by Allison Hart

“People are just getting away with awful things. I’m just trying to make some of it right.” This is the driving philosophy behind MTV’s “Sweet/Vicious,” a comedy in its first season about two vigilantes who take on known rapists on their college campus. Ophelia (Taylor Dearden), a stoner slash hacker, is running from campus security one night when she comes across Jules (Eliza Bennet), a rape survivor who spent the summer training in martial arts, beating the crap out of someone Ophelia recognizes as a known rapist.

The show, created by Jennifer Kaytin Robinson, is in many ways the comedic sister of “Jessica Jones,” last year’s feminist rape jamboree. Like “Jessica Jones” it captured the real experience of life after trauma, from flashbacks to run-ins with “the guy who did it.” As someone who was herself raped on a college campus, (hi Kevin) it’s incredibly rewarding to see these things played out onscreen and given the weight they deserve.

This cultural moment comes on the heels of  “The Hunting Ground,” a documentary that tackles the myriad of issues surrounding rape on college campuses. It’s horrifying and sad to see the widespread willful ignorance of college administrations illustrated by cold hard data juxtaposed with the stories of young survivors who just wanted an education. But for all the information within, The Hunting Ground, is only a movie. There’s not enough time for them to address problems beyond frat culture and college athletics. That’s where Sweet/Vicious comes in, illustrating that there are thousands of small problems that build up the culture of assault that has overtaken college campuses. We hear about how if sororities could hold parties, they’d be safer from predators, that even nerdy guys can commit rapes, and that campus security is often ill-equipped to handle a real investigation.

The most interesting aspect, however, is that all of this information is woven in between jokes. Jules’ voice modulator is too deep, tomboy Ophelia poses as a sorority pledge for a mission, their friends take mushrooms and need babysitting, etc. For survivors like me, there haven’t been that many opportunities outside of Wanda Sykes bits to laugh about the ludicrous experience that is rape. Sweet/Vicious affords us that opportunity without sacrificing the seriousness of the topic or selling us out as plot points.

It’s not the best new show. The romance subplot could go and the music is “current” in a way that already feels a little dated, but this one has to be my favorite. It’s so empowering for me to see girls I’d be friends with kicking ass onscreen and healing from their own trauma.

The most powerful moment thus far comes just after an attack gone wrong. Jules has jumped someone much bigger than her and he attempts to kill her, only to be killed himself by Ophelia. The girls, scared out of their minds with adrenaline pumping, throw him in the trunk of the car and get on the road. Suddenly a song comes on the car radio. They begin to smile as Idina Menzel builds the famous crescendo in “Defying Gravity,” and suddenly they’re singing along. It seems simple and even trite on paper, but in the moment it’s jubilant. They sing out together, having faced a life-treating experience, and survived.