TYLER PERRY'S 'SHE THE PEOPLE' ISN'T COMPLETELY USELESS. NOT COMPLETELY.

Tyler Perry’s She the People is a chaotic, often ridiculous, political comedy that’s honestly hard to pin down. The series stars Terri J. Vaughn (best known for The Steve Harvey Show) as Antoinette Dunkerson, a strong, ambitious gubernatorial candidate turned Mississippi’s first Black lieutenant governor, and the show takes us through her whirlwind of a political career, her family dynamics, and the ridiculousness that comes with navigating a predominantly white political world. It's everything you'd expect from a Perry joint, but—to my surprise—not totally devoid of substance. Hear me out.

*MILD SPOILERS FOR 'SHE THE PEOPLE' FROM THIS POINT*

See You at the Poles

Fresh off the heels of (melo)dramas Beauty in Black (also on Netflix) and Duplicity, Tyler Perry returns to his comedy roots with part one of a two part, sixteen episode series. Perry's bread and butter comes from comedy, both on the stage and on the big screen, most notably with his long standing character Madea. But, when it comes to comedy, the guy isn't exactly in the business of writing cutting satire. He deals in broad comedy, more often than not, and tends to apply that broadness to situations that might not need it.

But She the People, a comedic take on a Black woman making her way in the cut-throat world of white, male politics, has its moments. Antoinette realizes a life long dream when she gets elected as the Lieutenant Governor. But, also realizes, quickly, it’s just the start of an uphill battle. She’s an experienced politician with a good career and appears to have it all in order, but once in office, Antoinette has to figure out how to walk an impossible political line both while still getting at least some of her agenda through, and also while dealing with divorce and raising two kids.

True, the show stays more in feel-good family sitcom mode than it does searing political wittiness—a la Veep—and Antoinette comes across a little naïve for a Harvard Law graduate and community organizer, but her tenuous position is still a strong, original premise for a political series.

So let’s talk about the politics of the show, because this is where She the People actually does something interesting. Mississippi is one of 18 states where the governor and lieutenant governor are elected separately, which means they can come from different parties. That election quirk makes for a fascinating set-up. Antoinette is a Democrat who was elected by the predominantly Black population in Jackson, while Governor Harper (played by Robert Craighead) is a smarmy “Good ol’ boy” Republican with a white rural base.

The tension between the two is ripe for drama. And while the show often veers, and some of the jokes fall flat, the underlying conflict is there, if not glaringly obvious. Those elements are what generate the occasional intrigue and make the show worth watching.

You Just Be a Good Girl, Alright

At its core, She the People is about Antoinette finding her voice as a Black woman in politics. She’s smart, capable, and has the drive to make a real impact. She’s also dealing with a scandal involving her daughter, a pool party, and a slap that goes viral, which throws her life into chaos.

While the first couple of episodes follow a predictable path—Antoinette trying to balance her family life and career, while dealing with the usual office drama—the show finds its footing by episode three, when Antoinette and her family move into the lieutenant governor’s mansion (which may or may not be a literal plantation). Here, the show starts leaning into its absurdity, and it’s in these over-the-top moments where it's potential shows. From the Confederate flag rug and throw pillows to a butler who seems like he stepped out of the 1800s, it’s an absurdist riff on the horrors of how Southern America “honors” its history.

But, of course, in true Tyler Perry fashion, there’s no nuance or break from the insanity. Every situation is as extreme as it can possibly be and that doesn’t leave any room for breathing. The problem isn’t that Perry constantly throws these characters for a loop, but that everything is so over the top that it makes you lose your faith in the point. One slavery joke is funny. One slavery joke per minute is exhausting.

The Governor is racist, but racist is all he is. He not only sidelines Antoinette but makes it clear she’s going to have to struggle at this state house. However, what could've been mined for some really interesting satire is obscured by the governor’s Foghorn Leghorn accent and his insistence on calling Antoinette “Nettie”. That's a The Color Purple reference, for those not in the know.

Much of the time the show is silly. But there's an element to the series, namely the inner turmoils of Antoinette, that fight to poke through all the silliness. Terri J. Vaughn—hands-down the highlight of the show—brings charm, toughness, and Leslie Knope-esque unbridled optimism to Antoinette. She manages to make the character ring true even when the writing isn’t cooperating. We watch her stumble, second-guess herself, and slowly stand her ground. And when you cut through the noise, you realize it's a show not about a woman finding her power, but realizing she already has it.

Antoinette is essentially hired as window dressing—a Black woman in a high office, but with no real power. She has to fight to be heard, and we see the weight of that battle, even if it’s often buried under layers of exaggerated jokes. Underneath the madness, though, the show does try to tackle some important themes, like systemic racism, political gatekeeping, and tokenism. And though She the People doesn’t always have the space to fully unpack these issues, there’s something real about watching Antoinette gain the courage to fight for the place she's earned.

Vaughn is a TV veteran and it shows. She provides a steady hand at the wheel of this kooky ride, and she makes Antoinette earnest and intelligent, yet relatably overwhelmed, too—whether she’s trying to reign in the two teenagers she shares with her ex-husband or her own mother or pumping herself up by reciting the lyrics to Whitney Houston’s “I’m Every Woman.”

Imma Need Some Dinner and a Lot of Wine

She the People isn't biting political commentary. But it’s also not trying to be—it’s playing in a completely different sandbox. Like most Perry creations, it brings a chaotic energy only Perry seems to be capable of. (Divorce in the Black opens with a dead body being removed from a casket and carried out of a church, sans casket, in the middle of a funeral, after all.) And while it’s a bit uneven, it still manages to deliver a few moments of real insight. As a Black woman who found out two years into a role that I was essentially hired to fill out a "new black hires pie chart" (paraphrasing), I can confirm that knowing that your position is strictly ornamental can be an extremely depowering experience. And She the People is its most impactful when tracking Antoinette's journey from depowerment to empowerment to full power. She is every woman.

Perry and co-creator Niya Palmer seem to be trying to appeal to as many comedic sensibilities as possible at once. But the show is at its funniest when it’s zeroing in on the lengths Antoinette has to go to survive (and thrive) in her new environment.

There’s a general sense that the show wants to continue to grow and evolve, both comedically and dramatically. But we'll have to wait and see if it succeeds as it moves into its second term later this summer.

2.5/5 ★: Struggles to find its voice, but not without one entirely.