Felicia Pride on Capturing Innocence, Humanity in ‘A Different World’ Sequel and Revering the Original: “We’re Not Replacing It”

Thirty-nine years to the day after A Different World premiered on NBC on Sept. 24, 1987, its long-awaited sequel has debuted on Netflix.

“The timing is right in terms of the fact that we need to hear from Black students, Black young people, and also the need for hope,” showrunner, creator and executive producer Felicia Pride told The Hollywood Reporter during a March set visit at the Atlanta University Center (AUC) Consortium, where the campuses of Clark Atlanta University, Spelman College and Morehouse College meet. “This show has a lot of hope, a lot of heart, it has a lot of warmth and an intergenerational element that I think is really important as we think about how we’re passing down experiences and wisdom in this very fast social media age.”

The series, which is also executive produced by Debbie Allen, who revamped the original spinoff of The Cosby Show in its second season, and Gina Prince-Bythewood and Reggie Rock Bythewood, who wrote on the sitcom from 1992-1993, introduces a new generation of talent alongside actors from the pioneering comedy set on the fictional historically Black campus of Hillman College in Virginia. At the center is the headstrong Deborah Wayne (Maleah Joi Moon), daughter of Dwayne Wayne (Kadeem Hardison) and Whitley Gilbert (Jasmine Guy), her studious roommate Rashida (Alijah Kai Haggins) and ambitious bestie Hazel (Kennedi Reece), as well as Deborah’s on-again, off-again football star love interest Shaquille (Cornell Young IV) and his roomies, Amir (Jordan Aaron Hall), who’s seeking a fresh start at Hillman, and the enterprising son of Nigerian and Ghanian immigrants Kojo (Chibuikem Uche).

In addition to Hardison and Guy, Darryl M. Bell also returns for the sequel as Ron Johnson, Shaquille’s father, and Cree Summer as Freddie Brooks, now a professor at Hillman. Other legacy cast members who make a cameo in season one include Jada Pinkett Smith, Glynn Turman, Joe Morton, Jenifer Lewis, Karen Malina White, Ajai Sanders and Charnele Brown.

Below, Pride talks with THR about the challenges of reviving the beloved series, hiring an all-Black writers room and implementing an HBCU advisory council, as well as her response to early critics of the reboot: “We get a new Black show and you’re mad? We’re not the same.”

During the set visit, so many of the O.G. cast members said they returned because Debbie Allen called them. She’s also the one who called you and said she wanted you to be at the helm of this sequel. Tell me about that call and your initial reaction?

I was [writing] on Bel-Air at the time, and she called me, and my initial reaction was definitely hesitancy. Can I pull it off? I grew up on the show in real time, watched it as a family on Thursdays. The show means so much to me — do I want to be responsible for messing it up? I had an inkling that it was going to be difficult, and I tend to like my peace. I’ve been saying this publicly, and I will continue saying it: If I knew how hard it was going to be, I would not have done it.

What made it so challenging?

There are a lot of stakes. With a legacy project like this, there’s a lot of managing those stakes and anxiety and everything around those stakes. Also, finding the show for a new generation and being clear on that was very challenging.

From an outside perspective, it feels like this series moved very fast from development to production and now premiere.

Once we sold it, it was accelerated. I had two months to write the pilot. I think we sold it in June [2004] and the pilot was due in August and then went through the development process, and then we shot the original pilot in July [2005] and then had the writer’s room and then went into production and then post [production] was accelerated so that we can meet this September [24th] deadline.

What was your North star when it came to storytelling?

Really wanting to capture and imbue the spirit of the original. The feeling that it gave you, which for me, was warmth. The feeling of having this community of students and friends and mentors and elders, also the texture and the culture of HBCUs, and then the political consciousness of the show. Those were the sides of the square.

And then paying homage to the original show, which wasn’t hard because, having grown up on it, it was so important to me, but also recognizing that this is a new show that has to stand on its own too. Bel-Air helped me learn how to do that. Finding ways through Easter eggs, bringing back legacy cast and those sorts of mechanisms to pay homage and keep the nostalgia, while also pushing forward with a new wonderful cast, which we have, and storylines that are modern. Even a visual look and feel that feels like today.

Talk about the writers room a bit.

The room was an all-Black writers room: seven writers plus myself, plus our support staff. About half of the room went to HBCUs, a lot of D9 [Divine Nine sorority and fraternity] representation. I’ve got to say, the writers room is always my favorite place, and it was an absolute joy and a privilege to have this all-Black writers room. And then, in conjunction with that, because of my days as an impact producer and the idea of co-creation, I pitched the idea to Netflix to have this HBCU council who will help us with questions we have and we can run things by them. So we had a council of current HBCU students across various HBCUs, because they’re not all the same. We wanted to make sure we had representation from FAMU, Lincoln, Howard, Spelman, TSU.

We were able to hear about their experiences and ask them macro and micro questions like, “What musicians do you like now?” “Do y’all have cuffing season on campus?” Then we also replicated that model onset. We had students from the AUC who were our onset HBCU council. We’d ask, “What kind of tents would you have at homecoming?” In addition to that, through Netflix, they have a Next Step partnership, and we were able to use that to hire HBCU students as PAs in various departments across production. That program is usually a pipeline to union jobs. Also, 59 percent of our background actors were HBCU students and alumni. So when we talk about that texture, that authenticity, it’s very important to me, and that was a large part of what I used to do as an impact producer in terms of making sure that you have impact in both the creation and the marketing of a show.

The timeliness of the issues discussed in the series is spot on right out of the gate in episode one with Amir not having housing, considering that was just happening to students at Howard University.

I always say that I’m in the business of illuminating our humanity back to ourselves, and our humanity includes the full spectrum [of experiences], so we wanted to really touch on both issues that HBCUs are facing and issues that the students are facing, both within the doors and outside the campus. That was one of the things that we wanted to tackle: the funding challenges that HBCUs have and how that trickles down. Also, across HBCU campuses, student activism, both, again, for issues related to their school and issues outside their school. Debbie will talk about how she was protesting at Howard about the curriculum. So that was always imbued into the fabric of the show.

I’ve been trying to find the right words to describe the series because it deals with real-world issues and doesn’t sugarcoat them, but there’s a lightness and even a wholesomeness that you often don’t see in YA portrayals today, especially of Black characters.

I talk about this a lot in my own work. I don’t trust work about Black people that does not have humor because humor is one of the most prevalent tools that we use to get through and get over. I always say we’re the people who are dancing and laughing at the re-past. That, to me, is the metaphor that I use in my head about the type of storytelling that I want to do, which is just honest. As Black folks, humor is something that we had to use and that we continue to use. That’s one of the ways that we process, that’s one of the ways that we heal, that’s one of the ways that we bond.

As an extension of that, I want to talk about sex and the conversations around it in the show because, as of late, I’ve been struck by the amount of nudity and rawness portrayed as it pertains to teen/young adult sex and relationships onscreen, and A Different World is on the total opposite end of the spectrum.

Because I don’t have an appetite for it. I don’t want to see it. Somebody described it as — when you were saying looking for the word — there’s still that innocence there. And that has kind of become a North star for me too. I think that’s a good word because the show has moments that can be considered sexy and sexual, but there’s still an innocence in their awareness and how they move and how they process mistakes. That is definitely something that stems from the original series that we wanted to retain.

The sequel also has its first openly queer character, Amir, though he is not the only queer character in the series. What did you discuss as you were developing his character and storyline?

We wanted him to be comfortable in his skin and already living his life. Also, Amir, played by the amazing Jordan Aaron Hall, is a little rough around the edges. He’s Harlem swagged out, and we learned more about that in the season — what he’s gone through — and he’s just trying to do right, and he’s just him. And then, as you know, we have characters who are on their journey of figuring out their sexuality as well. But we were more interested in telling a story about a young man who is queer, is just living his life and loving and trying to figure out his housing.

The legacy guest cast appearances, from Jada Pinkett Smith to Glynn Turman, are nicely spread throughout the entirety of the series. Joe Morton, though, was a total surprise standout.

He was my big get. Early on, Debbie called him, and he was in Italy somewhere, but I was like, “Debbie, we need him.” And I remember telling my line producer, “You don’t understand. Whatever we have to do, we need to make it happen. Work with his schedule”— because at one point his schedule might’ve been a problem. I said, “I don’t care. Make it happen.” And he came, and he was so dignified. And talk about off-book. He just showed up and dropped right in.

Does Halle Berry know her character, Jaclyn, is somewhat revived as Shaquille’s mom?

I believe she knows now.

Did you play with the idea of having Shaquille’s mother survive and having a Halle cameo at some point?

Things are still…Let’s see what happens in the future. Who knows?

Are there other legacy cameos that you decided you want to save for later seasons?

Oh, absolutely. That’s what I learned of Bel-Air too. You can’t go out and just use all your cards. The hope is people watch, so we get a season two. And we’ve got a huge wishlist for sure, but you have to spread it out.

The season ends with cliffhangers for all of the main characters. How far out have you scripted the show?

I don’t script nothing for free.

Did you come in with a three-season plan or anything like that?

No, because that’s what the room is for. Sometimes showrunners, and I find a lot of times emerging writers are like, “I’ve got six seasons.” By the time you get in that room, the first season’s going to be different than what you expected. So that’s what the room is for: coming up with what that is. Also, especially with our show, first we had find the show, but in working on season one, now we know more about these characters. We know more about our cast. We know more about their storylines. So you want to use all that. Of course, you have ideas and dreams that you want, but that’s what we do in the room.

What do you say to the naysayers who are over reboots or say when it comes to A Different World, “We don’t need to touch this.”

One thing is, how many Black reboots have we had? Let me know if I’m missing some, but we haven’t even had that many. Two, Hollywood is wildly unoriginal. That’s kind of the business model. They love IP, they love to bring something back. They love franchises; that’s just what it is. And then I would also say the original series isn’t going nowhere. We’re not replacing it— and it took me time to get here. And then four, this is a show that was created by a Black woman and has this powerhouse executive producer of Debbie Allen.

We have hired a young Black cast. A lot of them, this is their first opportunity. We had an all-Black writer’s room and an all-Black directing team that were all women and queer. We had a Black DP, Black costume designer, Black production designer, Black gaffer. We hired so many HBCU students across the board. You mad at that? We get a new Black show, and you’re mad? We’re not the same. That’s what I had to come to the realization of. When we say we care about Black people and we care about Black work, we’re not the same. So that’s where I am. And people are entitled to their opinions and to watch or not watch, but I do hope they check us out. I do hope they watch the entire season because there was a lot of love and care put into this show by a tremendous group of craftspeople who care about their work and care about the audiences that we’re telling these stories for.

What’s the biggest lesson you’ve learned being a showrunner for the first time?

My job is to fiercely protect the show above everything else. And that means that there may be, at times, folk who are disappointed— that’s within your ecosystem, that’s potential audiences — and you have to be okay with that because you know in fiercely protecting the show, you’re creating opportunity, you are providing value, and you are possibly getting something on the air. I think at one point somebody said it’s easier to get struck by lightning. You are then possibly opening up millions of people, especially when you think about the reach of Netflix, to Black stories. And so when I keep that in the forefront, as hard as things get, that makes it worth it.

What would be the best show feedback you could get?

That this new generation feels seen, just like I felt seen watching the original, and that they connect with the show. I also hope that people watch it together. I was just telling someone, “You could watch it with your sons.” It has an intergenerational feel in that the way.