Nasty Women Take TV in ‘Good Girls’

If there ever was a show tailor-made for the women of 2018, it would have to be NBC’s new drama “Good Girls.” Created by writer Jenna Bans (“Desperate Housewives,” “Grey’s Anatomy,” “Scandal”) and featuring both a majority-female main cast and a majority-female production team, “Good Girls” is one part “Desperate Housewives,” one part “Grey’s Anatomy” (the Meredith and Cristina part), and two parts “Thelma and Louise.” Though its basic premise—three struggling suburban moms rob a grocery store—is a little silly and not entirely believable, the show finds its weight from its grounded depiction of women and the facets of their worlds: their relationships (with men, with their children, with each other), their concerns, and their realities in America today. Bans and her team skillfully navigate these topics, weaving them into the type of binge-worthy drama generally dismissed as “guilty pleasure” or worse—“women’s television.” The show subverts this stereotype with strong, complex female representation. “Girls today can be anything,” begins the pilot’s opening voiceover, spoken by a young girl. And they can be anything—even armed robbers.

The plot follows three suburban moms: Beth Boland (Christina Hendricks), a stereotypical housewife in a loveless marriage; her sister, Annie Marks (Mae Whitman), a young single mom; and their friend Ruby Hill (Retta), a waitress with a strong marriage but a very sick daughter. When faced with financial troubles, the three come together to rob the local grocery store where Annie works. From there, it’s almost immediately apparent that the trio is in over their heads as situations spiral out of control (a gang gets involved, and guns are pointed inside the women’s homes more than once). Despite the craziness of the robbery plot, the personal trials and relationships of these three mommy-robbers quickly eclipse it.

Hendricks and Retta both give strong performances (Hendricks especially is stellar) in the pilot’s intense cliffhanger ending, Retta in moments of intimacy with her husband and daughter), but it is Mae Whitman who really steals the spotlight in this first episode. Whitman plays Annie with nuance and versatility, breathing life into an otherwise unlikable, fairly one-dimensional character. In so many scenes, Annie is what you’d expect her to be: the immature, irresponsible little sister, a teen mother with a “tramp stamp” who never really grew up. She seems to be all bravado and impulsivity, talking back at work and spending thousands of dollars of the stolen money on fancy things without consulting the others. But all this recklessness and attitude just emphasizes the impact of Annie’s softer moments when worrying about her daughter (a girl “who enjoys a jaunty bow tie” and is bullied in school) or her sister. Most notably, over the course of the episode, Annie is raped, a traumatic and still all too common violation in today’s world. Here, in a masterful performance by Whitman, Annie is vulnerable and young and terrified, but not helpless nor diminished.

Much of “Good Girls” has this same sharp awareness of the difficulties of life as an American woman. “We’ve finally broken that glass ceiling and wow, it sure looks good from the top,” continues the opening voiceover, juxtaposed with scenes of the unfulfilled, underappreciated Beth preparing her family for the day. Although the show is constantly aware of, and subtly commenting on, the places where modern feminism (and society) falls short, it also shines a light on the beauty and tenderness of female friendship. These women face issues of financial hardship, sexual assault, illness, and infidelity, among others, but they also hunt for caramel bugles at the store. They love “The Bachelorette.” They take care of each other, comfort each other, yell at each other (when necessary). In a world full of men who almost universally treat them badly, women aren’t just “good girls”—they’re the good guys.

It’s not that “Good Girls” purports to be “feminism goals.” It doesn’t. In fact, much of the show’s power lies in the fact that it is not trying to be anything other than what it is: a story by women, about women, for women, presenting the issues that women face in a format commonly connected to women (often with a negative connotation). “Good Girls” makes an impact because the show, like the women who star in it, is both strong and sensitive, covering big issues and personal tragedies with equal vigor and respect.

With its exhilarating, somewhat unbelievable plot and strong female characters (and killer female vocalist-driven soundtrack), “Good Girls” is a near-perfect show for its time and its target demographic, striking a careful balance between feminist media and pure wine-night entertainment. Against this wild robbery backdrop, it shows mothers as they are day-to-day, trying their best to raise the next generation of women while navigating their own challenges, doing what they have to do to ensure their best chance at life, liberty, and the pursuit of $30,000.