The last time audiences were treated to the vibrant, absurdist, and anti-capitalist world-building of Boots Riley, it was his 2018 critically acclaimed satire Sorry to Bother You. That delightly outrageous (albeit flawed) film found LaKeith Stanfield using an uncanny “white voice” to climb the corporate ladder, encountering greedy overlords, and trying to escape Armie Hammer, before being turned into a horse.
Sorry to Bother You may have left you with an adrenaline kick—and maybe a desire to go on strike—but Riley ups the ante with his new Prime Video series, I’m a Virgo, premiering June 23.
Aside from the novelty of its whimsical and thoroughly weird plot, I’m a Virgo marks Riley’s first venture into the television space and actor Jharrel Jerome’s long-awaited return to the medium as a series regular, since his Emmy-winning role in Ava Duvernay’s Netflix miniseries, When They See Us. Both live up to the expectations that fans of their work have retained in the waiting period since their last projects. Jerome, especially, uncovers new layers to his abilities as an already impressive actor. While the 25-year-old has proven that he can break our hearts, both in When They See Us and his cinematic debut in Moonlight, he’s also capable of delivering the kind of awkward, nerdy comedy of a Michael Cera- or Jesse Eisenberg-type.
We’re first introduced to Jerome’s Cootie as a very big baby under the care of his over—maybe appropriately—protective, socially conscious aunt and uncle, Lafrancine (Carmen Ejogo) and Martisse (Mike Epps). By the time he’s 19 years old, he’s a 13-foot-tall giant, ravaging his guardians’ Oakland home with the slightest maneuvers. He’s also become locally known as the “Twamp Monster.”
Due to his caretakers sheltering him, he has little concept of the outside world, save for a comic book author-turned-vigilante superhero (read: villain) named Jay Whittle (Walter Goggins), who terrorizes Oakland in a cheap Iron Man suit and goes by “The Hero.” Cootie’s also transfixed by distinctly horny commercials for the fast-food joint Bing Bang Burger, which he’s dying to try but his father deems to be “poison.”
Eventually, Lafrancine and Martisse build Cootie a giant shack in their backyard that can house his enormous body. During a casual chat with a neighbor through a fence, he learns that his no-nonsense dad has formally been an avid patron of Bing Bang Burger, leading Cootie to question everything he’s been told about the dangers of society. As a result, he ends up fleeing his home. From there, he encounters a group of politically active (and very funny) young people (Brett Gray, Kara Young and Allius Barnes), who take interest in him. Together, they embark upon a series of misadventures and even some tragic moments amongst his new clique.
While the show keeps an eye on Cootie and his fish-out-of-water experiences, including his blossoming romance with a Bing Bang Burger employee named Flora (Olivia Washington), I’m a Virgo also also takes us on a few narrative excursions. Sometimes, the show drops viewers right in the center of Oakland’s housing crisis and introduces us to a community of shrunken people. What would normally be minor plot points on other scripted shows are turned into long-running gags and expanded into entire episodes. One episode spends a weirdly long amount of time with Cootie and Flora, a normal-sized woman with Flash-like super speed, as they awkwardly try to fornicate. Somehow, though, nothing on this bizarre show feels like a waste of screen time because the comedy is so on point.
Likewise, I’m a Virgo becomes increasingly chaotic and scattershot over the course of seven episodes. Akin to the twists and turns in Sorry to Bother You, when you feel like you understand the show’s intent, it takes you in a completely different—usually silly but still somehow smart—direction. The series feels more aptly described as a live-action comic strip or a series of hilarious and bizarre vignettes—including a creepy, seemingly nefarious cartoon that Cootie’s new friend Scat is obsessed with—than a serialized character study. Given that the show incorporates actual comic book elements, its fusing of genres and unique structure feels intentional. Most of the time, it works.
I’m a Virgo is ultimately a mishmash of hilarious gags and radical messages that don’t really coalesce into one outstanding statement, but they work as compelling, sharp comedy anyway. Riley manages to turn the everyday anxieties of being a Black man in America, constantly under siege, into a satirical farce with powerful, moving insights. Given how easily dissected and recappable a lot of streaming shows are these days, the show’s messiness and Riley’s wild imagination are a surprisingly strange delight.
