Deaf U

This series certainly demonstrates how typical, yet special this community is. The lives of the students in “Deaf U” make for compelling and thought-provoking television.

I do know that Deaf U is compelling, whatever wrestling matches you may find yourself in about its documentary side versus its soap side. For me, it is a reality show, made with exquisite production values and a really careful, thoughtful perspective about how to weave deaf culture into a bingeable teen drama. The docusoap term seems mostly like an effective bit of marketing.

It’s a show that embraces melodrama, yes, but it’s also full of heart; it perfectly balances soul with soapiness, turning these students into characters but also keeping their cores intact.

Deaf U, with its short (20 minutes or less) episodes, intriguing characters, and fascinating exploration of deaf subculture — albeit one that doesn't exactly cast deaf people in a very favorable light — is a worthwhile drive-by docuseries. DiMarco has cast the show well, finding interesting leads who reflect both the racial and hearing diversity of the Gallaudet community.

“Deaf U” entertains on its own merits but also represents a serious step forward in representing deafness and disability. Not every show about the subject needs to be a masterpiece, and “Deaf U” isn’t, but the fact that it can exist and just be fun is more than enough.

The first half of the eight-part debut season is full of small insights into the lives of deaf college students: dorm doorbells that flicker light to indicate someone’s arrived, the impossibility of cuddling and signing at the same time, the advantage of carrying on full conversations in noisy bars and clubs. But Deaf U is a reality series first and foremost, and, outside of the discussion of deaf politics and culture, not a particularly involving one.