The Bold Type season 2 went full hate-watch, thanks to Jane

THE BOLD TYPE - "We'll Always Have Paris" - SuttonÕs professional dreams come true when she jets off to Paris for Fashion Week, but while there she gains a new perspective on her situation.Ê Jane moves forward with her fertility plan, until she learns surprising news about her options and is faced with Ben and PinstripeÕs different solutions.Ê And Kat faces pressure from Jacqueline to make their Paris party a success, while attempting to reset her relationship with Adena. This episode of "The Bold Type" airs Tuesday, August 7 (8:00 - 9:00 P.M. EDT) on Freeform. (Freeform/Philippe Bosse)AISHA DEE, KATIE STEVENS
THE BOLD TYPE - "We'll Always Have Paris" - SuttonÕs professional dreams come true when she jets off to Paris for Fashion Week, but while there she gains a new perspective on her situation.Ê Jane moves forward with her fertility plan, until she learns surprising news about her options and is faced with Ben and PinstripeÕs different solutions.Ê And Kat faces pressure from Jacqueline to make their Paris party a success, while attempting to reset her relationship with Adena. This episode of "The Bold Type" airs Tuesday, August 7 (8:00 - 9:00 P.M. EDT) on Freeform. (Freeform/Philippe Bosse)AISHA DEE, KATIE STEVENS /
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The Bold Type wrapped up an improved sophomore season Tuesday and confirmed its status as perhaps the most fun hate-watch on TV.

If you’ve heard anything about The Bold Type on Freeform, you’ve probably heard one of three things: it’s that show about/based on three young women working at Cosmo, it’s notably interested in handling topical issues and, uh, it’s main character, Jane Sloan, is the worst.

The first season followed the personal and professional lives — the Venn diagram of which is essentially one overlapping circle — of three staffers (a writer, a social media strategist, and an admin with fashion department aspirations) at Scarlet magazine, a transparent Cosmo stand-in. Along the way, they explored their sexualities and sexual identities, considered major career changes, negotiated salaries, got tested for genetic diseases, faced the fear of layoffs, generally were the very best of friends and memorably screamed at a subway in ball gowns. It was exactly what you might expect and it was good.

Season 2, which wrapped up Tuesday night, was equally fun and good, maybe even better, with decent low-stakes cliffhangers set for season 3. And with that wild ride concluded, it’s more clear than ever before that The Bold Type is, at least for anyone over the age of 25, a hate-watch.

There is a limit to the value and enjoyment of a hate-watch — with so much TV you can practically tailor to your tastes, why waste the time on something you don’t love? But The Bold Type is the perfect hate-watch, which is to say, hating characters (specifically and really only, Jane), various plot points, the bonkers interpretation of how media, jobs and interpersonal relationships work or the heavy-handed social justice topics-of-the-week is all part of the fun.

As far as the latter issue, a large part of this is excused by the nature of the show. The Bold Type offered unpatronizing and mostly thoughtful treatment of slut-shaming, gun control and discrimination, as well as less headline-grabbing concerns like grappling with biracial identity or the relationship between a serial abuser’s victims. The show’s politics and willingness to ask tough questions — and put controversial positions in their leads’ mouths — is deserving of the praise it has received. Still, the fact it’s always wrapped up neatly and amicably with a bow at the end of each episode can be frustrating.

But really, the surface-level activism is not the issue — again, it’s easy to set aside and remind yourself that this is a Freeform show not a TED Talk. What grates with the show’s treatment of issues in season 2 is that, almost always, it involves a character the writers seem to have willfully turned into one of the most loathsome characters on TV: Jane Sloan.

It’s impossible to believe that Jane’s devolution is anything but intentional. And yet, it’s possible the writer’s room doesn’t quite realize just how terrible they have made her.

And, really, everything about Jane is terrible. As Heather Schwedel aptly summarized at Slate:

"This season alone, Jane has sold out the publication she works for on live TV, freaked out over a guy she’s dating being a Christian, complained—to her black friend—about not getting a job because she’s white, and reacted so stubbornly to her roommate secretly keeping a gun in their apartment that she made the girl hiding a gun seem like the reasonable one."

And because the show is so committed to painting Jane as someone who is also lovable, hating Jane easily escalates to hating the show, as otherwise good and wonderful characters and storylines are forced to do out-of-character cartwheels to support, praise and forgive her. And yet, the rest of the show remains so good you can’t help but still enjoy it.

It’s still outrageously unrealistic, the soundtrack is still excellent, it will still make you appreciate and/or miss working with your best friends. (Everyone has a fashion closet, it’s just rarely, if ever, as glamorous as a fashion closet.) Sutton, one of the three leads, has, in particular, become a highlight, enjoying the good will and audience investment Jane would, in some alternate universe, presumably earn. (A number of good and deserved things happen for Sutton in the finale. Jacqueline gets a lot of credit as the dream mentor, but Sutton and Oliver have sneakily one of the most satisfying relationships on the show. Similarly, her romantic relationship has been developed well enough to move past the cliché of an assistant involved with a board member. Sutton’s the best.)

The supporting cast (i.e. anyone who is not Jane, Sutton or Kat) regularly delights too. (An incomplete season 3 wish list: more Oliver, bring back Angie, more Alex, bring back Black People Snack Time, more Andrew, do a Jacqueline bottle episode.) In all, it’s still a super fun show, even when Jane makes you want to kick in your screen. Hence, a hate-watch.

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Of all of season 2, the finale may have struck the balance of joy and Jane best. Which is to say, there was a minimal Jane presence to hate. She was the worst, per usual, inexplicably dealing with a love triangle and demanding her boss immediately deal with her personal problems which are inconveniently indicative of institutional woes, but the episode’s attention to every character worked to her advantage. The beats of resolution and stakes-setting were satisfying in all the right ways. And it ended the only way The Bold Type could, with the three friends together in Paris, enjoying their absurd work perks, with Jane, amazingly, not quite getting the last word.