Jane The Virgin

‘Channel 4 is like a flood of sewage that comes unbidden into your home, whereas E4 is like you’ve voluntarily constructed a sluice to let it in.’

(Stewart Lee)

It has now been over a year since I first started this blog. My first blog received over 40 views; the most recent one just 12. I guess what this proves is only the diehard fans - and my mother - are left. With that in mind, ‘cheerleaders,’ (this is the collective noun for people who read the blog) I think it is time I’m open with you. I mean, you’ve invested hours in me; it’s only right I be truthful and honest with you. After much thought, I’ve decided to come clean about my less than savoury behaviour. The thing is … and there’s no easy way of saying this … I’m a television snob.  I think I have been for a long time; I’ve just never admitted to it. It all began when I read my first Radio Times. The Radio Times has been in our family for generations: my nan’s magazine rack was essentially an exhibition to the listings magazines with 70’s copies, fronted by convicted pedophiles, sitting alongside modern copies, fronted by yet-to-be convicted pedophiles. Every Christmas, each family member would ring the programmes they wanted to see, with any clashes resolved by a Medieval duel. It’s sad that my dad died in the ‘Battle of the Soaps,’ but what was he thinking in circling Emmerdale. At yuletide, we continue to lay a space in honour of him. I guess what I'm saying is, television is in my family's blood: if you're willing to pay £2.20 a week for a listings magazine, when all the times are available for free on-screen, then you must really care about TV.

Who controls the TV controls the world.

So although I don’t watch lots of television, I’m selective about it. I don’t play the spin the bottle with my viewing, flicking through the multitude of options in the hope that it lands on something appealing. Instead I make appointments with it. I look at the listings in the morning and set a reminder, effectively phoning ahead to make a reservation. In a recent trawl though the guide, I saw a show called Jane The Virgin on E4. The title makes it sound terrible, doesn't it? It sounds like it’s going to be a high-school comedy where a socially awkward teen is mocked mercilessly for being sexually inactive, until a popular guy takes pity on her, eventually wooing her much to the chagrin of her bitchy classmates. It sounds like a John Hughes vehicle. But in being on E4, it sounds like a John Hughes vehicle if it were stripped of all nuance and charm, only to then be fitted with tasteless alloys.

Two weeks ago, I was looking through Netflix and Jane was the highlighted show. Garlanded around the title, highlighted in red, were five stars. Now Netflix’s scoring system doesn’t always agree with mine: The Office has three stars. The Office! The sitcom where art and comedy coalesced to produce the most profound laughs on life's minutiae. 3 stars. Average. Like a Sunday night ITV drama. Like a cup of tea made by someone you haven't vetted. Like a meal at Wetherspoons. 3 stars. For all of that though, a five-star review on Netflix is a good indicator of quality – not enough to not make me Google it so I could get a second opinion from the Radio Times, but a good indicator nonetheless. 

3 stars.

Safe to say, I was wrong to be a snob about Jane The Virgin- just because it premiered in Britain on E4 doesn’t make it a bad thing. Yes, E4 is usually a landfill site for repeats and terrible panel shows, but along with Jane it has also produced My Mad Fat Diary, another of my favourite shows; therefore, proving that a stopped clock is right twice a day. 

Jane is an inspired piece of television that manages to be simultaneously mainstream and ambitious. It is inspired by the Mexican telenovela, Juana le Virgin, a show about a chaste girl that, as a consequence of accidental insemination, becomes pregnant with another man’s baby. The telenovela holds huge appeal in Hispanic communities with fans enjoying the format’s escapist quality and idiosyncratic way with melodrama. Jane The Virgin is both a parody and pastiche of this source material, celebrating its warm heart whilst laughing at its absurdity.

The first episode begins with a breathless voice-over from a heavily accented Latin American. We’re told the story of how a young Jane was turned onto chastity by her grandmother, the religious Alba. In the opening montage, Jane is directed by Alba to crush the flower in her hand; on breaking the petals she is then instructed to re-construct it; her inability to do so is a Catholic lesson in sexual restraint: ‘Once you lose your virginity, you’ll never get it back.’ Before you worry that the show has been crowd-funded by the religious-right, Jane’s mother, Xo, looks on horrified, urging her daughter to ignore her grandmother’s education. Over the course of the episode, Jane is impregnated, which leads to a difficult call: first to her boyfriend; then, in deciding to have a baby she did not plan for.

After the first episode the series becomes a family-drama/murder mystery/romantic-love triangle. You see the sperm Jane is carrying belongs to her hotel boss, Rafael, a flame that she formally held a torch for. He is married to Petra, who is having an affair with her husband’s best friend, Ramon Zazo. Zazo is killed at the hotel as part of a suspected drug ring. His murder is being investigated by Michael, Jane’s detective boyfriend. This brings Michael into daily contact with Rafael, the father of Jane’s child, who Jane may or may not have feelings for.

All of this happens within the first few episodes.

The fact that this pinball of multi-ball narrative is maintained so successfully is down to that holy trinity of all good programme making: writing, acting and directing. The writers, like I said earlier, play with the telenovela format quite beautifully, staying loyal to its multitudinous plot-lines whilst undercutting them with wry humour. In one of the episodes the voice-over is so long, owing to the farcical plot, that it stops mid-sentence with the line, ‘I’ll stop now, otherwise I’ll be doing a recap of the recap.’ Also, the fact that Jane and her family all sit down to watch their favourite telenovela, means they’re imbued with the fantasy of the genre, giving rise to hilarious dream sequences where they have morphed into their television heroes. What with the play within a play, ironic voice-over and the dream sequences, what you're essentially looking at is a commercial surrogate carrying the offspring of Arrested Development and Woody Allen's Play It Again, Sam.

Gina Rodriguez won a Golden Globe for her portrayal of the titular character, which is just deserts for the previous unknown. No matter how unbelievable the story gets in Jane, we continue to believe in her character’s actions and reactions. Unlike the voice-over, there is no emotional distance in her performance, no winks to camera to say, ‘isn’t this all silly?’ Instead she invests in Jane a huge deal of dignity and grace. As viewers, we can’t empathise with the overarching crisis Jane finds herself in (having an immaculate conception) but we can understand her struggle to choose between suitors, futures (being a writer or teacher) and desires (the flesh vs the Spirit). In a hurricane of storyline, Rodriguez keeps Jane upright and normal, because of this the show never once crashes to the ground.

Gina Rodriguez.

Ultimately, Jane The Virgin is a delight. I've got Series 2 circled in my Radio Times for Wednesday at 7.30. Though, you can catch the whole of the first series on Netflix.