Lady Dynamite, the Netflix hidden gem you need to be watching

LIKE Arrested Development, Broad City or Girls? You need to be watching this. We chat to the brightest new star on Netflix about a comedy that’s got the critics raving.

Comedian Maria Bamford mines her own experiences of mental illness in the frenetic, frequently hilarious Lady Dynamite. Photo: Doug Hyun/Netflix

“I’M a 45-year-old woman who’s clearly sun-damaged. My skin is getting softer but my bones are jutting out, so I’m half soft, half sharp! And I have a show! What a great late-in-life opportunity!”

So begins Lady Dynamite, comedian and longtime cult favourite Maria Bamford’s brand new Netflix show and biggest break to date.

Helmed by Arrested Development creator Mitch Hurwitz and South Park producer Pam Brady, the show is a frenetic, time-hopping take on Bamford’s own life: her experiences as a jobbing actor and comic in LA, her self-sabotaging dating life, and her at times life-and-death battles with the dark cloud of mental illness.

From the opening credits on, it’s absolutely, hilariously bonkers. Across its 12 episodes, Lady Dynamite is stuffed full with talking pugs, fourth-wall breaking celebrity cameos, and mind-bending flashbacks. At the centre of it all is Bamford, grounding the show with a comedic star turn.

In her only Australian interview, Maria talks to news.com.au about one of the best new TV shows of 2016.

Maria, Lady Dynamite has been on Netflix for a couple of weeks now. Did you run and hide once it premiered, or keep an eye on the reviews and the viewer feedback?

I’m definitely not hiding! People can find me. 90044, that’s the zip code I live in. It’s been so nice hearing from tons of fellow comics, people on the internet, family and friends and stuff. Friends from high school, even. We haven’t heard yet from my husband’s brother, so we’re a little worried on that front. He may not be a fan, but it’s OK. It’s OK for somebody not to like something, that is democracy.

There’s a palpable sense of panic in the opening episode about being given your own TV show. Is that how you felt in real life?

Oh God, yeah. I was amazed, constantly amazed that it kept going forward. I was like ‘OK, I guess they’re still … they keep telling me to come in …?’ This industry is sort of like a friend with a terrible drinking problem: you’re not sure what mood you’re going to catch them in. But it kept going so well.

Pugs, not drugs. Or both, if you need to take your meds. Photo: Saeed Adyani/Netflix

The show really captures your voice, but you didn’t write it. Were you guiding the writers?

Guidance involved me coming in for a couple of hours a day and eating a salad and laughing at jokes, that’s the kind of guidance I provided. It was a real group effort — I think it really represents the voices of Pam Brady and Mitch Hurwitz too, as well as the other writers. It was nice to be part of a team, rather than being a lone ranger. I get tired of my own voice.

It was amazing to work with the team of writers, to trust them and go through that process. I was very anxious: What if this isn’t truly, exactly like my stand-up? I did try writing scripts and it turns out I’m not very good at it. We read one of the scripts I wrote aloud and it was grim; it was a grim experience. I decided to let go and it went so much better than I ever could’ve imagined once I did that.

Your experience of mental illness has become such an integral part of your comedy — was that ever up for debate for you? Did you have any trepidation about speaking publicly about your experiences?

As a comedian, I don’t think I’ve ever had anything to lose in terms of a GIANT FOLLOWING who are SUDDENLY DISGUSTED by the turn of events. My act is not for everybody, and part of it is about mental illness. People have connected with that, and it’s really inspired me. It’s great to have a job where I can talk about something that’s brought me shame and pain in the past, and now I can hear people laughing and know that I’m not alone. I’ve always been kind of an over-sharer; it’s a problem.

Maria with Bruce (Fred Melamed), her hapless manager. Photo: Saeed Adyani/Netflix

Because you do talk about such personal stuff, your fans tend to feel a deeper connection with you than with the average comic. Is that ever tricky to manage?

I don’t know, it depends on the person. Everybody’s pleasant and polite — I haven’t had any bad experiences of anybody saying ‘I like you and now I’m gonna sit on you!’

That’s the thing about the entertainment industry, I’ve striven … strived? Struved? — to be recognised, get fame and prestige and all those things. Then suddenly you’re mad at people? ‘Oh, leave me alone?’ No, the whole reason I wanted to get into show business is I wanted to fight my normal inertia and shyness.

Obviously Lady Dynamite is loosely autobiographical — and watching the show, it seems you struggled after you became the ‘Target lady’ (Bamford was the real-life face of Target in America for several years for a high-profile ad campaign).

Yes. For sure. I am not going to do another advertising campaign … I didn’t understand, even though it was clearly written in the contract, about ‘nondisclosure’. You can’t criticise the company — well, of course you can’t, you’re advertising for them. But it turns out, as soon as someone tells me I can’t do something, that’s all I want to do. I cannot be trusted. It felt bad. I’ve worked for giant corporations before, but I was a secretary. I felt more responsible [being a spokesperson]. I don’t think we should be buying all this cheap stuff from big stores — you really need a new thing? Really? I don’t need to hear that anymore. I have enough.

The show jumps back and forth in time — flashbacks show Bamford at home in Minnesota following a mental breakdown. Picture: Netflix

You’ve come up against prejudices and misconceptions in the past when you’re talking about mental illness. Do you feel like those stigmas are ebbing away?

I think I’m very coddled now. I only do venues and public radio shows and … very warm, festival-type shows. I don’t know if it’s good or bad that I’m sheltered from whatever prejudices there might be ... but also, life’s short and I don’t want to go, ‘Yeah, I’m gonna go down to the casino! Try to teach people a lesson! Guess what? Wake up America! Someone’s about to lay down some truths about mental illness and suicide!’

Bamford frequently seeks counsel from best friends Dagmar (Bridget Everett) and Larissa (Lennon Parham). Photo: Doug Hyun/Netflix

Let’s talk cameos. Lady Dynamite is littered with great guest stars — you date two Supermen in a row (Brandon Routh and Dean Cain).

That was hilarious. I think they wanted to get a third, or some other superhero — that was talked about. Bridget Everett, I was so excited to have on the show[the fellow comic plays Maria’s best friend Dagmar]. She’s wonderful, and every time I see her I’m so inspired and energised.

Lady Dynamite may just have the best opening credits for a show this year. How did that come about?

It was just everybody having fun and thinking it would be fun to watch an older white woman dance in polyester.

A scene from Lady Dynamite’s wonderfully bonkers opening credits.

There’s something very Blaxploitation about it.

It definitely was co-opted and stolen from African-American culture, as with everything I do in life. It’s all co-opted from someone. I’m currently wearing some jeggings that were made by some young ladies, I’m sure, in Korea. I am sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, is all I can say.

A torrent of apologies — that seems a lovely point to end on.

Yeah, I think so.

Lady Dynamite is now screening on Netflix. MariaBamford.com