Flaaaaash-back

Here’s your 90s tune for the week.  Remember this one?  I first heard it on the Rick Dees Weekly Top 40 (yeah!)

Gossip Girl… do they just not get it?

See, they DO care about each other

Gossip Girl has finally started to get a bit of media attention in Australia, but I’ve been rather surprised by the reviews.  Whereas a lot of American media outlets are enamoured by the show, Australian reviews have generally been rather cool… to say the least.  Take, for example, this review from the Sydney Morning Herald.

It focuses on the obvious: the money, the wealth, the sex.  But it completely ignores the nuances of the show.  And yes, a show so over-the-top and obvious can have nuances.  Looking for a lesson? It’s as simple as that money doesn’t buy happiness.  But neither does middle class comfort guarantee contentment, as Dan and Jenny will attest to.

Furthermore, the presence of immorality in the show does not make it amoral.  Or, for that matter, immoral.  When read in a certain way, the show takes a clear position.  Simply put, Chuck is bad because of his philandering.  If he were to settle down with Blair, he would miraculously become good.  The Humphreys are the heroes.  While other characters may be our favourites, it is this functional, respectful, balanced family that provides the emotional centre of the show.  While extravagances flourish, it is the Humphreys that provide the most genuinely aspirational moment.  Teenages that communicate that clearly and well with their parents even when rebelling?  That is probably the most fantastic (in the true sense of the word) element of the show.

But to reduce the show to a mere morality tale is to deny it much of its richness.  It is elaborate and indulgent and utterly over the top.  But that’s kind of the point.  To hark back to an earlier motif of the evening, it’s about the story.  The huge, elabourate, melodramatic stories, told in a way that allows us to connect with the characters.  The stories keep us entertained.  The characters keep us invested.

Quite aside from that, though, Gossip Girl is amazing because it’s one of the first shows to generate a strong following online which they ultimately had to consciously work to translate into ratings.  It’s a fascinating example of the future of television, as this awesome article in NY Mag points out.

But back to my original point, for this has been a rather rambling post.  Why is it that Australian reviewers have been so negative toward Gossip Girl, when the reception in the US has, if not been universally welcoming, at least varied enough that quality media outlets appreciate the show.

I think, perhaps, Australian reviewers are being lazy, expecting to find something, and thus searching for it.  The conclusion from that review “At least Carrie, Charlotte and Miranda actually care about the people they sleep with” is unnecessarily dismissive of the GG characters.  One could never, ever suggest that Serena and Dan didn’t care about each other in season 1.  Or that Chuck and Blair don’t care for each other now.

Maybe we’re conditioned to reject anything that comes in glossy packages, a working out of the tall poppy cliche that has long since grown tired.  Or maybe they are just too freaking old to get it.

Our own stories

I’ve been thinking, lately, about the way we tell our own stories.  We all have stories and, really, the bulk of our interaction revolves around telling them.  Particularly interaction that is purely social and has no immediate function.  When we talk about what we like, we often frame it in a story.

But, at some point, does the line between experience and story get blurred?  Does our desire to have narrative sometimes frame the way we perceive events? And do we remember things as they were, or within the narrative framework we’ve invented around them?

Because this is about stories, I’m going to frame my comments within my own experience.  In times past, I’ve been so eager to find a pattern, as story, some meaning in events that I have arbitrarily assigned importance to some things over others in order to make them fit my tale. Rather than assessing encounters and experiences on their own merit, I’ve slotted them into a narrative framework I had already created.  Sure, it was a sort of moving framework, which could be changed when necessary, but still, events were assessed differently had I not been attempting to fit them into a logical, coherent story.

And then there’s the telling of stories, the way we recount these tales in conversation.  We neccessarily adapt them for circumstances, in a way re-writing our own history every time we do so.  And there are times when we’ve told our own story so often that we are, quite simply, tired of it.  So we retire it.  That part of our life, which was once important, gets filed away for future reference.  We find new stories to tell.  Sometimes, we add to old stories, but mostly, we just keep finding stories.

Remind me…

Next time I plan to wear a cotton pleated skirt on a windy day, please remind me that it is not such a good idea. I think more than half of Sydney has now seen my underwear.

Twilight

The Twilight movie finally came out in Australia today, and it’s not that bad.

I have a frustrating relationship with the Twilight series.  I read them before the hooha really got going- thanks to Megan, who introduced me to them.  They are, of course, set in my former home, Washington State, so there is some comfort in the familiarity.  Plus, I was actually in Washington when I read books 1-3.

My problem with the books is simply that they are poorly written.  The stories are utterly compelling, but the way they are written leaves much to be desired.  Plus, Bella is such a weak heroine.  She’s so “Oh, woe is me, I’m clumsy”, defined by her love for Edward and nothing else.  And Edward.  Oh, he’s the right one for Bella, but only because he is equally dull.  All that swooning and mooning.  “I play music” “I play non-moving chess”.

To quote Anne of Green Gables:  “Oh, no. I wouldn’t want to marry anybody who was wicked, but I think I’d like it if he could be wicked and wouldn’t. Now, Fred is hopelessly good.”

Edward, like Fred, is hopelessly good.  Which is funny, considering he’s a vampire.  But after he falls in love with Bella, you never doubt, for a second, he will do anything wrong.  Not even in the anti-climactic final parts of the book.

Anyway, back to why the movie is better than the book.  By the neccessary constraints of budget and time, the film has pared the book back to the barest of essentials.  All the poorly-written mooning has, obviously, been left out, and Bella’s commentary is stripped to those few good moments when Meyer discovered she could actually write.

The film distills the story, and strips out the terrible, terrible writing.  It still has flaws, but it is infinitely better than the rambling, poorly-written novel

Hooray

My Chinese visa has been issued.  My vegan meal for the plane has been ordered.  My frequent flyer number given, my leave approved, my plants stored, my boots re-heeled.

I guess my holiday is really close!!!