Schitt’s Creek features an ensemble cast of some of the most well-known names in Canadian media, including father-son duo Dan and Eugene Levy, and Catherine O’Hara. It follows the Rose family, down-on-their-luck former millionaires, who are stranded in a town originally bought by Eugene Levy’s character Johnny Rose as a joke. The Rose family camps out in a roadside motel, but manages to hang onto extensive designer wardrobes (including over a hundred wigs created for Catherine O’Hara’s Moira Rose), which makes them stick out like sore thumbs in rural Schitt’s Creek (named after the town mayor, Roland Schitt’s family).
This premise, taken on its own, is understandably off-putting; it invites concerns that Schitt’s Creek will be another, uninspired show that uses classism to make cheap jokes about uneducated “bumpkins” who can’t grasp the sophistication of their wealthier counterparts. However, Schitt’s Creek manages to turn this trope on its head. It’s not about rich people ‘fixing’ the town they find themselves living in, but learning how to be better people through forming meaningful and unexpected relationships.
Schitt’s Creek is a ‘wholesome’ brand of humour, one that represents a move away from the derogative, often offensive comedy in earlier offerings like The Office (does anyone else remember the episode “Gay Witch Hunt”?). Notably, it offers a refreshingly nuanced and compassionate approach to LGBTQ+ relationships, including a powerful episode that addresses a character coming out to their family. Schitt’s Creek never draws on the what-if-ness that often seems inherent to this premise. There is never an instant where Dan Levy, who wrote the episode, leads the audience to think that the character will be met with anything less than unconditional acceptance from their friends and family, which is rare in LGBTQ+ stories in popular media. This careful, sensitive approach underlies the show as a whole: at its core, Schitt’s Creek focuses its message on the value of humility and kindness.
Because of its ‘wholesomeness’, it’s unsurprising that Schitt’s Creek has been compared to more recent Michael Schur shows, like Parks and Recreation or The Good Place. Schitt’s Creek manages to land somewhere in between these two wildly popular offerings; it is nowhere near as introspective or message-driven as The Good Place, but there is an episodic through-line that feels less disjointed than the earlier seasons of Parks and Recreation. Schitt’s Creek perhaps most closely resembles later seasons of Parks and Recreation, which focused its message on “what’s important in life: friends, waffles, work. Or waffles, friends, work. Doesn’t matter, but work is third.” Its focus on interpersonal relationships and the value of contributing to a community are a welcome escape, especially in this current period, which in many ways represents a time marked by political vitriol and bigotry. Schitt’s Creek has a compelling, uncomplicated charm about it that makes it far too easy to watch half a season in a day (unfortunately, I have done this). More than anything, it invites viewers to be introspective and open to learning about how others live.