For media junkies like me, I can’t say enough about Netflix. I’ve been exposed to a plethora of films and programs that I never would have seen without those little red envelopes. At times, the experience has been horrifying; John Waters’s “Pink Flamingos” comes immediately to mind. Other times I’ve discovered hidden gems like the surrealist Swedish film “Songs from the Second Floor” and the quiet drama “The Station Agent.”
But the real blessing of Netflix for me is television. Programs that I couldn’t bother to make time for during their initial broadcasts were easily accessible on DVD, and I could watch them on my own time. While shows like Battlestar Galactica and Dead Like Me were/will be perennial DVD shows for me, the one show that became appointment television after first encountering it through Netflix was The O.C.
I know Jasmyne put me onto this, but I can’t remember why. I’m sure that I entered into the whole deal with more than my share of skepticism, but I’ll be damned if the show didn’t win me over. As I often do with DVD shows that I like, I burned through the first season with a ferocious quickness. Now, usually a show like this -- a teen-centric, beautiful-people, prime time soap opera (i.e. Reunion) -- can quickly be identified as one you will either watch or not. But I’d make a case for The O.C. for people who like smart television. Naturally, I don’t mean West Wing smart, but there’s a cleverness to The O.C. that no amount of advertising can get across. Look past the pretty people. This hottie’s got a brain too.
Of course, I was saddened to see that after I began endorsing the show, it faltered in many of the areas in which it excelled for its extended first season. Characters who I loved I began to loath. The humor and wit became too obvious and self-referential. And as with many shows involving likable characters, the writers’ plots didn’t do them justice. Season two ended with a thrilling finale, but even its most ardent fans had to wonder whether the tremendous first year had more to do with beginner’s luck than actual skillful storytelling.
Well, two episodes into the third season of The OC, it feels like things are getting back to normal. The O.C. has passed its probationary period with flying colors, and here are the five reasons why the show has become must-see again.
1. Sandy is back as the moral center of the show (with Kristen soon to follow? Please?)
One of the most refreshing things about the inaugural season of The O.C. was it didn’t dramatize the marriage at the head of the show. On a show where tawdry melodrama would rule, having Sandy and Kristen Cohen as a moral center did wonders for those with a tendency to roll their eyes at these pretty people programs. As honorable as they are likable, their show presented their marriage as perfectly imperfect; it wasn’t without problems, but their squabbles rose out of natural domestic issues (kids, jobs, etc.) rather than TV plotting.
The creators of The O.C. hit the jackpot with Kelly Rowan and Peter Gallagher -- two handsome performers who bring humble performances to a show that thrives on over-the-top dramatics (see #3). We like these two actors, and in turn, like their characters (or perhaps vice versa). Gallagher specifically manages the transition from cooler-than-we’d-like-to-admit dad to serious business lawyer type with aplomb. We enjoy his goofy exchanges with his son, but we still buy it when he throws the gauntlet down against an overzealous DA or his father-in-law. We want this family to succeed and it is easy to get behind them even when they make mistakes, because we know it’s for the betterment of their family.
But in The O.C.’s second season, it seemed the writers didn’t quite know what to do with these two good people. This is drama, after all, and it’s hard to do drama without returning to the big, the obvious, the dramatic. The stuff that’s been done. So we have to watch the two of them tease with infidelity (more infuriating than irritating) before Kristen becomes a full-blown alcoholic. In season one I relished these two characters' time onscreen, but in season two I couldn’t wait for their scenes to be over. Quite a turn-around. Even though I can’t say enough about Kelly Rowan’s performance when her family finally intervened on her behalf, that didn’t quite make up for us having to watch her character arc in the first place.
But season three is two episodes in and already Sandy is back on his high horse (where we like him) defending his foster-son Ryan with his legal troubles and trying to keep his family together with Kirsten away at rehab. Meanwhile The O.C. string of brutal guest stars (in execution not in performance) continues with Jeri Ryan as a rehab buddy who is doing everything she can to keep Kirsten from returning to her family, and again I’m finding myself dreading each moment Kelly Rowan is onscreen -- and that’s just not right. If the producers learned anything from last season it should be that we don’t like foreigners jumping in and disrupting our Cohen family (see Kim Delaney, Billy Campbell). There’s enough drama when they’re together as a family. Stick with that, and we’ll be golden.
2. Old School Ryan Atwood
There is no greater O.C. pleasure for me than watching Ryan Atwood go “old school” and crack somebody’s jaw. Season two, despite a lot of teasing, seemed bent on domesticating the prodigal bad boy. They placed him with a genuinely sweet girlfriend (Shannon Lucio) and edged his character closer and closer to Seth with his emerging witticism. But that’s not the character we’ve grown to love (in a totally manish way).
Benjamin McKenzie has drawn a number of comparisons to Russell Crowe (even on the show) because of his mastery of the slow-burn and his commitment to those moments when he gets to finally go off. Like Bud White, Crowe’s L.A. Confidential alter-ego, Ryan Atwood is a troubled man with a good heart. That’s why we stick with him. We’d like to see him grow into an upstanding young man. But while he’s still a kid, we want that foolish passion to erupt from time to time.
Season three looks like it may give us that. Coming off a ferocious brawl with his brother to wrap up season two, Thursday’s episode concluded with Ryan bloodying the Dean of Discipline’s nose. The slow burn went straight out the window. I could have seen this moment dragging on for several episodes, so when it came I was so shocked and thrilled that I nearly came out of my seat. I was laughing so maniacally my mother thought I had lost my mind. It was a great moment. Now, with Ryan and Marissa joining the ranks of us public school hellions, it appears that Old School Ryan Atwood is here to stay.
3. Julie Cooper-Nichol is Julie Cooper again.
This one I didn’t get until my friend Jasmyne pointed it out to me. Julie Cooper, the central love-to-hate character of Orange County, really wasn’t herself last year. She was, for lack of a better word, castrated by her marriage to the equally love-to-hate Caleb Nichol. With such a contentious relationship between two strong-willed, devious villains, it’s impossible not to take sides, and when we’re taking sides it means one of these delicious characters isn’t living up to their villainous potential. And for the better part of last season, that character was Julie Cooper-Nichol.
For too much of last year, Julie was on the defensive. First the ex shows up with that cheap porn film we all do in our twenties. Then she almost enlists said ex to kill her hubby who’s threatening divorce before the prenup takes hold. But she backs out. Then she considers killing him herself. But she backs out. She’s just a big Machiavellian tease. Where’s the commitment we expect of our bad girl?
Well, she’s back with a bullet. In the first episode, she threatened to smother Ryan’s brother with a pillow if he didn’t falsely claim that it was Ryan, not Marissa, who shot him. That’s how she starts the season? What’s she going to do when the gravy train of Caleb’s estate derails? I’m thrilled by the possibilities.
4. Shooting somebody gave Marissa a backbone.
Mischa Barton is gorgeous. Startling, expressive eyes. Shy grin. Supermodel body. Up until this season, that was about all I could say for Marissa Cooper. Gosh, she shore is perty. The writers had perfect camoflauge for their incompetence with this character -- she’s a teenager. She’s finding herself. The writers can’t find anything for her to do, besides the tired damsel in distress thing, so they pass it off as she’s just a young kid looking for her place in the world. Bulcoughit.
But something has happened to Miss Cooper. Putting a bullet through another person’s spine has, ironically, given her a backbone. Despite being terrified, she stepped into her attempted rapists recovery room to convince him to do the right thing and tell the truth about his shooter. That was something we never would have seen out of her just a year ago, but there she was stepping up for her boyfriend, instead of the other way around.
The moxie wasn’t a one-shot deal, either. She tells her intrusive mother to stay out of her life. When threatened with expulsion from her ritzy private school, she tells the Dean of Discipline she has no remorse for shooting Trey and she’d gladly do it again. And later that same episode, she tells Ryan she doesn’t need his blasted white knight heroics anymore. While I doubt that’s completely true, it’s nice to see her fighting the system solo. Brave choice by the writers that I hope they don’t abandon. If for no other reason I can finally determine if Mischa Barton can actually act. It still perplexes me.
And finally….
5. Summer and Seth are a couple. Keep it that way.
Just as the idea of Sandy and Kirsten exploring marital extra-curriculars bores me, the contrived manipulations the show employed to keep Summer and Seth apart/unhappy through last season aggravated me more than any of last season’s miscues, mostly because I started to develop an intense dislike for Summer. And despite Mischa Barton’s beauty and Kelly Rowan’s class, Rachel Bilson strikes all of my heart’s weak spots: spunky brunette with a sharp wit and a memorable cameo on Buffy the Vampire Slayer (it’s a really short list). So as much as watching her fluster as she fell for the nerdy Cohen in season one was adorable, watching her come up with every ridiculous reason not to reconcile with him was infuriating.
I like to root for couples to succeed. That’s what half of these shows are predicated on. I wanted Ross and Rachel to get together in the end. Ed is still one of my top three favorite shows and the whole thing was about getting Ed and Carol together. So, it’s no surprise that I would root for Summer and Cohen when they’re such delightful comic foils for each other. The show does not lack of a will-they-or-won’t-they couple with Ryan and Marissa in constant turmoil. So it’s imperative that the show find some other function for Seth and Summer.
And they may have done that. In the first episode, while Ryan isolates himself in his pool house, Seth and Summer stand at the window contemplating the next course of action. The banter was classic Seth and Summer without that cloud of pout hanging about it like last year. They seem to be headed for the supportive couple role for their friends, and that's a good place for them to be. By the time Captain Oats (“good listener”) and Princess Sparkle (“just stands there and looks pretty”) showed up to console the recently expelled Marissa, I was committed to liking these two again. Which is a relief. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have Summer in my life.
So, there it is. Five solid reasons to jump back on The OC bandwagon, and I probably could have come up with one or two more. If you had doubts after last season, put them to bed. You haven't missed much. Jump back into Orange County right away. Before those baseball playoffs show up again.
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