Watch What We Say
90120
By Jason Lee
September 3, 2008
BoxOfficeProphets.com
So what's a self-professed couch potato to do? Well, for starters, why don't you let BOP do most of the work for you? This fall, we'll take a look at every new show from the five broadcast networks. Armed with some strong coffee and our beloved TiVo, we'll slough through the entire slate of freshman dramas and comedies, weeding through the trash to find the new shows that are (surprise, surprise!) actually worth your time and energy.
This week on Watch What We Say: A return to the most famous zip code on the planet.
Let me first come clean: I am clearly not in the demographic target for The CW's remake (or "update") of Beverly Hills, 90210. I fall in that Generational Dead Zone between adults who watched the original series on Fox back in the '90s and teens who aren't even aware that The CW used to be two separate networks. I possess neither nostalgic fondness for the old actors nor eagerness to see the budding new pre-pubescent stars – though I admit, I am wondering whether the actresses on 90210 will have the stereotypical "every girl in Beverly Hills has an eating disorder" thinness about them.
As a 90210 newbie, with my familiarity limited to SNL parodies of Beverly Hills, 90210 and ubiquitous 90210 swimming pool billboards plastered at every intersection in Los Angeles nowadays, I am not sure what to expect as the 8:00 pm hour approaches. Montages of fast cars and palm trees, perhaps? Quick shots of Paris Hilton-wannabes clutching Fendi bags and small dogs? Though my voice might already sound tinged with the faintest traces of cynicism, I promise you, I am trying my best to stay open and objective. Who knows, I might even find that I like 90210!
The show opens with the unmistakable orchestral beats of Coldplay's "Viva la Vida" . . . though how semi-melancholic British rock-pop transports viewers into the world of Beverly Hills, I'm not sure. Shots of fast cars? Check. Palm trees? Check. Paris Hilton-wannabes? Check but without the dogs. The show isn't even a minute old and I already feel like I know where it's going.
Not that the show's writers aren't trying. The dialogue is coming rapid fire, heavy with exposition and stylized California teen-speak. Each character (and there are many) is set up quickly and efficiently, allowing the show to move briskly through a complex character ecosystem during the opening 20 minutes. I'm trying to stay vigilant to the moment when this show becomes tiresome and boring. "Do I care about what's going on?" Not yet, but I'm interested so far.
I can't shake the nagging feeling that I know all of these characters already. Every person brought on screen (and then quickly hustled off) feels like they've been ripped off from other teen dramadies – the blond social queen from Mean Girls, the slacker druggie from Clueless, the nice and sweet brunette from The Breakfast Club who's trying to conceal the fact that she's also smart, the dumb horny jock from American Pie . . . they're all here. I know this is supposed to be a remake of the original Beverly Hills: 90210 but I have a suspicion that the plagiarism runs a little deeper than that.
One thing is readily apparent: this is a world under the iron rule of hormones and pheromones. Students, teachers and parents alike are all impossibly attractive and almost every conversation (student to student, parent to teacher, student to teacher, etc.) has an undercurrent of sexual tension. One scene in particular, in which an underage student hanging out at a bar runs into a teacher that has been overly strict with her, felt overcast with the danger of statutory rape.
But through all this, the question persisted: Do I care about any of this? Despite all of this sexual excitement, my honest answer is "no." Maybe it's because I loathed my own time in high school but I soon tire of the shallow sensibilities and trivial problems of these characters. It just seems to me that in a time of economic chaos, with news dominated by two political parties jockeying for position in advance of a crucial election and the whole southeastern coast of our country battered by hurricanes and storms, having your friend copy your term paper without you knowing and dealing with bullies at lacrosse practice just don't feel like enormous life issues. I have limited patience for vapid characters (teens and adults alike) that immaturely blow problems out of proportion for the seeming enjoyment of their audience. At least with Buffy the Vampire Slayer, it really was the end of the world.
At the 45 minute mark, I'm already counting down the minutes until it's over. Unfortunately for me, this is a 2-hour series premiere.
As the show progresses, my pen slows. I'm finding less and less to write about because frankly, I'm getting a little bored. I pay half-hearted attention as characters weave the webs that will catch them in their own deception and watch passively as they walk right into their own sticky messes. I am also running out of synonyms for "superficial."
Then, all of a sudden, a character gets a phone call that rocks me in my seat: her trash-talking grandmother has gotten into a car accident. The elderly woman was driving to pick up a laptop from the repair shop, a task that the teenage girl was supposed to do but didn't because she was on a private jet to San Francisco for a first-date with the school's resident musical theater hunk. It is a moment of moral transgression that has resulted in real human tragedy. Do I care? Surprisingly, I do.
But as quickly as the moment arrived, the moment is gone. Upon returning from commercial break, the girl and her parents are remarkably relaxed and unconcerned as they mount a stairway to the room where the grandmother lies in bed, unscathed and laughing raucously as she jokes with a friend. There is no emotional weight, no real remorse, no fear for the health of this woman. In fact, the mother seems far more upset that her daughter flew to San Francisco without asking permission (!) than about the automobile accident involving her mother-in-law.
I don't hate these characters. I just, well . . . I look down on them. I feel nothing but disdain for them. I fear the idea that teens around the country could have any reason to A) look up to these characters B) admire these characters or C) relate to these characters. In this glossy 90210 world, the cup runneth over with insipid shallowness. At one point, the main character muses to herself, "It must suck getting old." Well, honey, if getting old means that I can turn off The CW and stop watching this crap, then it's not all that bad.
Watch What We Say rating: One TiVo
Watch What We Say: Rating System
Four TiVos: This is television content raised to the level of a transcendent art form. Not only should you TiVo this program for yourself, you should keep it on your TiVo for future generations to watch and savor.
Three TiVos: This is a very good show with a regular spot in my TiVo rotation. I watch every week and will often invite my friends over to share the enjoyable experience.
Two TiVos: I'll TiVo this show if I need something to watch while I'm folding laundry or dusting furniture.
One TiVo: I actively dislike this show and never allow it to take up space in my TiVo. Often times, I'll gripe about the show's producers, ridicule the actors and lambaste the network for keeping it on the air.
Zero TiVos: If this show is on, I unplug my TiVo for fear that the show is accidentally recorded and my entire home entertainment system gets contaminated with this malignant, diseased trash.