Prince of Bel-Air (NBC, 1990–96). The original series follows protagonist Will (played by young rapper and burgeoning star Will Smith as a
fictionalized version of himself): an African American teen from West Philly who is forced to move from this rough urban area on the East
Coast that he calls home to the West Coast, specifically the wealthy Los Angeles neighborhood of Bel-Air. As he raps in the program's theme
song: “I got in one little fight and my mom got scared / She said 'you're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel-Air.'” Culture shock ensues
as Will navigates his new residence as a transplant. Over the course of six seasons, he ultimately acclimates to a life of privilege among his rich
relatives with playful humor. The 2019 fan-made piece, however, eschews comedy in favor of a gritty retelling of Will’s story. But it does
something perhaps even more important, too. Cooper’s work provides a metacommentary on television that suggests that the very form of
the sitcom—with its formulaic whimsy—simply cannot capture the emotional weightiness of the coming-of-age tale today.
The 3.5-minute film opened up the possibility for further generic reinterpretation of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. Cooper generated buzz by
producing what was essentially a mock trailer that promoted artistic experimentation with the original program. Indeed, the viral video
caught the eye of now-superstar Will Smith. Smith promptly began to collaborate with Cooper to actualize the latter’s narrative vision for
an official dramatic reboot of the beloved Black-cast network sitcom. This reboot, which retains the name Bel-Air, premiered on the Peacock
streaming service on February 13, 2022.
Bel-Air stands out in a sea of anachronistic and derivative reboots in its refusal to be defined by its televisual past of the ’90s. While the
program might pay homage to The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, it expands the world of the fictitious Will Smith without being tethered to a strict
memory of its predecessor.1 But there are limits to this reboot. Bel-Air understands itself as part of a new reign of representation that wields
the posture of #Blackexcellence as an aesthetic. The program, while providing a fresh point of view on the original sitcom, also relies on a kind
of processed idea of Black identity and culture in the contemporary moment that is wholly unoriginal. Ironically, the drama series fails to
truly capture the imagination of the fan film that started it all
We are in an age of reboots. Regardless of dubious audience demand, the television industry remakes and revives programs of the past to
capitalize on existing IP, in which brand recognition is understood as paramount to success. Yet despite a plethora of these series variously
scattered across linear and nonlinear television in recent years, what is most common among them is the whiteness of their source material.
Rebooting seems to mandate whiteness as its default setting. Indeed, there is an increasing amount of reboot TV, broadly conceived, that casts
performers of color—so as to promote diversity and inclusion—in roles that were formerly played by white actors. Take Doogie Kamealoha,
M.D. (Disney+, 2021–present), which follows Native Hawaiian girl prodigy Lahela “Doogie” Kamealoha as she embarks on a career in
medicine as a teenager, just like her pseudonamesake in Doogie Howser, M.D. (ABC, 1989–1993). The new Black-cast version of The Wonder
Years (ABC, 2021–present) can be seen as a reparative project that examines African American life in the late 1960s. Black entertainers have
even “rebooted” single episodes of The Golden Girls and Friends as organized table reads on Zoom with all-Black ensembles, reciting dialogue
verbatim but giving their own spin on beloved characters from these sitcoms
Despite these ongoing and one-off projects, original Black-cast or -produced media—such as The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air—inspiring a reboot is
a rare luxury. Currently, rebooted Black television is mainly not in the realm of live action, as evidenced by shows ranging from the children's
cartoon The Proud Family: Louder and Prouder (Disney+, 2022–present) to Everybody Still Hates Chris, which has been green-lit as an
animated revival of Everybody Hates Chris (UPN, 2005–2006; The CW, 2006–2009). The dearth of Black reboots reveals what programming
is considered valuable and worthy of being remade for a new audience.
