The Chair is the most binge-worthy show in recent memory. I sat down and watched it all in one sitting, in large part thanks to Sandra Oh’s Ji-Yoon Kim, the first woman of color to become chair of the English department at a fictional, but clearly storied (read: Ivy League) university. Oh’s Ji-Yoon is compelling, imperfect and infinitely watchable. The show is also well-written, suspenseful and very of the present day. Creators Amanda Peet and Annie Wyman have perfectly set themselves up for a second season. In the meantime, there’s much to learn from season one.
1. Leave them wanting more. The Chair hits on so many huge issues: #metoo, racism, cancel culture, adoption outside of the same race, that it’s a lot to take in and a lot to think about — and that’s the point. Tackling being a collegiate professor in the 2020s has to hit on all of these issues, or the show would feel moot. That said, the show also feels like it’s just scratching the surface on some of the cans of worms it has opened. Namely, when Bill (played by Jay Duplass), Ji-Yoon’s love interest on the show, gets canceled (after doing a Nazi salute in a classroom discussion) there isn't really enough dialogue between Bill and his very upset students. Then there’s a killer cliffhanger when it’s revealed Bill refused a very handsome settlement so he can teach again instead of settling and admitting guilt. A huge complication presented in a compelling way, leaving room for a great second season.
2. Writing about the now. This show is a clash of the old and the new, the staid professor and the student wanting to see change in the world, the traditional vs the kind of hopeless optimism that can keep teachers teaching for a very long time. This show is a forum for all of the difficult discussions against that backdrop of differing opinions. And it’s very welcome, as so few shows feel open to digging this deep into rapidly evolving workplace culture in the face of what feels like America’s most difficult growing pains yet. Oh, and also, the show is very, very funny. It’s a true tribute to the writers to pull off both tricks: Compelling conversation and debate couched in likable, imperfect characters with a sense of humor.
3. Potential romance. Ji-Yoon has almost a taboo-level potential romance. She is now Bill’s boss, and Bill goes from most popular to least popular professor in the blink of an eye, that the university must now find a way to get rid of at the behest of Bill’s students. That makes a full-on romance off the table, but Sandra Oh and Jay Duplass have such wonderful chemistry (and, oh yeah, Bill is fantastic with Ji-Yoon’s kid who is not always the fondest of her mother at the moment) that it’s almost Romeo and Juliet level star-crossed and taboo — and yet another way to keep viewers coming back for another season.
4. Embracing imperfection. It is refreshing to see a character with multiple imperfections come to embrace them. In fact, that feels like Jin-Yoon’s journey. When she takes over as chair, she feels like she must uphold an impossible standard as the first ever woman of color to get the job. But she ends up running in circles trying to please everyone in the department, her unshakeable boss, the dean, and a budding potential love interest, not to mention her less than conventional family. Jin-Yoon loses sight of why she loves working at a college to begin with, but when she starts to let go of the idea of perfection, she finds her way back.
5. Remaining unpredictable. There are unexpected episodes in The Chair, proving that more representation helps make for moving and more unpredictable television. When Bill attends a Korean birthday party as an outsider and has a breakdown, the kindness shown to him and how much Bill is moved by the birthday make for cringe-worthy and wonderful watching. When Ju-Ju, Jin-Yoon’s daughter, gets chosen as class representative to speak about Dia De Los Muertos, conflicts arise between mother and daughter and Ju-Ju perceptively tries to summon Bill’s deceased wife back to a still-grieving man. When the viewer thinks a scene might turn one way, the writers clearly always choose the most dangerous path and it most often turns out glorious.
Final Takeaway: The Chair is unpredictable, fresh, current and tough not to binge in one night. It’s everything that makes for great television: Choosing the most dangerous path in scenes, controversy, and characters struggling with imperfection in a world that demands so much.