongue to match. Every line of hers made me crack up. The “I love creepy things that most people are repulsed by” bit never gets old. They’ve written Wednesday to be incredibly secure and confident in who she is. She’s usually the smartest in the room. She’s a skilled, fearless fighter. Watching her is intoxicating, and it’s so easy to root for her because all she wants is the truth.
Ortega’s performance absolutely elevates the series. I would argue that she carries the entire series. Her ability to hardly ever blink let alone smile, as well as the intensity with which she stares make her Wednesday intimidating yet magnetic. In thinking back on why I love her dance so much, I conclude it’s because Ortega has this intensity in her movement. When she tilts her head or cranes her neck, it’s with definitive vigor. When she claws her hands back and forth, it’s with confidence and a total lack of care for what others think. And it’s gloriously cooky. I think the Tik Tok-ers added Lady Gaga’s song into the mix because Wednesday’s philosophy aligns with Lady Gaga’s invocation of “little monsters,” saying that it’s okay to be proud of what makes you different or weird to other people.
[We now enter the dark forest that is SPOILER territory. Continue at your own peril.]
Image Credit: LA Times
Ortega emits a charm and playfulness that cuts through her deadpan exterior. During the infamous dance, she hunches over like she’s got spiders crawling on her neck; she then shakes and thrusts her head back, skyward, as if she’s possessed. But then, just as she uprights herself, she gives this side glance through her tussled bangs. Later on, she taps Tyler on the shoulder and pops up behind him, completely stoic. That alchemical mix of morose and fun, of a disciplined yet primal release, is the magic of this whole scene. We get to see a character who keeps herself at arm’s length from those around her finally let loose and have some fun, in her own way, and on her own terms. I can’t get enough of her.
This is not to say that there aren’t lots of other lovable characters in the series. Thing, who perhaps is the most recognizable character from the Addams Family, is the BEST. With skilled puppetry and strong writing for verbal characters who have conversations with him, Thing comes across as having the most emotion of all the characters on the show. He’s in danger a couple times throughout the season — but most severely when Ms. Thornhill stabs him — and I was horrified at the thought of losing him every time. He also very clearly cares about Wednesday, trying to nudge her towards friendship and connection with others. And I love that he bonds with Enid.
The story overall really seems to be about Wednesday making friends, so I appreciate that she has good ones. From a storytelling perspective, the development of these characters and their relationships to one another worked really well. When Wednesday hugs Enid at the end it feels earned and cathartic. Like she’s finally creaked open her heart, just a tiny bit.
Image Credit: Variety
Enid was also a character that I found endearing. She has that perky, Nermal from Garfield energy, but, again, I think the writing for her, especially when she’s in scenes with Wednesday, moves her beyond that pink puffy glittery teen stereotype and makes her a smart, fully-formed character I care about. Eugene also develops into a character I care about when I wouldn’t have expected that when we first meet him in the bee house. He’s potentially the Neville from Harry Potter on this show, who starts out as a mousey dweeb but becomes a cool hero. I mean, we already see that he can control bees at the end of this season! (Also, how did I not see that coming? Face-palm.)
A final shoutout goes to Gwendoline Christie, who is as glamorous as she is imposing as Principal Weems. I’m sad that she didn’t survive the season, but am excited by the prospect of who might be cast to sit in her fancy leather swivel chair next season. This feels like it could be the Dark Arts teacher schtick from Harry Potter, in which each school year has a different high-profile actor filling the spot.
Image Credit: Entertainment Weekly
My main criticism of this first season is that the plot gets a little too twisty, a little too heel turn-y towards the end. While I did think that the series sufficiently planted clues so that we could figure out ahead of time that Tyler was the Hyde and that Ms. Thornhill was Laurel Gates, and that for the first 2/3 of the season, they did an excellent job of making everyone suspicious such that I kept guessing who might be doing what behind closed doors, the ultimate decision to make Dr. Kinbott innocent and Ms. Thornhill the villain seems a little cheap, simply because she’s played by Christina Ricci, the actress who played Wednesday in the 90s films. Her celebrity status as a former Wednesday made it so that it was a little more obvious that she would be the big bad all along. And I don’t like that a former Wednesday would be a villain. I want all Wednesdays to be heroes after becoming so attached to Jenna Ortega’s version of the character.
Similarly, Tyler’s sudden turn from nice, unassuming townie to super evil and sinister villain when he threatens Wednesday in the police station seems too extreme for me. The series makes a point to tell us that Nathaniel Faulkner spent so much time studying Hydes because he wanted to know if they were conscious of their actions when they transformed into monsters or if they were killing people involuntarily. So it seems like a missed opportunity to not try to explore that with Tyler’s character at all. Also, if we’re going with a Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde literary reference, it makes a lot less sense to have Tyler in “normal” Dr. Jekyll form also be evil and violent like his monstrous Hyde form. The whole point, traditionally, is that they are opposing personalities and one has to try to control the other.
My other complaint is a little stickier, as it involves the subtext of Enid’s werewolf identity. The series seems to appropriate a queer identity narrative for Enid that doesn’t work for me at all. As Charles Holmes and Joanna Robinson argue on the Prestige TV podcast, the idea that Enid’s inability to “wolf out” prompts her parents to want to send her to a “lycanthropy conversion camp” makes no sense logically because, as Charles points out, Enid does actually want to wolf out, she just wants to do it in her own time and in her own way. So the comparison to a gay or lesbian kid telling their parents that they don’t want to go to a conversation camp is just sloppy and confusing.
Through this scene with her parents and a few others, the show compares Enid’s identity to the experience of someone from the LGBTQ+ community, while, at the same time, as Joanna Robinson points out, problematically failing to include any LGBTQ+ relationships at Nevermore Academy. We do learn that Eugene has two moms, but all the teenage romance is very heteronormative. I would add to this that the show — I think without realizing it — sends mixed messages about “accepting who you are.” Enid keeps saying that she is okay with who she is — a werewolf who hasn’t wolfed out — and yet in the end she finally does wolf out, in spectacular fashion. In fact, I cheered when she wolfed out because she was an awesome werewolf who defeated the Hyde and saved Wednesday. But then I remembered how we spent so much time championing the idea that it was okay if Enid was a different kind of werewolf. That it was okay if she never wolfed out. So when she does, that theme gets messy and a little icky.
It’s important for the series creators to hear criticism about representation and try to address it in the future. While I think that, at least in terms of character, plot, and tone, this series is better than Disney+’s Willow has been thus far, I think Wednesday could take some notes from Willow on the representation front. The relationships are just there; they aren’t a fraught subtextual narrative that viewers may or may not pick up on. So if we get more problems like the Enid lycanthropy conversion situation in future seasons, the series as a whole may be in trouble with me. But for now I’m remaining optimistic.
The issues I had with how the mystery unfolded with extreme villain reveals, on the other hand, didn’t hamper my enjoyment of the series overall too much. I’m enamored with Jenna Ortega’s Wednesday Addams, and can’t wait to see what mystery she tries to solve next.