Why MTV’s Recently Canceled Sweet/Vicious Deserves Both Cult Status and a Second Life
Image courtesy of MTV
Did you hear the one about the rape survivor who teams up with a wisecracking bong aficionado to take justice against their campus’ sexual predators into their own hands?
Probably not. Despite a protracted and impassioned campaign from the series’ rabidly loyal fan base, MTV canceled Sweet/Vicious—which premiered, grimly, a week after the 2016 election, and immediately set itself apart as one of the few properties in the history of Hollywood to treat sexual assault not only with gravity and honesty, but, crucially, with the victims’ trauma at the center of the narrative—late last month.
If you tuned in to MTV’s inaugural Movie & TV Awards this past weekend, this is a decision that may surprise you. Didn’t MTV go all in on social consciousness with its introduction of the first ever gender-neutral Best Actor category? Didn’t they invite Senator Maxine Waters—theAuntie Maxine—to present an award for the best “fight against the system”? Doesn’t it seem like having a smart, warm, deadly funny show featuring badass women dismantling rape culture from the inside on their limited roster of scripted series would be a priority for MTV, given all that? Yes! They did! Yes! It would!
And yet, MTV gave Sweet/Vicious, their most ambitious and “woke” show since Faking It (also canceled), the axe.
Certainly, low viewership played into this, but aside from whatever boost a Teen Wolf lead-in might have provided, Sweet/Vicious was not given the promotional campaign it deserved. All the show’s related Twitter handles were on point—series creator Jenn Kaytin Robinson and series leads Eliza Bennett (Jules), Taylor Dearden (Ophelia), and Aisha Dee (Kennedy) were (and continue to be) particularly engaged, especially with fans who saw their own stories reflected in the show—but aside from that, nothing. And now, the series is only available to purchase on Amazon.
Still: Go watch it. Right now. Go watch all of it. At a moment when Big Little Lies and The Handmaid’s Tale are among the year’s critical darlings, and as audiences of Girls and Pretty Little Liars are realizing they will soon need a new favorite show to fill that “badass lady-led dramedy” void—and, most crucially, as our President is a self-confessed sexual assaulter, surrounded by rape apologists and rape culture deniers—there is no show more deserving of your eyeballs and passion than this one.
I could try to convince you with further description of Jules’ and Ophelia’s origin story (it involves the most inappropriate inclusion ever of Wicked), or of the satisfying complexity each of the friendships and romantic relationships outside of the vigilante partnership are given (Brandon Mychal Smith, Nick Fink, Stephen Friedrich and Ethan Dawes acquit themselves beautifully as Dudes Who Get It), or of the best of the beatdowns the girls give out (they are many, and wonderful). I could reassure you that the central arcs all wrap up satisfyingly, should the first be the only season we ever get.