The Unicorn Scale: The Politician

Hey there, Unicorn readers! So here’s a question for you: have you ever gotten involved in politics? Oh, I’m not asking for what party you worked for, but rather if you ever helped out — or even ran — a campaign. I’ve been involved in plenty of them over the years. My parents ran a local chapter of a national campaign while I grew up. I’ve canvassed to help a measure make sure a city continued to offer free parking. I’ve even phone banked for a candidate or two. 

But the campaigns that stick with me most of all were when I was in junior and high school. Oh yes — yours truly ran for treasurer in 7th grade... and lost miserably. (Rigged.) By the time I got to high school, I saw through the elections for the popularity contests they were and helped my best friend put up her posters. She was running for, drumroll... Communist Czar.

Why do I bring up these stories? Because television mogul Ryan Murphy’s first project from his massive Netflix deal, The Politician (2019), recently dropped and covers both the pressures and the silliness of prep school elections. Someone put a bug in my ear that it was chock-full of queer characters.

Could that be true? I knew I had to poll — er, peruse — the series and see if it was up to snuff.

Before we start counting ballots of queerness, I should pause and dole out a few important disclaimers. First and foremost, there will be SPOILERS for the first season. It’s also crucial I give a content warning: suicide and depression. Finally, if this is your first time reading a Unicorn Scale, or you’d just like a quick refresher on how I am gauging this content, you can find out more at the metric page riiiiight overrrrrr here.

The Politician is a satirical drama with elements of black comedy focusing on Payton (Ben Platt), a fanatically ambitious high school senior in Santa Barbara, California, fixated on the idea he must win the election for senior class president to pave his way to the White House. Surrounded by driven and fast-talking yes-men working tirelessly towards his win, Payton is thrown for a loop when his Mandarin tutor and lover, the popular River (David Corenswet), throws his hat into the ring.

What I Liked:

Before I get into the queerness quotient, I want to make a personal note. I happen to be from Santa Barbara, so as an insider, I can say there were a whole lot of things The Politician gets right. While the show likes to call the prep school San Sebastian, the high school location is Santa Barbara High School (my rival high school, actually), as well as a lot of fun location shoots around the area (the library is actually part of the courthouse, the chapel is a seminary near the campus, etc.) But the show also makes sure to address the wealth gap at the campus (and throughout the whole town, really) when the three main candidates who run for the ballot — all from obscenely wealthy families — start looking for economic diversity for their ballot and platform.

Lemme tell you, as one of the non-upper-crusts going to school with children of monied families, this show felt right at home — right down to the aesthetic in the estates of the main characters (I got flashbacks of going to palatial spreads like those during school group projects.) To point, I can remember a classmate scoring both a brand new BMW and a modeling contract on her 16th birthday. So if someone watching this show thinks the settings or circumstances are utter works of fiction, this local girl can tell you... Murphy and Co. were dead on.

All right, all right, enough with the aside of weird nostalgia. What about the Scale? Well. Not only does this show reveal two of the lead characters are bi within the first ten minutes, but there are more fluid characters than I can recall in one place in recent memory.

While the series is a fascinating take on the ruthlessness of Election (1999), it has the tonal echoes of both the overachieving nature and near-monotone but breakneck-speed dialogue of Rushmore (1998) and confidently assures us that most of the characters are very matter-of-fact about being bi. So many of the characters are queer, it’s almost inconsequential to the plot, or at least takes on a different slant than we normally see in modern television. The strange bedfellows adage of the political world has less to do with who these characters actually sleep with and more about the best optics of blended demographics.

(On a personal note: the Santa Barbara I grew up in was not nearly this queer-friendly; I went to a secret support group in college. But nowadays, there is a Pride parade and multiple groups and centers for the community. To say this public is a refreshing change is... an understatement.)

Not only are there more bi characters than we can shake a stick at, but they all have an excellent amount of development. With over half a dozen bi+ characters at play, more than half of those people are main and supporting characters. Bisexuality is rarely played for a joke at San Sebastian — instead, it’s normalized as the appropriate representation for a very queer Gen Z on display.

Speaking of representation, there is so much good stuff going on in that department on this dark comedy. While a good chunk of the ultra-rich main characters are white (shocker), much of the rest of the cast is filled out with people of color and people with disabilities.

Not only that, but we get a lovely glimpse into a happy poly marriage (including Judith Light, Joe Morgan, and Teddy Sears as their third) in the season finale — quite possibly the healthiest relationship on the show. This was an unexpected turn in a show full of hairpin plot twists, but a very welcome one — we so rarely see ethical non-monogamy in modern stories unless it’s used as a punchline. It was glorious to see a strong alliance depicted with such loving tenderness in the final act.

What I Didn't Like:

All this being said, I did have my share of problems with the show. As a local, it did irk me there were almost no Hispanics or Latinos on screen. It comes across as ludicrous, considering that that demographic makes up about a third of the population and is one of the largest groups who are victims of the wealth gap the candidates love to talk about. This is something that has happened time and again with depictions of Santa Barbara on film, and it deserves a remedy. Maybe Murphy and his executive producers can get on that in the second season.

While I don’t have many qualms about the quantity of bi+ representation in the Netflix series, I do take umbrage with the quality of it in places. While politics is hell and high school is hell with a locker, nearly all of the characters are ruthless beyond necessity in obtaining their goals. While many of them have relatable moments, few of them are genuinely likable (except for River.) This could play into the “untrustworthy” stereotype about the bi-community and doesn’t necessarily buoy our representation in media in the best way.

But there are also some black comedy elements that need to be addressed. Within the first few minutes of the pilot, River dies by suicide, which drop-kicks the entire narrative into action. While the characters express moments of genuine grief over the matter, the series as a whole treats suicide with a gallows-level of black humor and levity at times, which could be devastating to younger viewers (especially since this content was made with a rating friendly for high schoolers).

Sure, Netflix slaps a warning/disclaimer at the top of the first episode, but after that, the warning is gone — but the slights continue. The title card doesn’t even offer a number or a website where those who struggle with suicidal thoughts could reach out if they get triggered by the story. This lack of follow-through is absurd and could very easily be damaging — especially considering Netflix is still dealing with the accusations of glorifying/getting the reasons behind dying by suicide wrong with other teen content.

Also, on a petty note, there are some names/pronunciations that actors get wrong about places and streets around town, like Milpas. Santa Barbara is only a hundred miles north of L.A., y’all. Feel free to hire me as a local posterity consultant, Ryan.

The Rating:

The Politician certainly has its problems; while it has a bumper crop of bi+ characters, many are so mean-spirited I didn’t feel driven to get invested in their stories. But the production and story are still compelling enough to get me to watch another season. Not all politicians have to be likable, anyway.

So, in conclusion, thanks for your time. And don’t forget to vote for me for Prom Queen.