Ready for Betty

Ugly Betty is in the precarious position of being a borderline hit. The show brings in a respectable 13 million viewers: everyone’s heard of the show—but not everyone’s been watching. Which is a damn shame. When Betty earned a Peabody (the most prestigious award in television) this year, the committee recognized the show’s “wry intelligence and heart.” The Peabody people aren’t kidding. Betty’s more than a campy telenovela with a Devil Wears Prada hook. If you skipped out on these 22 episodes of glory, here’s what you’ve been missing:

The most lovable can-do heroine on TV. America Ferrera didn’t just snag the breakout role of a lifetime when she was cast as the ambitious, darling Betty Suarez. She also created the most heartbreakingly vivid and surprisingly realistic twentysomething female character in ages (not to mention one of television’s few minority leading ladies). Beyond Betty’s sartorial missteps lies a smart, capable and morally sound young woman—who’s occasionally crippled by self-doubt, who wonders why she works so hard for so little and whose family crises seem unending. Her life is split between being a fish out of water at the ultraglam Mode magazine offices and being trapped by the small-town fishbowl of Queens, a sometimes clunky metaphor for being stuck between adolescence and adulthood.

An oversaturated soap that’s as hilarious as it is emotional. Still aching for the glory days of Melrose Place? Bitch, your prayers have been answered. Betty’s penchant for the outrageous—Who’s the mystery woman? This scheme reeks of murder! I’m tired of sleeping with you, and now I’ll sleep with your boss!—keeps the series bobbing along. But broad soapiness can grow wearisome. Just ask Desperate Housewives. That’s why Betty plays its absurdities against its legitimate depictions of sibling rivalry, familial responsibility, professional frustration and glowing moments of personal triumph. Oh, and the show’s hilarious. Lines like, “You have to be my seeing-eye gay,” restrained use of slapstick and pointed celebrity satire put Betty in a comedy class all its own.

An OCD-caliber attention to detail. Costumes. Score. Camerawork. Why don’t other shows make better use of TV as a medium? Betty’s loopy editing, like sweeps and split screens, and creative camera angles, like shots that spoof horror and mystery styles, create and reinforce the alternate-universe nature of the show. Brilliant costuming and vibrant sets complete the package. Watch for the ever-changing tchotchkes in the Mode hallway: In the Christmas episode, it’s ice skates; in the Secretary’s Day episode, it’s retro telephones. And when the show veers from lunatic (duck-semen facials…really) to lifelike (Betty and Hilda having a sisterly showdown), composer Jeff Beal’s whimsical, subtle score holds disjointed episodes together. These stylish flourishes lend Betty a polish most freshman comedies lack.

Prime time’s most queer-friendly show. Find us another series with a transgendered character in its inner circle. A story about self-acceptance and identity can hardly ignore its gay themes, and Betty embraces them, from the superqueeny Marc St. James to the glitter-loving, tap-dancing tween Justin Suarez. In one episode, Justin, his supportive mom, Hilda, and his estranged-but-coming-around dad, Santos, are trapped on the subway on their way to see Hairspray. Justin takes it upon himself to fill his dad in on the parts of the show they’re missing, and starts belting out “Good Morning Baltimore” and explaining the plot, which he calls “way satisfying.” We’ll follow Justin’s lead here and say Betty’s approach to its characters is the same. Guest spots from Patti LuPone and Kristin Chenowith don’t hurt the show’s gay cred, either.

The cultural zeitgeist. Immigration laws and the cost of prescription drugs rarely make for good soap-opera fodder. But amid the back-stabbing and the zippy one-liners, Betty manages to capture and dramatize issues of actual import.

Ugly Betty: The Complete First Season is available Tuesday 21 from Buena Vista Home Entertainment ($59.99).