It’s been over a decade since Broad City season one premiered on Comedy Central, and honestly, the show still feels like a lightning strike. You remember that feeling? Watching two girls in their twenties basically fail at life in New York City while somehow winning at friendship. It wasn't just "another sitcom." It was visceral. It was sweaty. It was deeply, unapologetically gross in the best possible way.
Abbi Jacobson and Ilana Glazer didn't just show up; they crashed the party. They brought a DIY energy that most polished network shows can’t touch. They started as a web series back in 2009, and by the time Amy Poehler jumped on board as an executive producer for the TV debut in 2014, the "vibe" was already ironclad.
The Scrappy Brilliance of Broad City Season One
You’ve got to appreciate the stakes. Or rather, the lack of them. In the pilot episode, "What a Wonderful World," the big mission isn't a career breakthrough or a romantic grand gesture. No. They just want to go to a Lil Wayne pop-up show. That’s it. To get there, they end up cleaning a creepy guy's apartment in their underwear while he roleplays as a giant baby. Fred Armisen played that guy, by the way. It was weird. It was uncomfortable. It set the tone for everything that followed.
Most shows about New York make the city look like a sparkling playground. Broad City season one treated NYC like a high-stakes obstacle course made of garbage and missed subway connections.
Why the "Hustle" Felt Real
Let's talk about the jobs. Abbi is a "cleaner" at Soulstice, which is basically a high-end gym where she has to mop up literal human waste. She wants to be a trainer. She wants to be an artist. But instead, she's stuck under the thumb of Trey (Paul W. Downs), the overly enthusiastic fitness bro who can't help but be likable even when he's annoying.
Then there’s Ilana.
She works at Deals Deals Deals.
Well, "works" is a strong word.
She naps in the bathroom.
She recruits unpaid interns to do her job while she watches videos of parkour.
It’s a specific kind of corporate apathy that resonated with an entire generation of people who felt disconnected from the 9-to-5 grind.
The Guest Stars and the World Building
People forget how stacked the first season was. You had Hannibal Buress playing Lincoln, the world’s most chill dentist and Ilana’s sort-of-maybe boyfriend. Lincoln was the grounding force. He was the only person in the show who seemed to have his life together, yet he was perfectly content to let Ilana be her chaotic self.
Then you had the "Pu$$y Weed" episode.
Seth Rogen shows up as "Male Stacy."
He’s sweaty.
Abbi is high on medical-grade painkillers after a wisdom tooth extraction.
The whole thing descends into a hallucinatory trip involving a giant blue stuffed toy named Bingo Branson. This wasn't just slapstick; it was a surrealist exploration of how being young and broke can feel like a fever dream.
The Nuance of Female Friendship
What most critics got right—and what fans felt in their bones—was that the central romance of the show wasn't between Abbi and her crush, Jeremy. It was between Abbi and Ilana.
They are obsessed with each other.
In a good way.
They FaceTime while one is on the toilet. They celebrate the smallest victories. When Abbi finally buys her own groceries or manages to kill a cockroach, Ilana reacts like Abbi just won a Nobel Prize. That kind of platonic intimacy was rare on screen in 2014. It wasn't catty. It wasn't competitive. It was pure, unadulterated support.
Breaking Down the "Working Class" Aesthetic
Unlike Girls or Sex and the City, Broad City season one actually looked like what it feels like to have no money. The apartments are cramped. The walls are thin. There’s a specific scene where Abbi has to go to a remote shipping center on North Brother Island just to pick up a package. If you’ve ever lived in a city and had to track down a lost UPS delivery, that episode ("The Last Supper") hits different. It captures the bureaucratic nightmare of being a "non-person" in a massive metropolis.
The show also leaned heavily into the gross-out humor typically reserved for "dude comedies." But here, it didn't feel forced. Whether it was Ilana hiding weed in her "nature's pocket" or Abbi’s various digestive issues, the show dismantled the idea that women in comedies had to be "refined" or "quirky" in a cute way. They were just people. Messy, loud, and occasionally disgusting people.
The Sound of the Season
Music played a huge role in why that first year felt so fresh. The music supervision by Matt FX brought in tracks that felt like the actual streets of Brooklyn. High-energy hip-hop, indie electronic beats, and that iconic theme song ("Latino & Proud" by DJ Raff). The music didn't just sit in the background; it drove the editing. It made the mundane acts of walking down the street or riding the bus feel like a music video.
Why It Still Holds Up in 2026
Looking back, the first season is a time capsule of a very specific era of New York. It was the tail end of the "hipster" Brooklyn peak. But the themes are evergreen. Everyone has an "Abbi" or an "Ilana." Everyone has felt the crushing weight of a job they hate and the desperate need for a win, no matter how small.
The show also tackled topics like sexuality and identity with a shrug. Ilana’s fluid sexuality wasn't a "very special episode" plot point. It just was. In 2014, that was quietly revolutionary. Today, it feels like the standard the show helped set.
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Misconceptions About the Show
Some people think the show is just "stoner humor."
That’s a lazy take.
Sure, there is a lot of weed. But the writing is incredibly tight. The callbacks are brilliant. The way a small joke in the first five minutes pays off in the final thirty seconds is a masterclass in sitcom structure. It’s not just two people being high; it’s two people navigating a world that isn't built for them.
Key Episodes to Revisit
If you're going back to watch, or seeing it for the first time, pay attention to these:
- "What a Wonderful World" (S1E01): The perfect introduction to their dynamic and the absurdity of their daily lives.
- "Pu$$y Weed" (S1E02): A chaotic look at trying to be an "adult" by buying your own weed, which naturally goes horribly wrong.
- "The Last Supper" (S1E10): The season finale. It takes place at a fancy seafood restaurant for Abbi's birthday. It involves a massive allergic reaction and a realization that as long as they have each other, the rest of the world can go to hell.
Actionable Takeaways for Your Next Rewatch
To truly appreciate the craft behind the chaos of Broad City season one, keep these things in mind:
- Watch the background. The show is filled with weird New York "extras" and blink-and-you-miss-it visual gags in the street scenes.
- Track the growth. Notice how Abbi starts the season much more timid than she ends it. Her evolution from "cleaning girl" to someone who can hold her own is subtle but real.
- Listen to the soundscape. The transitions between scenes are some of the most creative in TV history, using jump cuts and music to mimic the frantic energy of the city.
- Look for the web series roots. You can still find the original YouTube clips from 2009-2011. Seeing how "I Can't Stop" or "Financial Situation" evolved into full TV episodes is a fascinating look at the creative process.
If you’re feeling stuck in a rut or just overwhelmed by the polished perfection of modern social media, go back to the beginning of this show. It’s a reminder that it’s okay to be a mess. It’s okay to not have the dream career yet. As long as you have that one person you can call when you’re cleaning a giant baby’s apartment, you’re probably going to be just fine.
Get a Hulu subscription or grab the DVD set. Start at episode one. Don't worry about the "prestige" of it all—just lean into the sweat and the laughter. It's the best medicine for the mid-twenties blues, even if you're well past your twenties.
Check the production credits too; seeing names like Lucia Aniello and Jen Statsky early on shows you exactly where the future of comedy was being forged. These creators went on to give us Hacks and other brilliant works, but the DNA started right here in the dirty subways of season one.