She haunts the screen like she’s just emerged from a crypt: twin raven braids, ghostly complexion, shadowed undereyes and a tell-tale flat expression. Yet, Wednesday Addams (Jenna Ortega) is likewise sharp about the eyes, staring unblinkingly through her eyebrows with an air of ungraspable cleverness. Remarkably intelligent and infuriatingly curious, Nevermore Academy should be her refuge. But at the end of the day, Wednesday Addams is still an Addams; an outcast among outcasts. Netflix’s “Wednesday” (2022) wittily explores every corner of the isolating underside to being the only daughter in the token macabre nuclear family.
Nevermore Academy is a boarding school for outcasts –– more than just “People don’t like me” kids, they’re the“I’m a werewolf and my best friend is a vampire” selection. It’s a pretty far cry from your average high school, but it’s no Hogwarts. There is nothing welcoming about these Gothic towers and gargoyles, this persistent cloud-cover and isolation; intense prejudice keeps Nevermore kids locked away from the surrounding population of Jericho. A seclusion enforced by their principal –– an outcast herself –– Nevermore students are made to feel that being an outcast is only a gift inside school walls, forever a punishment in the real world.
Wednesday is about as unenthusiastic about attending Nevermore as one can imagine, thanks to one Morticia Addams. Forget human affection and bright colors –– there is nothing Wednesday hates more than being compared to her mother. “Wednesday” is a testament to mother-daughter relationships, the good, the bad and the ugly. Behind the show’s eye-candy –– the somewhat predictable, whimsical murder-mystery –– lies hard teenage truth: the pain that comes with unreachable standards.
Wednesday is an emotional fortress; it is difficult to break inside, to understand how she sees herself and how she wants to be seen. Naturally, she internalizes her fears; the thought of turning out like her mother –– the name on every Nevermore plaque and trophy –– makes her resistant to the school. Yet, there are cracks in Wednesday’s facade of disinterest. Within her insistence to carve out her own path exists a deep fear: amounting to nothing at all. Wednesday’s behavior throughout the series reflects her desperation to step out of Morticia’s shadow; the impulsive, yet controlled disregard for the rules that demonstrates both her intellect and independence. But Wednesday’s own instinct for excellence, and to protect those around her, is what likewise exists at the center of her mother’s cold, dark heart –– an uncomfortable truth.
Wednesday is a master of nuance; audiences are required to extract complicated internal monologues solely from her deadpan stare. Thanks to Jenna Ortega, this is an accessible feat. Once the TV has been turned off or the laptop closed, audiences may be left asking themselves: “Why did I like this so much?” After all, “Wednesday” has prompted quite the media circus for a show that can be so shockingly cheesy. The truth: Ortega’s ability to command the screen, to make the unattractive, isolating ugliness of being an outcast look effortlessly fashionable and cool, is mesmerizing. Still, Ortega maintains the cracks of vulnerability that are intrinsic to her character’s journey as a teenager and a member of the Addams family.
A modern spin-off wouldn’t be complete without a curiously butchered portrayal of Gen Z. Screenwriters, directors and producers have repeatedly missed the mark in bringing a truly competent and articulate Gen Z to life on screen without making them seem absolutely ridiculous. Oh, it’s true –– TikTok, Instagram and all that “nonsense” exists on most young people’s radars. However, it’s pretty unlikely that one will stumble across a group of 16-year-olds calling each other “living Instagram filters.” This aspect of “Wednesday” sticks out like a sore thumb; the meshing of significant themes, which get swept away by the grandeur of the show’s aesthetics and effects, and borderline farce.
“Wednesday” is breaking Netflix records. The show is dominating, not only on a statistical scale, but also in online discussion. A surge of interest, particularly in Wednesday herself, has risen from series director Tim Burton’s twist on the iconic character. Why? Look no further than the motifs in film and television content today. “Bones And All,” “Stranger Things,” “My Friend Dahmer,” now “Wednesday” –– the ultra-hyperbolized outcast that seeks to make you root for them, even when it’s dangerous. Jeffery Dahmer and Wednesday Addams have little in common, but the way the media wills you to interact with them, to sympathize with their struggles and become apologists for their bad behavior, is very much the same.
Realistically speaking, Wednesday is not the kind of girl most people would seek out for friendship. She’s rather cold, blunt, unfriendly and rude. These qualities are generally not conducive to successful or lasting friendships. “Wednesday” does not shy away from portraying the negative effects of Wednesday’s behavior on her relationships; the temporary abandonment, constant loneliness, etc. From the Wednesday-less side of the screen, it is easy to say: “Well, I’d be friends with her…” But the truth is, this show provides audiences with an unfair illusion. Online fascination suggests that audiences see Wednesday as a prototype, that they believe in the falsehood of “the best of both worlds” –– treating people poorly and getting love and respect in return. In the real world, well, it just doesn’t work like that.
So yes, Wednesday Addams is a certified cool girl. But her aestheticized cold shoulder does not translate outside of her imaginary gray-scale world. And really, she is so much more than that; she is a young girl who is figuring out who she is independent of her family, a girl who decides that this independence is more important to her than the romantic subplots that bite at her heels. “Wednesday” is doing significant work to create a story that understands the ultra-complicated Addams-family teenage experience, and Ortega is right there, supporting the show on her shoulders. Yet, somehow the most “creepy, kooky, mysterious and spooky” thing about “Wednesday” is its ability to captivate and influence masses of people –– for better or worse.
