In a time defined by illness, isolation, and depression — both emotional and economical — the warm glow of the television screen has never been more comforting. The COVID-19 pandemic has destroyed everything in its path, leaving us in a homebound lurch with nothing but our creature comforts to console us. Thankfully, amid all of the loss and uncertainty of 2020, there has been a myriad of excellent television to watch in between news cycles and panic attacks. There were evocative, visceral shows like I May Destroy You, Unorthodox, and Normal People to break your heart, fill it with hope, and break it again. Shows like The Great, Hunters, and Lovecraft Country transformed historical narratives into absurdist, fantastical treasures capable of both delight and fright. Whether we binged heavily or paced ourselves, our cups runneth over with new content that could distract, numb, and absolve us of our pain, if only for half an hour.
After my sister and I had to move back home with our parents, we became reacquainted with the fact that all four of us had supremely different tastes in viewing pleasures. At the end of a tiresome, often catastrophic day spent apart in each of our respective rooms, we all instinctively gathered around the television, desperate to detach from our disheveled day-to-days. And rather than engaging in lengthy celluloid discourse to decide what to watch, we opted for senseless, soothing television — usually in the form of Reno 911!, a show we discovered about 15 years too late. Even still, watching the follies and frivolity of inane police officers brought all of us joy, and a special sort of gratification during a time when real-life police officers are under such deserved scrutiny. And yet, something was missing.
That is, until August 9, 2020, when YOLO: Crystal Fantasy came into our lives. While this show features the usual brand of incongruous, oddball humor that only Adult Swim can offer, there is an added element of tangible realism to this show. Rachel and Sarah of Wollongong, Australia, are our two protagonists — always searching for a good time, but forever followed by the peculiar happenings that could only take place in the mystic land down under. YOLO: Crystal Fantasy is not deep, existential, or profound, and yet in each 15-minute episode, there is an instantaneous friendliness — one that could crack even my rational, unperturbed father. Among its ridiculous characters, creatures, and crystals, there are believable elements to this cartoon: a predatory but fragile fedora-wearing incel who lusts after what he can’t have, a loving father who just wants to show his daughter articles that would be right up her alley, and most importantly, a female friendship that can overcome it all — including, but not limited to, interplanetary travel and drunken fights.
YOLO: Crystal Fantasy resides at the intersection of bizarre humor and girlish cognizance — a confluence of unlovely circumstances and feminine wisdom the likes of which I have never seen. What I love most about Rachel and Sarah is the fact that they are rightfully, brilliantly, gross. Even in comedy, a genre marked by its cretinous ferocity, women are often positioned as props, nags, or voices of reason. Only within shows like Bob’s Burgers, PEN15, and Fleabag could one see the unsightly but hilarious powers of femininity, until YOLO: Crystal Fantasy came along. It’s refreshing, not to mention realistic, to see women behave as freely and foolishly as they can while they navigate the complications of their young adulthood.
Sarah is distinguished by her big heart and kind naivety, whereas Rachel is characterized by her less-than-ladylike habits — spitting on the ground, sleeping in a mud pit — and her incessant need to party. And while this kind of blunt, disgusting humor isn’t for everyone, YOLO: Crystal Fantasy is undeniably unique in its approach to female storytelling. Rachel’s vile tendencies are more than just humorous, they’re implemented in quite interesting, potentially lifelike ways — as in episode two, when the girls hitch a ride in a sketchy van that can only be headed toward their eventual assault or demise, but are ultimately saved by Rachel’s repulsiveness as her sweating and vomiting suddenly make them off-putting to the driver. It is of course odd how the unsavory is utilized here, but it is also incredibly innovative.
This kind of characterization is also typically coded as exclusively masculine, as if beastly behavior belongs only to men. Even in the raunchiest of comedic narratives, women are often reduced to calm, polite, put-together figures, leaving any unpalatable qualities off-screen. But within the wild weird world of YOLO: Crystal Fantasy, women are not only permitted to be just as crass as men, their vulgarity comes naturally and never seems out of place. Michael Cusack, the creator of the show and the voice of Rachel, does not trivialize femininity, nor does he create shallow caricatures of women. Somehow, he perfectly captures the nuanced relationships and conversations among women of the twenty-first century, a feat not achieved since a show like Broad City. The vapid nature of these characters is not offensive or excessive, it is incredibly pertinent. When Rachel is scaling a tower for a chance to get a selfie with Instagram it-girl Maddison, only to watch other climbers fall to their death, all she can say is “Cringe…” It is an instance of misplaced embarrassment during a moment of legitimate danger, a hilarious disposition that is displayed frequently throughout the show, and one that seems apt for the truly strange and unpredictable nature of 2020. When the world around you is crumbling, and every sense of normalcy you took for granted vanishes, what’s left to do but laugh through the suffering, and take stock of what treasures you have left.
True, though sometimes toxic, friendships like Rachel and Sarah’s can exist even in the treacherous town of Wollongong, even in the inexplicable reality we are currently experiencing as we watch them on TV. YOLO: Crystal Fantasy effortlessly showcases the power of divine feminine energy despite the creeps and the monsters and the negative vibes, despite existing in a cruel landscape that relies so heavily on the telegenic funny girl: e.g. the girls of New Girl, The Big Bang Theory, and Two Broke Girls. These women, while they are permitted to be funny, are not so much uproariously hilarious as they are reasonably humorous. They are the reverse- Kramer. They function as rational, mildly funny, reliably dull characters that recognize and eventually condemn the nonsense surrounding them — a space of nonsense typically occupied by men. These female characters are not without agency or intrigue, they just aren’t all that real. Their one-dimension doesn’t call for realism, nor does it allow for uniqueness or memorability. No one, and I mean no one talks about how funny Penny of The Big Bang Theory is. But Elaine? I don’t even have to tell you what show she’s a part of for you to know who she is. That is the impact of a well-written character, which is a signifier of a good TV show.
It may sound silly, to uphold comedic television shows, especially animated ones, to such high standards, but I do! There is a plethora of brilliant animated comedies that have made this kind of cartoon snobbery possible, and it would be an insult to their creators if we didn’t take them into consideration when viewing new entries to the zeitgeist. Through the triumphs and the pitfalls, the spitting and the swearing, I believe that YOLO: Crystal Fantasy is worthy of a spot in the Best of 2020 — in spite of the fact that 2020 may have lowered the entertainment bar for some. For me, the bar has only been raised higher, and in a year like 2020, I had no room for content that didn’t make me feel something. There is just something so specifically, so unfathomably funny and familiar about YOLO: Crystal Fantasy, and the ways in which Rachel and Sarah must navigate each scrappy misadventure that comes their way. It is gloriously, confusingly funny, and just when I thought I had the whole series figured out, the final two episodes introduced an element of poignancy that made me love it even more. Without giving too much away, I’ll just say that Rachel and Sarah’s friendship faces the ultimate test, and miraculously, they find their way back to each other after being separated by time and space.
YOLO: Crystal Fantasy makes me long for the days of partying with my own girlfriends, of drinking out of pleasure not necessity; it makes the void of nightlife in the time of COVID seem ever larger and longer, and yet, it gives me hope. The perseverance of Sarah and Rachel is inspiring for any friends that may have drifted during this time of forced isolation, and their ceaseless journey for rapturous self-fulfillment is something that I admire about real-life women as well. We’re complicated creatures, often mystified and idealized and editorialized upon endlessly by men, but we’re also a bit like Rachel and Sarah. Hopeful, flawed, sincere, ridiculous, gross, resilient, messy, driven, kind. And while we may not all be searching for the next party, we are certainly searching for something to occupy our minds during this challenging time. I implore you to stop overthinking, to stop trying to rationalize the barbaric joke that is 2020, and to instead kick back and watch a show like YOLO: Crystal Fantasy — one that does not ask much of you, except: wanna party?
