Abstract

Unpacking the Bunker: Sex, Abuse, and Apocalypticism in “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt” Megan Goodwin Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt opens in a dark, sparsely furnished underground bunker. Four women (three white and one Latina) are decorating a Christmas tree. Their language is stilted, archaic; their dress and demeanor are extremely conservative. They are celebrating Christmas by singing about ending the world to the tune of “O Tannenbaum”: “Apocalypse, apocalypse! We caused it with our dumbness.” These are the members of the Reverend Richard Wayne Gary Wayne's Spooky Church of the Scary‐pocalypse. From the very first scene, viewers of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt know they're looking at a cult. These women are isolated. They live in apparent poverty. None of them look related, but they call each other “sister,” suggesting a complex family structure. They're all dressed alike and are very conservative in their appearances—long‐sleeved prairie dresses in muted pastels, no makeup, plain shoes. They all live together in a single space. Their singing reveals that they're concerned about the apocalypse, and the reference to Christmas suggests that it's most likely an apocalypse informed by Christian traditions. Popular culture has conditioned viewers to expect cult members to look like these women, training audiences through countless television shows, movies, news reports, documentaries, and talk shows. And the recognition that these women are in a cult inspires several viewer assumptions, because we all “know” what happens in a cult. Among the things, viewers “know” to expect are a charismatic leader and passive, primarily female followers, who are probably preparing for the end of days and most likely subject to sexual exploitation. Kimmy Schmidt echoes and amplifies a broader cultural narrative that links end‐times religiosity with sexual abuse and women's vulnerability, inadvertently reinforcing a dangerous American conviction that women like Kimmy—and her real‐life counterparts, women members of “cults”—need saving by outside forces. American state and federal agencies often read an overt apocalyptic worldview as evidence of irrationality on the part of minority religious community members, and participation in sexual difference as evidence of coercion and abuse. Popular culture depictions of new religious movements as irrational and abusive are frequently gendered: The movements’ leaders, usually men, are portrayed as deliberately deceptive and disingenuous; the movements’ members, usually women, are either too mentally or physically weak to leave of their own volition. Popular culture depictions of New Religious Movements (NRMs)—like Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt—contribute to Americans’ conviction that cult members need “our” help, whether they know it or not. While Rev. Wayne kidnaped Kimmy and two other “Mole Women,” Gretchen (the fourth woman in the bunker) joined his church willingly. The kidnaped women were grateful to be released, but many women members of apocalyptic new religious movements join or stay willingly. The stakes in these comedic episodes are fairly low, of course—whereas real‐life attempts to save women from apocalyptic cults often end disastrously for both the women in question and their would‐be saviors. “White dudes hold the record for creepy crimes”: cults in context Why should—how could—anyone join a cult? The answer, of course, is that they don't. No one joins a cult. People join groups that offer compelling answers to their moral quandaries, membership in a community that shares their commitments, belonging and meaning‐making and purpose. America has been, since its inception, a space that both fosters and punishes radical religious innovation—we have enshrined certain religious protections in our founding documents, but disincentivize any religious difference deemed too far from the (predominantly white Christian) mainstream. Groups too far beyond the pale of acceptable American religiosity are “cults.” Once a banal descriptor for a system of veneration or worship, cult in American parlance has come to signify religious practices deemed irrational, excessive, and—above all—dangerous. Sensationalist usage has largely robbed the word of any analytical utility. Cult is now shorthand for “religion we don't like,” or perhaps more accurately, “religion we don't trust.” Scholars of radical religious innovation prefer the term “new religious movement” though it lacks both the impact and the cultural resonance of cult. Certainly, new religious movements share a number of characteristics...

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