The bold and the ‘Ugly’

THIS month, America Ferrera is gracing the cover of W magazine, a fashion title known better for striking photography and society coverage than for stands of principle. Ferrera is being feted for her portrayal of Betty Suarez, assistant to the editor in chief of Mode magazine, the fictional fashion title at the center of ABC’s “Ugly Betty.” Her character has pluck, determination and ... braces. And odd clothes. And an allergy to the sort of small talk that would make her job so much easier.

The show’s view of the fashion industry isn’t a charitable one, so putting Ferrera, beautiful as she is, on the cover of W smacks of a self-congratulatory pat on the back -- only a Vogue cover would have had more import, but they’d spent their year’s worth of conceptual capital with March’s Jennifer Hudson cover. But without the braces, and with the assistance of W’s styling and photography, what could have been a subversion is safely masked as, you know, progress. In a striking cerulean dress, and above the inevitable tagline “Hot Betty,” Ferrera is fully assimilated.

And so we face the end of the first season of “Ugly Betty” (Thursday at 8 p.m.), where the thought of her as a true underdog has become unbearable, or at least untenable.

In one way, that’s a relief. Early episodes of “Betty” were notable for their mean-spiritedness. No character in recent prime-time memory has been so systematically mistreated, and so blatantly. But catty thin-girl sniping grew tiring quickly, leaving room for new plot ideas. Betty went from a one-note giver of support and taker of abuse to a fully articulated character. She became a confidante and substitute mother to her womanizing boss Daniel Meade (Eric Mabius) in what would become a high-functioning codependency. She split from her boyfriend Walter (Kevin Sussman), a neighborhood guy, and fell for a co-worker, the dweeby Henry (Christopher Gorham). And she became an unlikely role model to her fashion-obsessed nephew Justin (Mark Indelicato, a true discovery), who otherwise takes pleasure in picking his mothers outfits and memorizing the minutiae of musicals.

Betty’s relationships with these characters are vivid and highly verbal. She is relentless, never cloying and always at the forefront of a situation, even if she’s the smallest player. To keep up with its protagonist, “Betty” is easily the brightest show in prime time -- from the sets to wardrobe design to choices of music, the show displays a true pop sensibility. Color and light are deployed to profound effect; even at its dowdiest, “Betty” retains a whimsical edge. It’s a style it owes to the telenovela world, but which the show’s producers have made their own. Two weeks ago, a beauty-school showdown involving Betty’s sister Hilda (Ana Ortiz) was soundtracked with Survivor’s “Eye of the Tiger,” and it didn’t even feel kitsch. A true accomplishment.

Certainly, not everything has flowed so smoothly. Betty’s father, Ignacio (Tony Plana), was heavy-handed through much of the season’s first half, though the slapstick that derived from his continuing immigration struggles suited him better as the weeks progressed. And Betty’s office compatriot and fellow style eccentric Christina (Ashley Jensen) has been the show’s most inscrutable character, both in accent and purpose.

As the show gained confidence over the course of this season, so did Betty. But does a hot Betty violate the show’s central conceit? Two weeks ago, it was clear she’d begun picking up swagger from her surroundings. “You’re such a dork,” she warmly chided Henry after he asked if he could crash the secretary-appreciation party she was organizing. “You know you love it!” he zippily replied. It was a refreshing flash of banter.

Last week, Betty flew to Mexico with her family to support her father, who is being threatened with deportation. Upon her arrival, a relative marveled, “Oh my God, you’re so skinny!” Replied Betty, “You’re the third person who’s told me that -- I love it here!” It’s as much a rejection of the office she’d left behind as an embrace of its ideals, though on safer grounds.

Finally, as Betty’s gotten more certain, those around her have cooled. Marc (the invaluable Michael Urie), who famously gagged himself in the pilot episode after fake-complimenting Betty on her “killer poncho,” now just calls her “Grandma,” and a few weeks ago, he used Betty as his faux girlfriend to dupe his closed-minded mother. Amanda (Becki Newton), the conniving receptionist who used to undermine Betty for sport, now seems to be more often looking for sympathy for her own problems. In other words, everyone else’s veneers are crashing down. It makes for a more equitable office, but with the defects spread so equally, the show could begin to lose its center. And if that happens, “Betty” runs the risk of becoming just another predictable workplace comedy ... in which everyone’s ugly.