Leading the way: how Cheer became a Netflix megahit
February 20, 2020The docuseries, following a competitive cheer squad, has become an unlikely smash gaining A-list fans and an endless trove of memes
Its nearly impossible, if you have been on the internet in the past couple weeks, to miss the sprawl of fame that is Cheer, the Netflix docuseries following the nations best junior college competitive cheer squad, Navarro College, as they train for the 2019 national championships in Daytona. Netflix, notoriously stingy on its figures, hasnt released official viewership data on the series, but since its premiere in December, it has generated an avalanche of self-generating hype and content. It has led to enthralled thinkpieces, pieces on the pieces to read about Cheer and a cache of memes. Its cast members have appeared on the Today show and the Ellen DeGeneres Show, in virality-designed videos faux-casting the movies, front row at a New York fashion week show. Jerry Harris, a breakout star from the the show anointed a human sunbeam by the New Yorker, worked the Oscars red carpet for Ellen and was fawned over by Cheer fans including Greta Gerwig, Laura Dern, Rebel Wilson, Billie Eilish and Kathy Bates, producing one of the weeks most joyous videos on the internet.
The six-hour docuseries, filmed during the three-month run-up to the 2019 national championships, might seem like an odd show to find a massive audience. The sport of competitive cheerleading is small, and greatly overshadowed by the cultural archetype of the high schooler with pom-poms. The vast majority of Americans have never heard of Navarro, a two-year junior college, or its town of Corsicana, about 30 miles south of Dallas. So how did Cheer become the most talked-about TV show of the moment?
Credit is partly due to the series technical brilliance. Directed by Greg Whiteley (creator of Last Chance U, another series about the under-studied stakes of junior college athletics), Cheer closely observes, with at times sickening proximity, the brutal music of the sport the slap of skin smacking skin, brisk cushion of a basket catch, horrifying thud of a maneuver gone awry. Whiteley lingers on the toll of attempting near-impossible group gymnastics, and the mesmerizing work of practice when the stunts work, its thrilling; one misstep is your teammates concussion or broken bone. And the stakes are deceptively high the team practices for one, and only one, two-minute-and-15-second performance at nationals.
Those stakes carry off-mat, too many of Navarros athletes have turned to the sport, and coach Monica Aldama, to provide structure and meaning where their upbringings did not. Harris, a full-bodied, vibrant black man from Chicago who grew up partly in motels and friends houses, uses enlivening mat talk cheers from the sidelines to cope with the pain of losing his mother in high school. Lexi Brumback, a star tumbler, credits cheer for keeping her out of jail. Cheer thus deepens and inverts an archetype so cliched and steeped in Americana its practically baked into the national apple pie: taut-bodied, pretty and popular girls, almost always white, necessarily affluent.
The show also offers a mesmerizing blend of genres the cinma vrit that bleeds off-screen (characters are also real people you can follow on social media; the story never ends if you keep paying attention) of reality television (especially portals into intense and insular worlds such as Dance Moms) and the emotional pathos of finely observed dramatic television (the show is basically Friday Night Lights but starring women and gay men, with a female coach).
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