The animated reboot of ‘Good Times’ is a modern take on the beloved 1970s classic, injecting fresh energy into its iconic narrative through the vibrant medium of animation. Premiering on Netflix last week, on April 12th, the series is helmed by co-creator Ranada Shepard, with a powerhouse lineup of executive producers including original ‘Good Times’ creator Norman Lear, Seth MacFarlane of ‘Family Guy’ fame, and basketball legend Stephen Curry.
The show brings together a stellar voice cast featuring Yvette Nicole Brown, Jay Pharoah, Marsai Martin, Slink Johnson, and Rashida “Sheedz” Olayiwola, who infuse life into the familiar characters of the Evans family as they navigate the challenges of life in a Chicago housing project.
Set against the backdrop of Chicago’s housing projects, the narrative delves into the lives of the fourth generation of the Evans family, residing in apartment 17C. Echoing timeless themes of resilience and familial bonds, the series attempts to pay homage to its predecessor while offering a contemporary perspective on the Black experience.
However, despite its noble intentions, the animated reboot of ‘Good Times’ falls short of expectations. As a viewer, I typically give shows the benefit of three episodes to capture my interest. Yet, ‘Good Times’ fell short of even this modest threshold.
At its core, “Good Times” was a groundbreaking show in the 1970s, highlighting the struggles and triumphs of a working-class African American family in Chicago. Led by John Amos as patriarch, James Evans, the original series navigated themes of poverty, resilience, and family dynamics in a way that resonated with audiences across racial and socioeconomic lines.
However, the animated reboot fails to capture the essence and significance of the original series. One of the most glaring issues is the perpetuation of negative stereotypes and outdated tropes about Black communities. Instead of evolving with the times and presenting a nuanced and authentic portrayal of contemporary Black experiences, the reboot relies on regressive caricatures that do a disservice to the legacy of “Good Times” and the broader Black community.
The decision to maintain the setting in a Chicago housing project and portray generational poverty as a defining aspect of the Black experience is not only lazy storytelling but also reinforces harmful misconceptions. It overlooks the progress and diversity within Black communities, reducing complex narratives to simplistic and often derogatory depictions.
John Amos’ departure from the original series due to creative differences with Norman Lear and the writing staff is a crucial aspect that should not be overlooked. Amos, who portrayed James Evans, was vocal about his dissatisfaction with the direction of the show, particularly the portrayal of his character’s son, J.J. Evans, played by Jimmie Walker. Amos and co-star Esther Rolle, who played Florida Evans, voiced concerns about the show’s shift towards comedic antics over addressing serious issues within the Black community.
The departure of key creative voices in the reboot like original co-creator Carl Jones, who cited creative differences, further emphasizes the disconnect between the reboot and its intended audience. When creators clash over the direction of a show, it often reflects broader debates about representation and storytelling integrity. ‘Good Times’ missed an opportunity to engage with modern audiences on a deeper level and challenge prevailing stereotypes.
I believe it’s crucial to be critical of shows that fail to accurately represent our experiences. While humor and irreverence can be powerful tools in storytelling, they should not come at the expense of authenticity or dignity. ‘Good Times’ had the potential to take a nuanced approach, exploring generational challenges, systemic inequalities, and the resilience of families like the Evans.
Rather ‘Good Times’ fell into the trap of oversimplification, painting a picture of generational stagnation in poverty-stricken areas. This narrative suggests a backward slide over time, epitomized by JB Smoove’s rendition of James Evans. Characters like the drug-dealing baby, the lethargic father profiting from gun violence, the hypersexualized depiction of the wife for attention over a dog, and the portrayal of the son as unintelligent all contribute to reinforcing damaging stereotypes about Black experiences. This approach neglects the intricate tapestry and diversity that exist within our communities.
It’s crucial to acknowledge that my critique of “Good Times” is not a dismissal of the talent involved or the efforts made. The voice cast, including talents like Yvette Nicole Brown, Jay Pharoah, Marsai Martin, Slink Johnson, and Rashida “Sheedz” Olayiwola, brings considerable talent to the project. However, talent alone cannot compensate for a flawed creative direction and a lack of understanding of the nuances of Black experiences.
The disappointment with ‘Good Times’ extends beyond mere entertainment value. It reflects broader industry dynamics and persistent challenges in authentically representing Black experiences. As viewers, we deserve stories that inspire, challenge, and celebrate our shared humanity without falling back on outdated tropes or stereotypes.
It’s essential to highlight that my critique of ‘Good Times’ is a call for the industry to do better—to push boundaries, challenge stereotypes, and elevate narratives that reflect the richness and diversity of Black communities. And as Black creators if you have the opportunity to be in the rooms that make decisions, be the voice of accurate representation even through humor.
‘Good Times’ may find an audience among some viewers, its inability to evolve with the times and address contemporary issues in a nuanced manner is a disservice to both its legacy and the Black community it aims to represent. The reboot serves as a reminder of the ongoing work needed to ensure that our stories are told accurately.