American Vandal (2017-2018) Season One Review

An ordinary Oceanside, California high school, descends into chaos when, on a day like any other, an act of vandalism causes turmoil when it is discovered that 27 of the teachers' cars have been spray-painted with images of cartoonish penises. Only one student is accused of the crime, Dylan Maxwell (Jimmy Tatro). "American Vandal" aims to determine if Dylan was truly the mastermind or whether he is being punished for his past class clown antics.

As an original Netflix true-crime docuseries satire, told from the lens of a high school student. Small comic touches are planted through the series to remind the audience it is a show-within-a-show. The opening credits of the series’ show-within-a-show hides one of the best jokes in the whole series. One of the listed executive producers, "Mr. Baxter", is a teacher at the school, a very simple but brilliant joke. The series is almost too good to be true because of its total dedication to the joke. American Vandal is the purest form of devoted recreation, a meticulously scripted reference to true crime pop culture heavyweights. As a result, it became just as compelling and interesting as the true-crime docuseries they aimed to pay homage to.

The show's fictional documentarians, Peter Maldonado (Tyler Alvarez) and his partner Sam (Griffin Gluck), are much more than normal high school students. They are also products of the recent true crime docuseries rise in pop culture. Name an on-screen trope and you’ll find it here: an animated timeline of events, a hierarchical flowchart of the high school's leadership structure and even a shot of a cassette tape being played, (There's also a hilariously explicit 3-D visualization of a character's witness testimony that's clearly done by high school students.) It is incredibly clear what is the inspiration for the series. All of these components are very similar to what shows like The Jinx: The Life and Deaths of Robert Durst (2015) or Making a Murderer (2015) do in their respective series.

At first glance, the premise seems to be incredibly immature and crude; it immediately brings to mind Judd Apatow and Seth Rogen's excellent but controversial comedies. However, the show does not rely on the potentially restricting premise; the show may be based around images of penises, but American Vandal deserves credit for being perhaps one of the most subtly brilliant shows of the last decade. From the first episode, the audience will think they are in for an over-the-top, boorish comedy with constant laughs, but by the last episode in the series, they will realize that American Vandal is a fascinating crime story, perfectly timed and executed humour that hits when your defences are at their weakest. American Vandal, in typical Netflix fashion, is addictive and deserves its place among the streaming service's famous binge-worthy content.

Even though the show does not depend on the performances, they are consistently fantastic. Alvarez, Gluck, and Tatro lead the Netflix show, but Tatro steals the show. He is given the most to do, but he responds magnificently. Tatro doubles down on his near-scene-stealing shenanigans in 22 Jump Street (2014), stepping into the starring role of the foolish but charming Dylan. Alvarez and Gluck have great chemistry, as does Tatro with his friends, the "Way Back Boys"; they convey the spirit of adolescence beautifully. But it's the characterisation that really enhances the performances; throughout the show, it continues to build and evolve everybody connected to the case in subtle ways; American Vandal has a vast array of things to cover but manages to do it very effectively. Dan Perrault and Tony Yacenda's transition to high-profile TV is flawless for a pair of writers best known for their work on internet shows such as Funny or Die (2010-).

The show's millennial presence is obvious, but it does not come to the forefront, preventing a possibly cringe-worthy final product, nor does it ruthlessly berate it; American Vandal perfectly captures the modern-day adolescent culture and utilizes it to progress the plot and develop its characters. There were many expectations for the show, but it managed to dismantle all of them. It has a remarkable amount of heart and complexity, particularly as the show begins to discuss the ramifications of the documentary on those involved. Again, the teenage atmosphere is perfectly implemented; how far will teenagers go to keep their secrets hidden? Do people judge teens at first glance more than they do with any other age group? How easy is it for their generation to lie and hide the truth?

American Vandal is a satire, not a parody; it doesn't make fun of the world's newfound obsession with true crime, but rather highlights it and revamps it into a funnier, but equally fascinating version of it. It is a show that floats in a sea of boring and lazy shows. It is everything you could want in a series: comedy, drama, a captivating story, great acting and a mystery. It is an extraordinary show, and it is about time that American Vandal gets the attention it deserves.