Ramy Youssef can seemingly do it all.
He’s created and starred in his titular Hulu series about a young Egyptian-American man navigating his dual identity, taped multiple HBO comedy specials riffing on politics and relationships, and co-created Netflix’s critically acclaimed show Mo, about his real-life friend Mohammed Amer’s experiences as an undocumented Palestinian.
While the core of Youssef’s work is centered around the Muslim-American and immigrant experience, he’s proven he’s not one to be pigeonholed. In 2024, he made waves for working on projects outside his niche, co-starring opposite Emma Stone in the Academy Award-winning film Poor Things and nabbing an Emmy nomination for directing an episode of FX’s The Bear.
But Youssef’s latest project, the animated series #1 Happy Family USA, which premieres on Amazon Prime Video Thursday Apr. 17, brings him back to the central question of so much of his earlier work: What does it mean to be an outsider in a place you call home and in your own skin?
Co-created with South Park writer Pam Brady, #1 Happy Family USA is a hilarious depiction of the Husseins, an Egyptian immigrant family living in the aftermath of 9/11. Set in 2001, the show’s timing is quite prescient. Though Youssef pitched the series during Trump’s first presidency, the eight-episode season dropping amidst the president’s aggressive second term, and subsequent crackdown on both migrants and pro-Palestine sentiments is timely.
As the Husseins excise parts of their identity to assimilate in an era of “see something, say something,” and FBI informants infiltrating mosques, it’s hard not to think about what’s happening across the country today as Mahmoud Khalil and others are being deemed both anti-American and antisemitic for speaking out against the genocide in Gaza.
In a recent interview with The New York Times, Youssef acknowledged that these deep-rooted sentiments have long been woven into the fabric of American culture.
“To bring in the events of the early 2000s felt important in the sense that it’s something we talk about all the time,” Youssef said. “It’s part of what we’re currently experiencing. It’s never gone away.”
But while Youssef himself has been exceptionally outspoken about the atrocities in Gaza—he signed off his SNL monologue in March 2024 by saying “Please free the people of Palestine…and please free the hostages”—his characters are more reticent.
Take Hussein Hussein, the patriarch of the family. At the exact moment the Twin Towers fall, Hussein just happens to be at a nearby airport with his family. While there, his brother, Uncle Ahmed, says a prayer for a deceased family member and recites “Allahu Akbar” at full volume. Within seconds, Ahmed is tackled, beaten, and taken into custody at Guantanamo Bay.
Hussein’s initial reaction to his brother’s detainment and the Islamophobia that follows is to alter himself, and viewers witness this metamorphosis visually. All of the Husseins experience a physical transformation, fancifully “code switching” their appearances as they exit the front door of their home. Hussein’s long beard turns into a neat, trimmed mustache once he’s outside. His teen daughter Mona’s curly hair becomes pin-straight.
Throughout the first season, we watch as Hussein desperately attempts to prove his fealty to the United States and conceals his Muslim and Egyptian heritage. He adds “Jesus Christ” to his sentences, pretends to drink beer with his FBI agent neighbor, adorns his house in red, white, and blue, and tells his son Rumi that “white is right.”
He also jumps at the opportunity to appear as a correspondent on the fictional Fox News show “The Good Ones” where he degrades Islam on a segment that has the tagline, “Minorities Saying Majority Opinions!”
It’s easy to view Hussein as a coward, but as the series progresses, we see his internal struggles through comical, yet poignant musical numbers. At the end of Episode 2, Hussein strums a guitar and sings, “I think I’m scared. But I’m sitting with my family, got to show them that I’m brave… I’m the dad.”
Hussein grapples with his religion, but more urgently, he stresses about being the breadwinner for his family. And Youssef himself has said #1 Happy Family USA is not a show about Muslim or Arab representation but trying to make ends meet in a money-hungry society.
“This is a show about capitalism,” he told fans at SXSW earlier this year. “And I think when you watch the first couple of episodes, you’ll see that.”
Hussein is never fully redeemed in the show, but he is understood. His experience of trying to make ends meet in a society that exploits him makes his actions more justifiable.
In the case of Mona, however, it’s harder to sympathize. A first-generation Muslim and Egyptian-American, Mona has the acumen of a seasoned politician. When her girlfriend Gina asks why Mona hasn’t come out to her parents about their relationship, Mona conveniently comes up with an excuse saying, “It’s just, with 9/11 it’s so hard… as a Muslim woman.”
Gina, a progressive, white, and lesbian teenager, instantly gives in. We watch as Mona realizes the power of that statement. Harmonic music, butterflies, and stars appear as she utters those four words. It’s a funny bit. But it’s also disingenuous.
Mona’s lack of ethics is clear. She never comes out about her relationship with Gina, instead pretending to date a classmate accused of rape to use his parent’s money and buy the student election.
Any sympathy we have for Mona’s internal struggle with her sexuality quickly fades as it becomes clear she’ll do anything to become class president and get into Harvard. George W. Bush even compliments her political strategy. (Yes, the 43rd president makes an appearance in the show).
“‘As a Muslim woman…’ Man, they ate that shit up,” Bush says.
You get the sense that if Mona were a college student amidst the Free Palestine movement, she’d be calculated in what she says putting her self-interest above any moral compass. Like Biden and Harris, she’d probably echo some semblance of support for Palestinians but dance around the topic, never fully committing to the cause, especially not when jobs and degrees are on the line.
This checks out with Youssef’s capitalism theme, yet, there’s something that feels wrong about Mona leveraging her Muslim identity to manipulate and hurt others.
Her mother Sharia, on the other hand, embraces the religion wholeheartedly. In Episode 1, we meet her as “Sharon,” a non-practicing Muslim. But the loss of her father a day before 9/11 reignites her connection to Islam.
Sharia naively believes that, in return for reaffirming her Muslim and Egyptian identity, she’ll have access to a trustworthy community. She joins a mosque and earnestly (but mistakenly) thinks the congregants there will make dua, or supplication to Allah, for her deceased father. When her family receives fake phone cards at the bazaar, she initially refuses to believe another Egyptian would swindle them.
“Egyptians are noble. We don’t scam people. Especially not one another,” she says in Episode 6.
But it is not just Sharia who yearns for a sense of belonging. By the final episode, Hussein and Mona become nostalgic, too. Remembering his brother locked up in Guantanamo, Hussein drops the “America First” act and is determined to get Uncle Ahmed out. Mona also feels guilt and decides to apologize to Gina.
We watch as the Husseins code switch back into their original and truest forms: Hussein with the long beard, Mona with her unruly hair. That is, until the president bribes them with money and promises to elevate their status. The family reverts to their unethical, capitalistic ways instantly. Sharia included.
The only Hussein who stands up to the president is the show’s protagonist, Rumi. At just 12 years old, he decides he is the only one who can get his Uncle Ahmed out of Guantanamo Bay.
While it’s disappointing to watch the Husseins quite literally sell their souls to George. W. Bush, Youssef’s comedic timing has never been better.
As a Muslim American with immigrant parents myself, I found the show not only very funny but also poignant. I was in first grade when 9/11 happened. To this day, I remember the fear in my parents’ voices as we watched the Twin Towers fall. My dad was taken in and questioned by the FBI a few weeks later over an innocuous phone call to relatives in Pakistan. Remembering these details, it’s clear #1 Happy Family USA is so much more than just a comedy. It’s a story about survival.
What has always made Youssef’s work so compelling is that, amidst the ridiculous scenarios his characters get themselves into, there is truth nestled into everything they do. As we go on this wild ride with the Husseins, we shake our heads in disbelief at their actions, but deep down, we get it.
The complexities #1 Happy Family USA touches upon are similar to the complexities leading up to the 2024 presidential election, where, for most Muslim Americans, there wasn’t a right choice. But, is there ever a good option when you’re stuck in a capitalistic, two-party system? And, can we really blame the Husseins for being opportunistic in a world that devalues and undermines them?
Youssef has always put a spotlight on difficult conversations. In 2019, I asked him about the backlash his first series received due to its open portrayal of premarital sex amongst Muslim characters.
“People feeling uncomfortable about it is good,” Youssef said in response to my question. “I feel uncomfortable about it, and I made the show, but I knew I had to push past my comfort to talk about things (the Muslim community) is not talking about.”
Audiences will probably feel uncomfortable watching certain parts of #1 Happy Family USA. But along with the discomfort, there will be a lot of laughter and some sighs of relief, too. Like that feeling of hearing someone else say the exact thought you’ve always had but believed was too weird or inappropriate to share, and finally being able to rest easier knowing you’re not alone.
It’s what Youssef specializes in.
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