HBO Max's "Rap Sh!t" Gives Us a Mean Soundtrack, Legit Sex-Positivity and a Progressive Look at American Blackness

By #AndradeSays Archives
Cover image for  article: HBO Max's "Rap Sh!t" Gives Us a Mean Soundtrack, Legit Sex-Positivity and a Progressive Look at American Blackness

The HBO Max comedy Rap Sh!t may not be the first show about a number of women seeking fame and fortune in the music industry (see: Star, Queens, Girls5Eva), but it's definitely one of the realest. Created, written and executive produced by the Issa Rae, Rap Sh!t follows two young women from Florida on their journey to get more than what life has offered them … by becoming a rap duo. Steeped in Millennial hood vernacular, underscored by a playlist of legitimate bangers, and armed with the freedom that being on a premium cable channel/streaming service allows, this Max Original gives us a pretty authentic-feeling look at the culture as it exists just outside Miami, and the various grinds of the people that live there.

Starring Aida Osman (who's also an executive story editor/writer on the show), Rap Sh!t follows Shawna, an aspiring artist whose main focus is conscious rap -- a style that prioritizes thought-provoking lyrics and messages over the trendier, more shallow aspects of the mainstream, like cars, money, and ass. In the meantime, she works the lobby desk at a Miami hotel. Eventually, she ends up linking with an old high school friend, Mia (played by rapper/singer/songwriter and Love and Hip Hop: Miami Season 3 alumna KaMillion), who is a single mother working several jobs to take care of her daughter, and after a night of hanging out and realizing that they both want and deserve more than the hood's been offering them, they decide to be a rap duo, and drop a freestyling video on social media. It blows up locally, and the two are convinced that between Shawna's talent as a lyricist and Mia's ear for what the streets want to hear -- not to mention the built-in following she has from her Onlyfans account -- that they have a legitimate chance of successfully capitalizing on the momentum they have.

One of the first things I appreciated about this series (besides the social media overlay-infused aesthetic of it all, which I'll get to) was the conversation it has about how female rap artists are viewed in the industry. A name or two is dropped, specifically those of Nicki Minaj and Lil Kim, and some interesting points are made. Shawna is of the opinion that female rappers often play the role of side chick, second fiddle, or walking prop to a male rapper, and are often tossed aside when they're no longer useful. She also calls out female rappers who have male ghostwriters instead of writing their own lyrics, and how those lyrics, once sexualized in any way, are usually no longer really being heard at all, as the female artist is being written off. Again, all valid points.

Mia, on the other hand, while still being able to see Shawna's point, also points out that artists like Kim and Nicki are more a woman's fantasy than that of a man. They assert their dominance in a way that embraces their sexuality; not for "the male gaze" as Shawna puts it, but in celebration of themselves. That's what being a "bad bitch" is all about. According to Mia, "We in the middle of a bad bitch renaissance." When looking at the abundance of quality female rappers in the game right now, especially considering their numbers in the Nineties, for example, I'd have to say that I agree.

Beyond all that, a lot of the choices made by the cast and crew of this series work for me. Visually, this show takes advantage of pretty much every opportunity it gets to remind us how inundated our day-to-day lives are with social media. Almost every character is either live streaming, scrolling through someone's else's feed, or recording the situation in order to post about it later (though we see those recordings in real time). All the overlays are pretty accurate to the apps they're portraying, and from time to time they even add visual gags to the plot. For example, in episode four (arguably the funniest episode so far), a friend, Nelly (DomiNque Perry), records the girls during a drug-filled night on the town, and, besides her hilarious commentary, keeps putting ridiculous Snapchat filters on their faces, like huge eyes, and the one that turns your face into that of a horse.

Other elements lend a lot of credence to the series as well, like the fact that such guest stars as Sam Sneak and DJ Dimples are real people, or how Caresha and JT of the real-life rap duo City Girls are co-executive producers of the show. It kind of explains why Shawna and Mia give City Girl-vibes when they spit together. Let's not forget how Issa Rae's character used to freestyle in the mirror on Insecure, either, especially because Shawna seems to summon that same energy when we hear her rap the first couple times.

Rap Sh!t definitely comes into its own, but that doesn't mean I don't feel the Insecure of it all beneath the surface. We've got a series filled with a realistic amount of adult language and nudity that follows a pair of female friends who live different aspects of the Black experience in a less publicized city outside of a major city in a major state. Also, the men in their lives could probably be a bit better, though this really isn't about them. Factor in a mean soundtrack, and an overall cinematic look (outside of the phone stuff), a lot of sex-positivity, and a progressive look at American Blackness, and you've got all the basic parameters of an Issa Rae production.

Sure, to date all we currently have to go on besides Rapitself are Insecure and Sweet Life: L.A.,but that's great company to be in no matter how you slice it.

Rap Sh!t is streaming on HBO Max.

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