ICYMI: The Wonderfully Surreal Don’t Trust the B— in Apartment 23 Deserves to Be Seen as Intended
Photo Courtesy of 20th Century Fox
“I’m not perfect
I’m no snitch?
But I can tell you
She’s a b— (buzzer sound)”
When the official announcement came out that James Van Der Beek would be a competitor on the newest season of ABC’s Dancing With the Stars, it clearly revealed that there are two types of people in this pop cultural world: those who figured it was an inevitability that “Dawson” would be on the Dancing With the Stars someday and those who took the ultimate delight in the fact that life was finally imitating (severely-underrated) art. After all, Van Der Beek’s major “first” season arc (proper, a point I’ll go into) in ABC’s two-season wonder Don’t Trust the B— in Apartment 23—in which he played an exaggerated version of himself—also involved him competing on Dancing With the Stars. In fact, in the show much ado was made about the lead-up to his performance, specifically against his main competition, Superman himself (to quote the series, “like seven Supermans ago”), Dean Cain.
And then it all came crashing down, as accidental dosing led to an embarrassment of a performance, dashing Van Der Beek’s dreams of going all the way and winning the gold Mirrorball trophy—which hopefully won’t happen on the real Dancing With the Stars. (Other competitors on this particular “season” were Al Roker and Fred Savage; it was a stacked fake cast.)
Surprisingly, though it was a main story arc in the series, James Van Der Beek on Dancing With the Stars probably wouldn’t even crack the top 10 weirdest plot points in Don’t Trust the B— in Apartment 23, neither as a whole nor just as a Van Der Beek-centric plot. Created by Nahnatchka Khan (Fresh Off the Boat, Always Be My Maybe)—who functioned as co-showrunner with David Hemingson (Kitchen Confidential, Whiskey Cavalier)—Don’t Trust the B— in Apartment 23 (the “B—” stands for “Bitch,” as is usually the case with ABC shows and the letter B) starred Krysten Ritter as Chloe, a chaotic grifter (among other things) and the titular “B—”, and Dreama Walker as June, her new roommate, fresh off the bus from Indiana. June was technically the audience surrogate character, moving to New York City right out of grad school, with a long-distance boyfriend, a brand new job in finance, and a kickass apartment to go along with all of it… that immediately all came crashing down (both figuratively and literally on her birthday cake) to create the series’ premise.
I say “technically” about the audience surrogacy, because the entire point of Don’t Trust the B— in Apartment 23 was to warp and subvert standard “fish out of water” and hangout sitcom tropes: the wide-eyed new in town protagonist to the wise next door neighbor (Michael “Mookie” Blaiklock’s Eli, an all-around pervert who actually does provide sage advice); the wacky neighbor (Liza Lapira’s Robin, a former Chloe roommate who is absolutely obsessed, wanting to both be and be with her); the “straight gay BFF” (James Van Deek, in a role as himself that was originally written for Lance Bass); and the put upon celebrity personal assistant (Ray Ford’s scene-stealing Luther Vandross Wilson). Surprisingly, the most normal character of the bunch was the one played by the most unlikely actor: Eric Andre as Mark, the other half of the series’ eventually will-they-won’t-they pairing with June. Andre’s Mark even had a Maris Crane-like girlfriend (especially when it came to her physical thinness and emotional coldness) named Jennifer, who was often spoken about but never seen.
While June tried to teach Chloe—whose youthful past involved “psychopath camp” and resenting her extremely kind mother for being in a wheelchair—how to be a decent person or at least less of a “B—” (in the pilot, she does call Chloe “the bitch in apartment 23”), it tended to come with her jumping through her own insane hoops to do so. In fact, while the series very much touted the concepts of “women behaving badly” and “unapologetic women”—what networks supposedly wanted in a post-Bridesmaid world, only to seemingly be surprised by just how badly and unapologetic these women would behave—there was a lot of heart to Don’t Trust the B— that existed without ever losing any of the series’ edge. And, without ever losing its non sequitur-heavy approach to humor, like referencing Bowfinger for no reason (the moment I knew I’d love the show forever), or a character whose entire personality is quoting or referencing La Bamba, or the specificity of Peri Gilpin being someone’s celebrity “freebie” (“She’s so dry”).
As the series was smart to explain very early on, while Chloe was certainly not a good person, she was the type of fiercely loyal person you’d want in your corner, which allowed for her to work as a character who never truly learned the right “lesson” on an episode-to-episode basis. The general principle would be that June was making Chloe better, though it was more that Chloe was making June worse … which may have, in turn, actually made her better. Sometimes that required Chloe to tranq June or dose her or trick her into signing adoption papers or (the original tactic) having sex with her boyfriend on her birthday cake.
It goes without saying that Ritter was the MVP as the titular “B—”, but Walker was also able to play June in a way that wasn’t just a buzzkill for Chloe’s insanity, instead leaning into the exaggerated nature of all of it, with every reaction (June’s shock and horror at Chloe’s actions are all-time great reaction shots) more impressively exaggerated as time went on. One of the greatest moments of the series is a mostly wordless scene where Chloe walks in on June in the bathtub, a knowing look on her face, and June finally just screams “NO I WASN’T !”
With this cast and the creative pedigree behind it, Don’t Trust the B— in Apartment 23 certainly had the ingredients for success, but it also had the weirdness to remain cult hit. In all honesty, that the series ever got two seasons was impressive, as it was truly too weird for network television. In Season Two’s “The D…” (aka “Making the Grade…”), a guy that June’s dating tells her, “You’re weird. I like you.” The same could be said about Don’t Trust the B— in Apartment 23 itself. It was very niche, its references often even more niche, and it regularly relied on non-sequiturs, as well as very flexible “rules” when it came to particular narrative structure. The series also featured voiceovers, but even that wasn’t just a “normal” aspect of the series: In Season One’s “Making Rent,” June’s voiceover turns into an inner monologue about how hungry she is, and then it turns into an upper-crust stranger’s (who we never see again) inner monologue, right before segueing into the opening theme.
Don’t Trust the B— in Apartment 23 was a live-action cartoon in a lot of ways, as if Khan had taken her American Dad sensibilities and simply transferred them into human—specifically, female human—characters. Again, weird. Yet also surprisingly detailed, with bizarre moments like James Van Der Beek ordering a whole roasted chicken for Busy Philipps—because he doesn’t “know what girls eat”—being later explained by a seemingly throwaway line in a separate episode about how that’s all his mother ate. Or June’s rambling about learning to scream (not attack, just scream) “NUTS, NOSE” in her self-defense class paying off in a later episode when there’s an intruder (and again, she doesn’t have an attack ready). There’s also the running joke about Chloe’s mother, who she first describes as a pill addict who never took her horseback riding before we even know the logical reason why that’s the case.
And honestly, while James Van Der Beek had that self-aware renaissance going in the early 2010s—which then continued with the surprisingly delightful What Would Diplo Do?—it’s Don’t Trust the B— in Apartment 23 that is the pinnacle of it, as his “character’s” vanity and overinflated sense of superiority are never once obnoxious. Which is surprising, given that Van Der Beek’s most well-known character—to quote Don’t Trust the B— in Apartment 23, “YOU’RE EVERYWHERE AND NOWHERE, DAWSON!”—was not intentionally written as obnoxious, but has carried that reputation for decades at this point. While the June character’s humor comes from her exposure to this new world and Chloe’s humor comes from her selfish approach to this world, Van Der Beek is particularly impressive in how he maneuvers around this world while mentally living in another one altogether.