If revenge is a dish best served cold, then regret is a dish always eaten in the cold. I refer, of course, to the chilled, lonely nights when couples lay side-by-side longing for those initial torrid nights filled with sin and sweat.
And so it is with Brothers and Sisters and me. I treasure those early memories -- the butterflies in my stomach as you coyly lured me into your world. We shared misery (the loss of both Norah's William and Julia's little William) and joy (Kevin's and Kitty's not-so-private lives, not to mention a memorable dinner or two).
You introduced us to interesting characters in entertaining predicaments. You provided your actors with scenes that showed their talent without ever being show-off-y. You held all 12 million of us in the palm of your hand -- making us laugh in one moment and cry in the next. You gave us clearly flawed characters who were, if not always loveable, then at least likeable; if not always captivating, then at least intriguing.
And then came Season Three and a ratings slump due to such stellar stories as:
The Nora Improbably Takes a (Semi-) Married Lover Fumble,
The Dark but Ultimately Not Terribly Interesting Deconstruction of Kitty-and-Robert,
The Let's Stick Balthazar-I-Mean-Tommy in a Mexican Commune Follies, and
The Ryan Debacle.
And so it was with trepidation that I watched the first episode of the fourth season. Predictably, I was on pins-and-needles waiting to see if it would be Justin or Rebecca who would be wounded/killed by The Evil Speeding Blue Car of Doom and Destruction. Instead, dear writers, you gave us your version of the Sopranos finale -- the moment when millions of Sunday night television viewers across the country shout at their television sets: WTF??!!
You have pointedly positioned R&J as the Bridge o' Peace and Harmony between the two families ... or at least between Nora and Holly. It might have been Great Drama to watch these formidable women working together toward helping R&J through a devastating ordeal -- sometimes fighting, sometimes play-fighting and mugging for a smile from their destroyed kids, but clinging desperately to one another throughout the pain, fear, loss, and grief. You might have given both of these great actresses some seriously great scenery-chewing storyline.
But maybe good drama is too much to ask for? Yes, far better to give us the 18,000,000th iteration of The Dinner Party Gone Wrong during which Nora and Holly eviscerate one another. I no longer believe that the other actors in these scenes are in character when they roll their eyes. They're all wearing Been-There-Done-This tee shirts beneath their costumes.
If I'm honestly to believe that two reasonably intelligent, relatively "together" women like Holly and Nora can't have managed to move on a bit more than this retread, then William Walker was glad to take that eternal plunge into the Great Blue Swimming Pool in the Sky. He had clearly recognized that both women he loved had the capacity for emotional growth of a gnat.
Writers, you have one of the best ensemble casts ever assembled. Use Them or Lose Them. It's a brand new season, so put The Season of Craptastic Television behind you to write funny, tragic, compelling, entertaining scenes. Force the actors to bring their A-game every day. Bring back the B&S I once loved because, dammit, I've lost those lovin' feelin's. Help me to once again enjoy those it's-Sunday-night-wonder-what's-gonna-happen tremors of excitement, the half-thrilling and half-sickening anxiety of panting puppy love. We do still love you, B&S, but you've gotta show us a little love, too. I hear your competition, two little shows you might have heard of called House and Mad Men show their viewers lots of love!
Cordially,
Tess
No comments:
Post a Comment