Last year, Cazzie David, the princess and heir to the throne of uncomfortable and neurotic scripted programming as a result of being Larry David’s daughter, brought us a web series unlike any we’d ever bore witness to. Written with a friend from college, Elisa Kalani, Eighty-Sixed spoke to–and continues, more than ever, to speak to–the very unique problems of being dumped in the current landscape of millennial-obsessed and dominated social media. Addressing the gamut of issues in the same way that Sex and the City once managed to address every straight white female dilemma, Eighty-Sixed begins with Remi (David) going through pictures of famous couples that have broken up in order to find out which of the women seem to have “won” the breakup. In just one of many too eerie moments of the series, one of the couples happens to be Big Sean and Ariana Grande (the two split in 2015, over, among other things, Big Sean rapping about her “billion dollar pussy”), the latter of which you might now know as the person engaged to David’s ex, SNL cast member Pete Davidson.
Scrutiny over David’s own “reactions” to the news on social media lend an even more meta feel to Eighty-Sixed with hindsight. That Davidson himself cameos in one of the episodes, “The Birthday Monster,” as a waiter lends further bittersweetness to the fact that, at one point, he was willing to fly across the country for his girlfriend of two years to make an appearance in what she called her “silly web series.” But, oh, it isn’t silly at all. For who among us can’t relate to the problems of wanting to “curate an image of not caring” post-breakup by overly caring about how we’re presented on social media? Already in the first episode, “Promise I’ll Win,” Remi is losing horribly in the game Samantha Jones would call: “Who will die miserable?” And all thanks to a “friend” who tags her in an inspirational photo on Facebook insisting, “The shell must break before the bird can fly” and “Heartbreak is hard but loving someone who doesn’t love you is harder.” Naturally, Remi screams out from the former comfort of her bed, “Fucking idiot,” before driving over to her friend’s house and demanding to use her phone to tag other people in it so that it will look like her account got hacked and she didn’t intend to just target Remi. Obviously, this level of “curation” is extreme, yet we’ve all been guilty of worse in the twenty-first century.
Remi’s desperation to not only “win” the breakup by looking as though she’s moved on is also part of a larger plan to make him want her back, though she knows that’s unlikely considering she tells her best and only friends, Lily (Kristi Lauren) and Owen (Owen Thiele), “I think I offered for him to never see or talk to me again as long as he remained by boyfriend.” This height of neediness isn’t helped after Remi puts out the Facebook fire and finds that now Lily has put footage on Snapchat of Owen saging Remi’s room to cleanse the energy of her ex. “Oh my god! She’s friends with my ex on Snapchat.” The intricate depth one must penetrate to thoroughly cleanse an ex on social media is thus fully established by the end of the five minute episode.
Iterating the point of how much relationships are driven by ego when they inevitably end, Remi insists, “It’s not even that I wanna be with him anymore, it’s just like, I want him to wanna be with me for the rest of his life.” Then again, it’s often difficult to discern whether or not this is actually the truth, or merely what we tell ourselves after a breakup. But with only the breakup itself and this notion of “losing” to focus on, we also lose sight of what the relationship actually meant–if it meant anything at all and we weren’t just doing it for the sake of appearances on social media. This is the other great bane of millennial existence: not knowing how much of your life is real or feigned because of how drawn you are to use of it for purposes of parading in the screen-contained public space.
“Solidarity Cones” is David at one of her most Seinfeld moments, making both of her companions feel guilty for not getting a cone with her as a means of consolation to her pain. And as Owen talks about how great his cookies and cream flavor is while spooning away at it from within his cup, he catches himself and offers, “You want a bite?” Remi balks, “No, I’m not one those people who manipulates other people by asking how their food is to get a bite of it.”
In the span of just four minutes, she gives us 100% proof she is the daughter of Larry, who had her well late in life at the age of forty-seven, presumably when he reached some level of non-selfishness. Cazzie as Remi, on the other hand, is all too down to relish in the oblivious mire of that selfishness as she ignores the acquaintance that Owen and Lily encounter while eating telling them that she just found out her mother has a tumor. After she departs with her friend, both with cones in tow, Remi can only remark, “Her friend got a cone in solidarity for her.” Owen cocks his head, “Remi, are you serious?” Barely missing a beat, she says, “Yes.” So ends the shortest episode, packed with one of the most telling dialogues of the dynamic between millennials obsessed with themselves yet rarely willing to step outside of that self-obsession to help anyone else with their own emotional needs.
In “Melissa Tight Vagina,” the naturally narcissistic behavior of a generation is further illuminated as Owen and Lily casually discuss ending their friendship with Remi because of how annoying she’s being post-breakup. Remi’s lack of social grace rears its head in many ugly ways as well, starting with her ripping the aux cord out of someone else’s phone and explaining when he gets upset, “I’m trying to change the vibe of the party so my ride will wanna leave sooner.”
Forced to reconcile that she’s going to need to stay for longer, Remi attempts to profit by getting someone to take a picture of her, Owen, Lily and a rando on the couch. Not pleased with how “posed” it looks, she decides it will have to do and asks Owen to upload it and tag her and/or put it on Instagram. Owen declines as it doesn’t fit his carefully curated profiles, prompting Remi to explain, “If I upload it, it looks desperate and like I want him to know I’m going out.” Alas, Lily won’t perform the task either as her Instagram is strictly food photos–forcing Remi to beg a stranger to do it, one who ultimately doesn’t deliver but does give some intel about “Melissa Tight Vagina,” the girl her ex is now hooking up with. Like Mr. Pussy lore before her, it is said, “She’s known for having the tightest vagina.”
And just when Remi doesn’t think things can go less her way, she gets harassed by a drone manned by two twin brother “filmmakers” a.k.a. high school students that live next door to her in “Remi v. Drone.” Calling Owen over to help her catch it, she prophesizes in that vain millennial way that insists anything is possible, “We could have the first Supreme Court case on this. Remi v. Drone.” Owen rolls his eyes and bursts her bubble with the realism, “This is not the next Roe v. Wade.” She continues, “I feel violated, you know, who knows what they’re gonna do with that footage of me?” Owen, once again, the voice of reason, reminds, “Nothing. No one cares about you.” Not even her friends most of the time, which is one of the most interesting facets of Eighty-Sixed to watch. For more than a need to control and document every experience, millennials are guilty of total The Bling Ring nihilism when it comes to friendships and the true definition of the concept. Even people that one has just met are fair game for manipulation and “How can I benefit from you?” fodder. Which is precisely why Remi uses the twins in charge of the drone to not only take the attention off of her, but to use said re-appropriated attention to instead spy on her ex at his house. When the drone gets trapped inside, however, Remi further embarrasses herself/loses the game by running past the front door screaming, “Fake news!”
In the sixth episode, “New Friend,” Owen sends Remi off on a hike with a friend of his who has had far worse breakups and therefore ample wisdom to impart on how to cope. Everything seems to be going smoothly until she asks Remi for a sip of her water. Remi, at first pretending not to hear, finally has to confess, “I’m like a huge germaphobe. I just don’t share water. It’s not personal.” And it’s sort of true, as we see in the first episode when she tells Lily to get off of her bed while wearing “city pants.” But then again, if she truly was–instead of just curating idiosyncrasies in addition to the image of not caring–she wouldn’t have ultimately let Lily just sit on the bed, just as she ultimately concedes to giving Owen’s friend the water. But by then, it’s too late. Friends come and go just as easily as boyfriends in the orbit of a millennial.
For some reason, however, Lily manages to keep Remi and Owen in her orbit for her birthday, in which she transforms into “The Birthday Monster,” saying, “But it’s my birthday,” to any sign of lack of enthusiasm. This goes for getting Remi and Owen to pay for every meal in the twenty-four hour period that begins three hours before her birthday, in addition to Ubers being paid for and generally forcing the two to keep going out when they don’t want to. Remi, unable to withstand the pain any longer, fakes an excuse for getting out of it that highlights the unapologetic shallowness of being alive now. And in L.A. Another reason, by the way, that people need to stop making Lena Dunham comparisons to David’s writing style/subject matter as that’s cruel in general and well, because of this ardent essay maligning anything related to New York.
In one of the most bizarre narratives, “Cat Scan,” Remi comes into contact with a new landmine she didn’t previously take into account (no pun intended) after FaceTiming with Lily and pleading, “He just posted an Insta story, will you put it up to the camera and show it to me through FaceTime? I don’t want him to see that I checked it.” Lily can’t be bothered, but suggests that she create a fake account to see for herself–prompting her to have the sad “Eureka!” moment, “I can follow all the girls he’s followed in the last month and look at their stories too.” But for as aware of how social media someone of Remi’s age is supposed to be, she doesn’t foresee the notification Instagram is about to give to all of her followers that blows the lid off her cover: “Remi Levitz, one of your contacts, is on Instagram as @annecho887. Would you like to follow them?” Realizing that her ex will immediately know that she’s made a fake account and has then followed him, she feels yet another palpable loss in a game that he doesn’t even seem to be playing.
Four months later, in “Texting,” the series finale, Remi doesn’t seem much better off–though she is sort of seeing someone new, whatever that can really mean in the age called au présent. Giving us a portrait of what we’ve all gone through before–how to compose and decode texts–we see Owen telling Remi, “A guy doesn’t text you ‘Hi’ at 11 a.m. if he doesn’t wanna hook up,” and Lily chiming in, “Also guys will hook up with literally anything.” Elsewhere, Owen advises, “You should respond now so it doesn’t look like you waited to respond.” So many unspoken rules to follow and so little yield from following them, Remi eventually decides to say “Fuck it” and violate the most cardinal rule of all: not double texting a.k.a. waiting for a response before sending another one. “Why the fuck did you guys let me send that?” she concludes.
Like Remi, Cazzie, too, has had several bumps along the road after her relationship’s demise, not least of which include the fact that Davidson’s tattoo artist, Jon Mesa, posted an Instagram photo of Davidson’s coverup of his original tattoo of Cazzie’s face with a forest of trees. This was the day after he announced his breakup with her. And before getting some new ink of Grande-inspired motifs like the black bunny mask from Dangerous Woman behind his ear and the initials AG on his thumb. A little much indeed. And just one of many reasons the internet is dissecting David’s own social media reactions with such vigilance, like noting that she posted a picture of herself with a bottle of wine and the caption, “Came to wine country a person, leaving a human bottle of wine,” while traveling in South Africa or that she also sarcastically posted a photo of herself on a safari with the “innocent” question, “Been in Africa, what’d I miss ??” It’s all very Remi, except with far more artfulness and a better chance at, one day–when the undeniable annulment or call off of the engagement happens–winning that game. Because, unlike some feminist-positive people will try to have you believe, there is always, but always, a winner in the breakup. All we really know right now is that it’s not Mac Miller. Or Remi.
