The L Word & United States of Tara
Lady E, bless her heart, has sat through more Sportscenter, NFL games, Avalanche games, Nuggets games, re-runs of “Futurama,” re-airings of the Back to the Future trilogy, countless shitty movies I seem to re-watch every weekend on TBS, and my constant fawning over that scene in the bar between George Clooney and Jennifer Lopez from Out of Sight than probably any woman ever pictured she’d have to endure. But what does she expect? She’s marrying a complete media nerd who writes on the internet about ridiculous shit in his spare time for fun. She knew what she was signing up for, but I appreciate her mostly smiling grace through it all.
So, when she recorded three solid seasons of “The L Word” on the DVR before the new season began airing last week to catch up, I was in no position to complain about it. While watching a semi-earnest drama about a group of Los Angeles lesbians is not typically high on my list of things to watch, I thought back on her sitting dutifully beside me every time I switched back and forth between a Nuggets game and Rocky III on AMC (which they have been showing incessantly lately), and decided to give the show a shot. Know what I found out? It’s not half bad. I’ve gotten sucked into it, and have some thoughts to share after the jump. I’ve also included thoughts on Showtime’s newest drama “The United States of Tara” as well since we just started watching that too.
When jumping into “The L Word” in the middle of the series run, the first thing you’ll realize is that there are a lot of characters to keep track of, and the alliances on the show shift more fluidly than the last 45 minutes of the third “Pirates of the Caribbean” movie. Quite frankly, it’s a lot to keep track of as characters wander in and out of the show seemingly at will while you’re left scratching your primitive male ass trying to remember who fucked who and who’s pissed off about it and why.
At times, the writing is inconsistent as character motivations change on a dime and the ladies take a left turn out of nowhere. But this complaint is mitigated by the performances of the actresses who chew the scenery with the best of ‘em. Each character is given lines and/or scenes to sink their teeth into, and the actresses take that opportunity and run with it. It’s a bit hammy, but that’s what makes it fun.
I’ve sat with Lady E for parts of Season 3, almost all of Season 4, and the entirety of Season 5 up to this point. While I’m mostly enjoying myself, this show has served to reaffirm that I, like men everywhere, mostly don’t understand a goddamn thing about women. I do know that my favorite character on the show is Shane, the androgynous, libido-crazed player of the group who, despite struggling with her own problems with sporadic substance abuse, is the most even-keel member of the clique. I also know that I can’t stand Jenny Schecter and eagerly await her comeuppance.
Speaking of which, Season 6 is predicated on the premise, “Who killed Jenny Schecter?” After watching most of seasons 4 & 5, my answer is: I have no idea, but I’d like to buy whoever it was a beer. Despite this show’s contrivances and my griping about the inconsistent writing, Jenny is one of the best written characters I’ve encountered in some time. She makes me boil with rage. Her pouty, demanding, infantile, self-important princess put-on is among the most infuriating traits a character has ever exhibited on television, and I’m stuck to think of a character I was uncontrollably drawn to for more schadenfraude-tastic reasons. If you could liken it to anyone, it would have to be Dwight from “The Office” seasons 1 & 2. He was so irritating, he became the perfect foil for Jim and you couldn’t wait for him to get his. And then you reveled when he did. To say I’m looking forward to the murder of Jenny Schecter is an understatement.
Jesus, that sounds horrible. But whatever, she’s a ruthlessly infuriating brat, so I hope the murder is gruesome too.
Another surprising thing about this show is the random insights it’s provided me. Watching “The L Word” unexpectedly gave me insight into internet phenomenon Twitter. I generally abhor Twitter. I find the constant need to update the world 140 characters at a time about the mundanities of one’s day-to-day life to be narcissistic nonsense, and the supreme act of navel-gazing.
However, it never occurred to me until watching Marlee Matlin’s character on “The L Word” that Twitter, and text messaging in general, must have been a godsend to the deaf community. The advance of text culture opened up a brand new, mainstream channel of communication for a previously underserved subset of the population. I have absolutely no use for Twitter, but I imagine the deaf community positively adores it, which makes me hate it just a little bit less. Believe me, this was the last thing I expected to think while watching a show heavy on hot lesbian sex.
Wait, what?
That’s right, I made it a page and a half before mentioning that this show spills over with intense naked lesbian sex in every episode. God bless Showtime for continuing to provide high quality programming that isn’t afraid to toss in a bounty of tits, an occasional murder, foul language a-go-go, and a much needed counterpoint for the wussification of America. The sex here is outstanding, and there’s no denying the primitive male enjoyment of watching two (and sometimes up to four) hot women writhe lasciviously with one another for five minutes. I’d be ashamed to admit enjoying this as much as I do, but it’s just so fucking great, I can’t stop smiling to pretend to be embarrassed.
Overall, “The L Word” is a basic serialized soap opera unbound by the restraints of broadcast television. If you’ve ever been sucked into Desperate Housewives, 7th Heaven, or any other girlie show with multi-episode story arcs, you’ll find it easy to get sucked into this too. And with the promise of actors chewing the scenery at every turn and, yes, oodles of hot naked women, why would you fight it? Now bring on Jenny Schecter’s killer!
***
The United States of Tara chronicles the trials and tribulations of a Kansas family dealing with Tara’s dissociative identity disorder. Tara has gone off her meds and wrestles with three distinctive alter egos that pop up whenever something unexpected happens. Her family has learned to live with these “alters,” as they call them, but having a wife and mother that vacillates between an obnoxious, hormone-crazed teenager named “T,” a redneck man named Buck, a prim and proper 50s-era housewife named Alice, and herself is challenging. The show is written and created by Diablo Cody of Juno fame and stars Toni Collette who I remember most recently from Little Miss Sunshine.
After only two episodes, Lady E and I are hooked. Toni Collette manages the tricky task of creating three distinct characters that not only serve as Tara’s escape mechanism, but highlight Tara’s humanity at the same time. The alters should give us insight into Tara’s psyche as we try to uncover why she’s created them in the first place. In the first episode Tara sees a local high school douche bag roughing up her daughter, gets out of her car and yells at her, “I taught you better than to let some dork with pigtails push you around.” The ass hat responds, “These are samurai knots!” (Line of the show) Feeling unnerved by her the scene, as well as her daughter’s emerging promiscuity – the overarching concern of the episode, Tara morphs into Buck, and later in the episode, kicks the shit out of that little bastard. It’s a satisfying conclusion to the situation, and seeing an adult beat up a teenager is something I’ve never seen outside of Bad Santa. Seeing someone’s mom thinking they’re a good ol’ boy beat up a weasel wearing army boots, plaid pants, goth guy-liner, and yes, samurai knots is so strange it’s downright sublime.
With Diablo Cody steering the ship, you know you’re getting a bunch of pithy, erudite dialogue that can be a bit too cool for school. Most high schoolers don’t talk in the self-assured, detached manner these kids do, unless they’re in a Diablo Cody, Wes Anderson, or (if it’s 1996) Kevin Williamson movie. Some of the dialogue makes you a little too aware of the author, but in a better way than, say, when you watch “Two and a Half Men” and realize the authors are just randomly pulling entire pages from The Big Book of Sitcom Cliches.
My favorite thing about this show so far (aside from the obvious pleasure of gawking at these weird alter egos) is the way her family not only just handles the alters, but how they all still seem to love each other. Unlike a show like “Everybody Loves Raymond” where I was convinced all the characters actually hated one another, this family genuinely seems to care.
Tara apologizes to Marshall for Buck calling him a fag, and Marshall explains that the alters “only mean we get to be interesting.” Kate is amused by Buck being left handed (despite none of the other alters being a lefty) and returns all the clothes T bought on Tara’s credit card. And her poor husband Max manages all the characters with all the compassion a modern man should have. He does his job, covers for Tara when she’s not around (like when she’s baking a cake as Alice, for instance), resists the lusty advances of T, and loves her all the same.
This show has tons of potential, and even though the dialogue can get a bit cutesy, the characters are all so fun to watch, I’ll stick around for the long haul. Besides, I’ll take intelligent dialogue that’s a tad on the winky side, than the barbaric, laconic sentence construction from those idiots on “The Hills” or “Bromance” or any of that other crap any day of the week.
Until next time…
28 Jan 2009 E Dagger