The Unicorn Scale: Dead To Me

By Jennie Roberson

January 19, 2021

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Photo credit: Netflix

Most of the time, I like to try to write my reviews as if they’re a timeless affair — trapped outside of the continuum, forever relatable and applicable whenever a reader should happen to come across them. I think it gives them a sense of universality that serves them well. But the truth of the matter is, it’s safe to say every reader coming across this column has been touched in one way or another by the COVID-19 pandemic. 

One of the few silver linings of dealing with this particular period of time is that oh-so-many of us have perfected our binge-watching and quickly taken up recommendations for great shows on streaming services that came across our way. And even though “the list” of to-watch shows never seems to finish up, I love to check ones off the list — especially ones that came to me as a recommendation of a different take on a bi character!

So with all that in mind, I am finally getting around to one of the recs I got in 2020: the Netflix dreamed Dead To Me.

Now before I get any deeper into describing this show, it’s important I go over some disclaimers in case anyone here is fresh to the Unicorn Scale. First and foremost: my review will have SPOILERS for the series’ plot, up to and including season two. It is also crucial I signal that we will be going over some darker themes from DTM’s content. Finally, if you’re new to the Scale (or would love to get a refresher), feel free to bone up on the metric in question here, or check out our Media Entry here.

Dead To Me is a 2019 Netflix original series which focuses on the tangled lives of Jen (Christina Applegate), a recently widowed mother and realtor in Laguna Beach who befriends Judy (Linda Cardellini), an arts and crafts teacher for an elderly care facility she meets at a grief support group. The thing is, unbeknownst to Jen, Linda is the one who made a widow of her when she ran into her husband.

Image/Netflix

(Also, please don’t be like me and keep confusing this story’s title with the show Dead Like Me, which is another beast altogether.)

What I Liked:

I really appreciated how series creator/writer Liz Feldman and company strived to let Judy’s relationships, old and new, develop for us on screen. While we do get to see Judy with her emotionally abusive ex-fiance Steve (James Marsden) and a rebound relationship with Nick (Brandon Scott), it’s really the relationship she starts with Michelle (Natalie Morales), which allows her to give and receive proper love and affection. We are left with zero doubt about her attractions to people of multiple genders.

Not only that, but Dead to Me manages to get in so many other beautiful elements about Judy and her friendship with Jen. When Judy reveals her new relationship with Michelle, Judy is: 1) confident about her attraction, 2) Jen is supportive of and happy for her friend, and 3) it’s not an on-a-very-special-Blossom “coming out” episode. There is a gorgeous, casual queerness on display here — especially with a same-sex couple being front-and-center.

Image/Netflix

Also, despite the fact that Judy has committed manslaughter and strung together a bunch of lies, her character at its core is morally good, harbors good intentions, and never wields her sexuality as any form of a weapon. It’s a really heady combo because while the character has done really terrible things, she doesn’t feel like a played-out, malicious-bisexual stereotype.

Ooh, and major points for casting Natalie Morales, a sexually fluid woman who has already played groundbreaking bi characters, like Michelle. After decades of having queer roles played by straight actors, this is still a sticking point for me as far as bi representation. It’s wonderful to see such a luminary actress in such an important role.

Image/Netflix

What I Didn't Like:

If you’ve been reading my reviews for a while, you’ve seen quite a theme emerge in this section. In fact, it’s such a pervasive problem that it gets mentioned in nearly every review — because it’s something creators still refuse to do. Usually, I have bigger fish to fry and mention the issue in passing, but it became such a sticking point not only in my viewing but in my research that I decided to upgrade it today from a side dish to the whole damn meal.

What am I talking about? The fact that neither Judy nor anyone around her uses any labels when talking about her same-sex relationship or sexual orientation. No one ever says “bi,” “fluid,” “queer,” or anything of the like anywhere within the series.    

Why does that bother me, you may ask? Because I am all for casual queerness and having sexuality not be the main point of a character. I am, however, really bothered when the “doesn’t do labels” narrative gets adopted either by the characters or, in this case, by creator Feldman in a whole passel of interviews about Judy’s storyline.


On the one hand, I get where Feldman is coming from, and I think SO MUCH of Judy’s story is handled beautifully. But the whole sidestepping of putting a label in her mouth (or anyone else’s during the whole damn show) does a great disservice to the bi community. Feldman hopes that as a society, we start “getting there” to a point where labels aren’t as important, but the truth is we’re not. And part of the reason is that we have queer characters who keep appearing on-screen and eschew any form of a queer label. While Feldman has culled a community of friends where this type of life is normal, it is a privileged one that so many of her viewers cannot have access to in their youth — and so desperately need to see named and given attention to on the small, silver, accessible screen. This idealistic rendering tries to leapfrog an important step in representation for our demographic that is damaging for those desperate for nuanced, named forms of representation while they come into their own.

Especially considering when she is at the wheel of creating an original series and can call the shots on so much of the story since it’s her baby. I’m a huge fan of show-not-tell, but when a show like Dead to Me pulls a stunt like this, it’s trying to have its cake and eat it, too. And it’s such an easy fix in the writers’ room!

Image/Netflix

The Rating:

There is so much to love about Dead To Me. Not only do we have a show that, while based on some murderous plots, does not default to #KillYourGays, but it lets its queer relationship breathe and let us in on lovely, emotionally intimate moments. Judy’s character is three-dimensional and gets to have and build a supportive network of friends during her growth in the series. But good God in Heaven, I hope the newly greenlit third season lets her label herself. Considering what the woman has gone through, she deserves to get to name her new, dynamic love and her manifold sexual attractions — no matter the gender.

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