The cast of ‘The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives’ (Courtesy of Disney/Fred Hayes)
Rhett Kaya: From TikTok trends to the latest Taylor Swift album, there is always something CU Boulder students are obsessing over, opinionated about or adding to their vernacular. The Culture Critic will keep you up to date with the latest in entertainment and popular culture through content reviews, analysis and my self-proclaimed professional opinion.
Distributed through Hulu, the eight-episode reality series, “The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives,” gives viewers an inside look at the influencers behind ‘Mom-tok.’ The Utah-based influencer group is full of Mormon moms working to modernize what it means to be a Mormon woman.
Dealing with the aftermath of a swingers scandal, the show’s lead, Taylor Frankie Paul, might just be the worst example of a traditional Mormon. Her slew of controversies, including a domestic violence charge and premarital pregnancy, provide the contrast between old and new-school Mormons that the series is fueled on.
Throughout the show, the moms label themselves as sinners and saints, based on how strictly they follow the rules of the church. Taking vodka shots during a Brigham Young University graduation party? Sinner. Going out for sodas at Swig instead of coffee? Saint. Collaborating with a vibrator company for a brand deal? Somehow, still a saint. The show never lays out the rules or regulations but rather lets the moms label themselves and, most importantly, each other.
The show’s villain, Whitney, is considered a saint. She dresses modestly, refrains from alcohol and consults her parents on whether or not her actions align with the church. Despite her angelic persona, it only takes four episodes for the rest of the moms to label her as a narcissistic ‘Regina George.’ Whitney’s need for control of ‘Mom-tok’ pushes her friends away and sets the tone for how viewers perceive the saints.
“I think that Whitney embodies the distasteful aspects of a modern-day Mormon,” said University of Colorado Boulder junior Michael Robinson. “She scrutinizes the behavior of her peers heavily, negating the community that a group of religious individuals is meant to create.”
The series portrays moms Demi Engeman and Jessi Ngatikaura as the heroes, eager to destigmatize the way Mormon women are perceived and, as they say, “tackle the patriarchy.” They spend the duration of the series convincing the others to let loose and to define their own personal rules rather than blindly following those of the church. While the pair’s approach to Mormonism succeeds in modernizing what it means to be a Mormon, their insistence that others adapt to their rules feels a little hypocritical.
The show wants to create a contrast between the way the two groups are perceived versus how they act. Surprise, the saints are the devils in disguise, and the sinners have hearts of gold. In reality, it’s more complicated, and the mom’s constant bickering and nitpicking make all of them look cruel in different circumstances. Whether the moms replace the f-word with “fork” or bust it down at the strip club has little to do with their actual character.
In the climactic seventh episode, the moms come together when it matters, standing by the golden rule: what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. The conflict arises when Jessi surprises the moms with front-row seats to a Chippendales show. Post-show, one of the moms, Jen Affleck, who swears her husband is related to the actor Ben Affleck, gets in a fight with her husband Zach. The moms immediately call out his unreasonable expectations, illogical reasoning and hurtful words, branding him as toxic.
“I think Jen being the breadwinner of the house makes her husband insecure,” said CU Boulder junior Makena Jarvis. “He tries to control her by threatening the power dynamic of their family.”
The issue is not about an intricate set of rules but instead about common decency and a shared value of what a modern Mormon marriage should look like. After a season full of back-and-forths about the ethics of vibrators and divorce, the mom’s response to Zach’s actions showcases the modernization of the Mormon faith.
No matter how hard the producers try to draw lines in the Mormon faith, these moms write their own narrative, one of scrutinization and sanctimony, but also of community. Yes, they pick each other’s actions apart and often make a case for why one way is better than another; there’d be no drama without high egos and a lot of self-laudation.
Still, despite the show’s recurring drama and eagerness to separate the moms based on their ‘holiness,’ the group consistently posts TikToks together smiling and dancing their hearts out, proving ‘Mom-tok’ can survive even the most unholy of feuds.
You can stream “The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives” here.
Contact CU Independent staff writer Rhett Kaya at rhettkaya@colorado.edu
