In ‘UnPrisoned,’ Washington leans into comedic instincts
“I wasn’t born into a family so much as I was hatched,” is how Tracy McMillan has described her origin story. Her mom was a “20-year-old Minnesota girl with a really bad drinking problem,” and her dad was a “Billy Dee Williams type who committed crimes for a living.” Mom dipped out early on, which meant
Dad was her sole parent when he wasn’t incarcerated in one penitentiary or another. McMillan has filtered many of those details through a comedic lens in “UnPrisoned.”
Starring Kerry Washington and Delroy Lindo, the dramedy centers on a woman who reconnects with her father after he finishes his most recent prison sentence and comes to live with her and her teenage son in their Minneapolis neighborhood.
Paige (Washington) is a single mother and therapist. Her dad, Edwin (Lindo), is loving but something of a scoundrel who has been in and out of prison for most of her life. That meant her childhood was a succession of foster homes and then, from age 8 to 18, she was taken in and raised by her father’s then-girlfriend, a far-from-maternal woman who Paige still harbors many resentments toward all these years later.
Reacclimating to the outside world and attempting to go straight, Edwin is sincere in his efforts to forge a relationship with his daughter and grandson. But Paige has been burned too many times to take these efforts seriously at first.
McMillan and showrunner Yvette Lee Bowser
share a sensibility that finds humor in life’s absurdities as well as all the psychological fault lines that appear whenever groups of people are bound together by shared histories. The series has a terrific snap to it, with an ear attuned to banter that touches on — and sometimes deflects — deeper issues. The combination works because it’s not glib, but a coping mechanism.
Every so often Paige finds herself in conversation with her inner child — an actual child, dressed in identical outfits as her adult counterpart — who gives voice to all the anxieties she keeps mostly tamped down.
The supporting cast expands her world, but it’s conspicuous that she appears to have no Black friends or colleagues. Early on, she jokes that the white foster family with whom she felt most stable and safe probably shaped her formative ideas about what love looks like, which is why she has been dating a succession of white men. That changes when she meets her dad’s parole officer (Marque Richardson), a handsome and patient guy whose patience only extends so far when
Paige dabbles with some self-sabotaging choices.
It’s a strong cast all around, including Jee Young Han as Paige’s foster sister/gal pal, Jordyn McIntosh as her blunt-talking inner child and Brenda Strong as her father’s ex-girlfriend.
Lindo always brings a swagger to his roles, and it’s not just his physical presence and loping gait, but something innate about Edwin — he’s a charmer extraordinaire — while also tapping into the character’s vulnerability, as well.
The real revelation here is Washington, who is looser than ever. When a line calls for sarcasm, there’s a buoyancy to it.
It’s a performance that’s just this side of screwball. Here, she’s straddling a line between light and heavy, and she has terrific chemistry with Lindo, but just as interestingly, she has terrific chemistry with herself. So much of “UnPrisoned” is about Paige coming to grips with who she is and the experiences that shaped her. As distressing as that may be, there’s a levity to her outlook.
What’s that old saying? I’ll cry if I don’t laugh. The show’s creators take that to heart.