One of the freshest, most consistently entertaining original comedy series in recent memory has arrived—so of course it’s not American-made (and it’s not animated either!). While there have been a few decent new entries into the comedy genre stateside, most of them suffer from the same recurring problem: the need to appeal to the wide range of demographics and comedic tastes across the country at once, if they want to survive. Few can do this successfully, which is why it’s an outright miracle that a network sitcom like Abbott Elementary has become a hit. It’s also why It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia just wrapped Season 89: Too often, American execs are happy to let things spin until the wheels fall off, instead of giving a fair shake to new voices.
Dreaming Whilst Black, which premieres Sept. 8 on Showtime, is far and away the best new comedy of 2023. The show is a British import, having aired on BBC Three earlier this summer to raves. It’s not hard to see why, either: Dreaming Whilst Black livens up a fairly standard outline for a comedy series with an ensemble of outstanding performances, biting social satire, and a keen sense of its own identity that makes for one of the most rewarding watches of the year.
Kwabena (Adjani Salmon) is the dreamer in question, longing for a life on film sets instead of his day job in recruitment at a temp agency. He envisions himself finally breaking into the industry, hobnobbing with fellow artists, and eventually directing his passion project, Jamaica Road, a film inspired by his grandparents’ love story. These aspirations are mired by his dead-end occupation, which has kept Kwabena stagnant but comfortable. Well, at least as comfortable as you can be while wading through a deluge of office micro- and macroaggressions every single day.
The series routinely finds smart new ways to depict the “well-meaning” (read: racist) comments that Kwabena and his friends receive from their coworkers. Remarks from colleagues about his lunch being too “fragrant” for the main office might feel somewhat obvious, until Kwabena retreats to the kitchen to find the office’s only other person of color—previously unseen until this moment—seated at the table, ready to exchange a knowing look, as if she’s just taken to working from the kitchen entirely. But even these amusing spins on the more standard satire are somewhat infrequent. Instead, the show mines most of its punchlines from character and situation-driven comedy, plopping a few lowball laughs into each episode without feeling like it’s trying to make itself palatable to white audiences.
Dreaming Whilst Black’s humor isn’t just uniquely British—dry and cutting, reminiscent of recent greats like Fleabag and Chewing Gum—but it also feels specific to Salmon, who co-created the series and co-wrote each of the first season’s six episodes. He’s a fount of charisma, with a perfectly expressionistic face that any casting director would do well to write a blank check for as soon as possible. Salmon is a joy to watch, but it’s his innate chemistry with the series’ ensemble that really makes Dreaming Whilst Black come alive.
Kwabena’s roommates/best friends Maurice (Demmy Ladipo) and Funmi (Rachel Adedeji), a couple expecting their first child, create a terrific emotional baseline for the show. Funmi and Maurice’s plotline deftly weaves a necessary amount of sincerity into the series’ nonstop comedy, giving just enough time for viewers to catch their breath, especially toward the middle of the season. Kwabena’s friend Amy (Dani Moseley), a similarly beleaguered aspiring film producer in a rut as the only Black person at her production company, is a hilarious foil to Kwabena’s apprehension, always encouraging him with plenty of honesty (while possibly providing a future romantic option for Kwabs, as well). And then there’s Vanessa (Babirye Bukilwa), Kwabena’s girlfriend, whom he meets after chasing down a bus to rescue her wig, which gets caught in the vehicle’s closing doors.
Each one of these characters is a three-dimensional being, existing in their own lives just as much as they are in Kwabena’s. Not one member of the principal cast feels out of place or underwritten, and that’s part of what makes Dreaming Whilst Black so wonderful. There is not a single moment in the first season where audiences will wish that, instead of one of his friends, they could just be watching Kwabena. Writing decent supporting characters might sound like an easy task, but recent evidence has shown us that it’s a dying art, one which Dreaming Whilst Black happily revives.
Of course, there are some gloriously funny tertiary roles too, like Funmi’s Auntie Lola (Kemi Lofinmakin), who steals every single scene that she’s in with a full-bodied hilarity. The second episode’s plot revolves around Aunty Lola’s 60th birthday (or her Diamond Jubilee, as she prefers it to be called). She wants the party to be spectacular, over the top, and a celebration of her Nigerian heritage, and she’s unwilling to compromise. But if Kwabena can make her accompanying birthday film exactly as she wants, she’ll be happy to fund Jamaica Road. Naturally, things go outrageously awry, and Kwabena ends up back at square one—but not without the series bringing another excellent recurring character into the mix as compensation.
Kwabena’s misadventures unfold so naturally that it’s almost easy to overlook how great the show is at landing its satire. Nothing here feels too heavy-handed or artificial. This isn’t a surrealist parody of Black life, nor are there any caricatures among the cast. Dreaming Whilst Black is sardonic, yes, but its earnest examination of how the difficulties of getting a leg up as a Black person in the film industry is finely tuned. Kwabena’s efforts are rewarded, but he must first decide how much of himself he’s willing to compromise to achieve those dreams. For him, it’s about finding a path between his history and his future, a place where he can easily glance forward and backward to create something new.
Successfully reaching that middle ground is far more simple in theory than in practice for Kwabena, but so is creating a comedy that can achieve that kind of resonance without sacrificing its humor. Although Dreaming Whilst Black makes it look uncomplicated, it was no doubt an undertaking as difficult as what Kwabena himself aspires to in the show. The good news is that the series is a bonafide hit in the U.K., but there’s always a new step to climb. The next will be getting American audiences to fall in love with it, and if they have any sense, Dreaming Whilst Black will become the latest glimmering British gem in a sea of sameness.
