"By the end of the first episode of The Get Down, each character has their motives, their strengths, their weaknesses, and their dreams defined for the audience. As the series progresses, every character is forced to stretch Themselves in ways they never imagined possible. And they do this all in pursuit of one thing: liberation from what has kept them from pursuing their individual passions."
-Kaila Cherry
Warning: Some spoilers ahead.
Baz Luhrmann's short lived Netflix drama series The Get Down embodied the friction between raw artistic passion, the desire for control, and the intense emotional terrain of ambition that completely transcended the space of the film set. A courageous venture for Luhrmann to delve into, The Get Down explores the life of seventeen year-old Bronx native Ezekiel Figueroa (played by Justice Smith) as he discovers his love for hip hop in the late 1970s. Among Ezekiel (or “Zeke” as he is often called) are his ragtag group of friends, his on-and-off girlfriend Mylene Cruz, and the elusive Shaolin Fantastic (played by Shameik Moore), a drug dealer and DJ who becomes one of Zeke’s closest friends. The show, while it had a dedicated fan base, did not garner the same amount of attention that other Netflix Originals had at the time, such as House of Cards, Orange is the New Black, and most recently, the sci-fi thriller Stranger Things. Low viewership coupled with the show’s hefty $120 million production tag ultimately led to the first instance of Netflix cancelling an original series after a single season.
Price tag aside, The Get Down was more than just a novelty period piece to cash in on nostalgia. It gave pertinence to the experience of black and brown youth navigating life in the Bronx at a time where crime was high and politicians did not care about them. It documented, through a scripted narrative, the birth of hip hop in the United States, a genre in which fluency now is a form cultural currency. The show, in its form, was more cinematic than it was sitcom, consistent with Luhrmann’s past features such as Romeo and Juliet and The Great Gatsby. The result was a television experience unparalleled with anything I had ever seen before: beautiful, dynamic and heartfelt. With the cultural and artistic significance in mind, what happened to The Get Down?
Baz Luhrmann's short lived Netflix drama series The Get Down embodied the friction between raw artistic passion, the desire for control, and the intense emotional terrain of ambition that completely transcended the space of the film set. A courageous venture for Luhrmann to delve into, The Get Down explores the life of seventeen year-old Bronx native Ezekiel Figueroa (played by Justice Smith) as he discovers his love for hip hop in the late 1970s. Among Ezekiel (or “Zeke” as he is often called) are his ragtag group of friends, his on-and-off girlfriend Mylene Cruz, and the elusive Shaolin Fantastic (played by Shameik Moore), a drug dealer and DJ who becomes one of Zeke’s closest friends. The show, while it had a dedicated fan base, did not garner the same amount of attention that other Netflix Originals had at the time, such as House of Cards, Orange is the New Black, and most recently, the sci-fi thriller Stranger Things. Low viewership coupled with the show’s hefty $120 million production tag ultimately led to the first instance of Netflix cancelling an original series after a single season.
Price tag aside, The Get Down was more than just a novelty period piece to cash in on nostalgia. It gave pertinence to the experience of black and brown youth navigating life in the Bronx at a time where crime was high and politicians did not care about them. It documented, through a scripted narrative, the birth of hip hop in the United States, a genre in which fluency now is a form cultural currency. The show, in its form, was more cinematic than it was sitcom, consistent with Luhrmann’s past features such as Romeo and Juliet and The Great Gatsby. The result was a television experience unparalleled with anything I had ever seen before: beautiful, dynamic and heartfelt. With the cultural and artistic significance in mind, what happened to The Get Down?
Luhrmann had wanted to make the show for several years before it was picked up by Netflix. He began with the question: “How did so much creativity come from New York in that moment at that time?” From there, he delved into extensive research of the era, the city, the clothes, the attitude, and of course, the music. Luhrmann reached out to New York hip hop mogul Grandmaster Flash (who is mentioned on the show), Nelson George, a producer who grew up in the city in the late 70s, and Trevor Nelson, a British DJ. Flash and Nelson worked as executive producers of the show, while George worked as an adviser.
It was an extravagant project that Luhrmann created for himself. Originally, he only wanted to oversee the show’s development from a distance. He had other artistic ventures he wanted to explore, and hoped to be able to give much of the creative control of The Get Down to another showrunner. However, the pre-production stage was laden with problems. Writers couldn’t agree on a direction for the show, so they quit. New writers were hired, but they did not match Luhrmann’s vision. Slowly, he was sucked into the eye of the storm. He was writing, producing and directing— which was all much more than anticipated for this project. To put it simply, Luhrmann was in over his head.
As Luhrmann’s direct involvement grew, so did the expenses. He wanted a lot for The Get Down. He wanted elaborate music numbers in as many episodes as possible. He wanted great costume design. He wanted animation. He wanted to shoot on location in the Bronx. With all of these requests, Netflix and other companies funding the project were weary to comply. With a lack of funds, production was often stalled. This is why the first and only season of the show was split into two parts, one released in 2016 and the other in 2017. Production was stopped so many times that those who worked on the set began to nickname the project “The Shut Down.”
Despite issues in pre, post, and during production, the show was able to get the funding it needed. On August 12th, 2016, the first six episodes of The Get Down premiered on Netflix. From the first few minutes, we are immediately drawn into the world Luhrmann recreates. We see future Zeke (played by Daveed Diggs) on stage, enveloped in smoke and mutlicolored lights, with thousands of screaming fans below. We are to assume that Zeke has become a success. He begins to rap about his life in the Bronx and the beginnings of hip hop. The scene cuts between the stage and real new clips from 1977. After this sequence, we are cemented in the Bronx and let into the life of Puerto Rican teen Zeke. This format prevails throughout the series as the intro to each episode.
The show begins simply enough. Zeke wants to get a record for his crush Mylene (played by Herizen F. Guardiola), only to find that someone needs the same record with the same urgency . Zeke spends the episode trying to track down the man who took his record for Mylene. This man is revealed to be Shaolin Fantastic. The secondary plot of the episode is about Mylene herself, a young Puerto Rican girl restricted by the confines of her father’s religious practices. She wants nothing more than to sing disco, but her family will not allow it. She sneaks into a local club called Les Inferno, run by local kingpin Annie and her son Cadillac (who also happens to own a record label). By the end of the episode, each character has their motives, their strengths, their weaknesses, and their dreams defined for the audience. As the series progresses, every character is forced to stretch themselves in ways they never imagined possible. And they do this all in pursuit of one thing: liberation from what has kept them from pursuing their individual passions.
Luhrmann manifests this need for liberation both in each character's personality and within the historical context of New York City in 1977-1978. The first part of season one details the election of Ed Koch, the ruthless New York City mayor who attacked poverty stricken areas like the Bronx and promised to take graffiti off the streets and lock up all criminals in those neighborhoods. Mylene’s uncle, Francisco Cruz, is a small time politician with a desire to help his community. He helps get Koch elected with the hope that Koch will fund a housing project to turn dilapidated buildings in the Bronx into safe, cheap housing. Cruz finds himself constantly having to become a “model minority” of sorts, appeasing his rich white constituents who have no desire to help him, only to help themselves. Initially, Zeke is drawn into this white appeasement system through a program that would put him on track to go to Yale. Both of them have to grapple with their race in context with these rich white entities and suppress parts of themselves in order to succeed in what they think they want for themselves.
The show also explores the depths of sexuality and repression. As previously mentioned, Mylene wants to be a disco singer but is not allowed to by her father. The show follows her arch as she grapples with wanting to sing but also wanting to be sexy and uphold her family’s Catholic values. Sometimes, it is hard to tell when Mylene genuinely wants to express her sexuality and when it is being pushed upon her by managers and record executives trying to commodify her body. Sexuality is also explored through the character of Dizzy (played by Jaden Smith). Dizzy is one of Zeke’s friends and a member of his hip hop group. Outside of music, Dizzy sprays graffiti art on subway trains. Through his art, he meets a boy named Thor (played by Noah Le Gros) and becomes infatuated with him. Their friendship grows from passion over art to exploring psychedelics and the queer discos. We see both Dizzy and Mylene carefully navigate the expression of their sexuality in 1970s America, where Dizzy was not free to be in love with another man and Mylene was not free to be a sexual being.
The show also explores the depths of sexuality and repression. As previously mentioned, Mylene wants to be a disco singer but is not allowed to by her father. The show follows her arch as she grapples with wanting to sing but also wanting to be sexy and uphold her family’s Catholic values. Sometimes, it is hard to tell when Mylene genuinely wants to express her sexuality and when it is being pushed upon her by managers and record executives trying to commodify her body. Sexuality is also explored through the character of Dizzy (played by Jaden Smith). Dizzy is one of Zeke’s friends and a member of his hip hop group. Outside of music, Dizzy sprays graffiti art on subway trains. Through his art, he meets a boy named Thor (played by Noah Le Gros) and becomes infatuated with him. Their friendship grows from passion over art to exploring psychedelics and the queer discos. We see both Dizzy and Mylene carefully navigate the expression of their sexuality in 1970s America, where Dizzy was not free to be in love with another man and Mylene was not free to be a sexual being.
The Get Down, although it may not have been profitable, managed to express the zeitgeist of the 70s and mirror it with our current one. We do not feel alienated by the niche 70s culture explored by Luhrmann. He gives us enough context to keep us informed, but leaves rooms for us to piece together the narrative. Luhrmann keeps us visually engaged with quick editing in scenes of tension, long shots when aiming to convey emotion, and beautiful lighting, filled with blues and pinks and reds, fit for a disco.“The simple truth is, I make movies,” Luhrmann wrote on the show’s cancellation, “And the thing with movies is, that when you direct them, there can be nothing else in your life.” Despite the show’s promise, something was missing for Netflix and for Luhrmann, something so significant that neither could continue with the production.
That is the unfortunate thing about Hollywood. Sometimes, programs like The Get Down just do not work out. Maybe it was before its time. Maybe the public was not ready to see television as something as complex and wholly immersive as The Get Down. Maybe Netflix and Luhrmann overestimated the public’s interest in the lives of black and brown street kids from nearly 40 years ago. Or maybe it was solely a financial decision. It is likely that we will never get a true answer to The Get Down premature end. But to its future, Luhrmann has this to say on his Facebook page:
“... the spirit of The Get Down, and the story it has begun to tell… it has its own life. One that lives on today and will continue to be told somewhere, somehow, because of you, the fans and the supporters.
Humbled and honored, and to quote Mylene’s beautiful ballad, “I’ll see you on the other-side…”
Best,
Baz”
That is the unfortunate thing about Hollywood. Sometimes, programs like The Get Down just do not work out. Maybe it was before its time. Maybe the public was not ready to see television as something as complex and wholly immersive as The Get Down. Maybe Netflix and Luhrmann overestimated the public’s interest in the lives of black and brown street kids from nearly 40 years ago. Or maybe it was solely a financial decision. It is likely that we will never get a true answer to The Get Down premature end. But to its future, Luhrmann has this to say on his Facebook page:
“... the spirit of The Get Down, and the story it has begun to tell… it has its own life. One that lives on today and will continue to be told somewhere, somehow, because of you, the fans and the supporters.
Humbled and honored, and to quote Mylene’s beautiful ballad, “I’ll see you on the other-side…”
Best,
Baz”