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Think of ATWT as the two pieces of jewelry so prominently featured in the Lily/Simon/Rose fiasco headlining our beloved soap. One piece is the real thing, a diamond worth millions. The other is a fake - “paste”, as handsome Simon called it on Tuesday before flinging it the length of the boxcar where he and “Lily/Rose/Beloved/Whoever She is Now”were trapped. An episode of ATWT consists of three-fourths imitation quality - television paste, if you will -- and one-fourth the real thing. The show swings wildly between good and bad, but those swings are as rare as they are extreme. Mostly the ATWT pendulum drags doggedly through the bad, mired in featherweight storylines that are picked up and dropped at will (example: Carly’s disappearance) or unfold in herky-jerky spurts (example: Emily buys the Intruder). When that pendulum swings upwards into greatness (as it did on Tuesday in the heartbreaking scenes between Kim and Molly at WOAK), I want to reach out and clutch onto something that will keep me (and the show) there for longer than a minute or five. I want to hold on to great scenes and good dialogue with the same tight-fisted grip that Simon would use on that diamond if and when he ever gets his hands on it. For me, it now seems foolhardy to keep hoping the ATWT quality pendulum will swing even higher beyond occasionally good and into excellence. ATWT at its best under Executive Producer Christopher Goutman and head writers Leah Laiman and Carolyn Culliton has never managed to swing beyond the sporadic good. Gone are the days when the show was consistently good and frequently excellent. The pendulum has swung backwards, reversing the order and miring the audience in the dreadful, the mouth-agape implausible, the silly and the trite. Gone are stories weighed in substance, emotion, and power. But. . .But. . .(say some viewers). . .the past was too dark, too heavy, too serious. Yes, it was. No doubt. The medium is, after all, daytime DRAMA. And that’s how this viewer craves his daytime drama: Realistic. Serious. Dark. Emotionally heavy. Involving. I want stories of substance and power that sweep me up and take me along on a glory ride of great dialogue, great plotting and great characters. I want a soap to make me feel from the sheer force of the storytelling. I want a soap to take me through all the ranges of emotions, good and bad, horrific and harmonious, Heaven and Hell. Lorraine Broderick’s World was indeed often dark and weighted down under a cascade of tears and a heavy blanket of various emotions. Too dark, sometimes? Perhaps for some, but not for me. Broderick took risks - e.g., breaking up Tom and Margo, trying an umbrella story (Reid/David), bringing on a Synder who was a former hustler. Broderick made you feel, and sometimes took you to places you probably would have not voluntarily ventured (Camille’s breast cancer ). Yet I can’t recall one Broderick storyline that did not eventually emerge into the bright light of love, joy, and optimism. I can’t recall one storyline where tears shed didn’t serve at some point to symbolically wash away the sadness and the darkness, to eventually reveal a story canvas painted in new shades of hope, happiness, and light. And for this viewer, that was infinitely more satisfying than Bryant stringing “pool shark” Abigail along while seducing shy virgin Jennifer, or the embarrassingly silly journey into Lily’s heritage that so far has featured diamonds, showgirls, boxcars, and big feet encased in animal print shoes. Lily’s story has taken us all the way from the turn of the century to Australia to Atlantic City. Yet it is has not once taken us into Lily’s soul. To think I had actually hoped we would be seriously exploring Lily’s character and her past! No, there’s nothing dark, dramatic, or serious about the Lily/Rose saga. Hey, it’s as light as air! It would take a lot of glue, or, if you will. . .paste. . .to hold this story down. Right, Simon? Even with Hogan Sheffer (real or pseudonym version) assisting Leah Laiman and Carolyn Culliton - a trumpet blaring statement to the talents of this writing team - the writers still struggle daily for consistency in quality. I’m all for continuing the Julia/Jack/Carly triangle, if for no other reason than it divides the audience into friendly camps of opposition over who is best for our hero Jack. Beyond that, the contrasts between Julia and Carly propel the story beyond the standard triangle, and there is plenty of past history to be mined (as was hinted at on Wednesday, e.g., Reid/David). Yet the writers always forget about setting a story and then pacing it from point A to B. It’s like much of the scenes are written as an afterthought. Julia and Jack went from “pretend dating” (groan!) to dating to intercourse to moving in together in a flash. Jack told Julia on Wednesday, “You are the woman that I want. Don’t you know that?” How could she know that? I didn’t know that! Julia and Jack haven’t renewed their relationship on-screen. They’ve just shared some scenes and announced to the audience that they’re a couple! If the writers ignore setting the initial groundwork for ANY story action, then they might as well just throw out the story because so much credibility is lost. And that’s exactly what has happened and is happening, as evidenced by, e.g., the Chris/Abigail horror show, the Rose/Lily/Simon mess, and the aborted - for now, anyway - Camille/Isaac romance. Not that reuniting Jack and Julia hasn’t yielded some good material. It has, including the aftermath of their second lovemaking on Wednesday. What is it about a woman wearing nothing but a man’s cotton plaid shirt that is so dang sexy? Annie Parisse was the embodiment of fresh, beautiful desirability parading around Jack’s house. Later, when Jack shared with Julia the news Hal brought that Carly might be returning to Oakdale, the look on Parisse’s face spoke volumes, as if the past year was replaying before her eyes. It was a great moment, but ruined by the stupid line of dialogue the writers gave Julia. (“I assume we won’t be addressing party invitations.”) The current Jack and Julia represent an ongoing and aggravating problem with this writing team: Throwing people together willy-nilly to serve story, or throwing people together without a story at all. It’s what hampered the Jake and Julia connection (isolation, too much loud, cutesy bickering and no story). It’s what has temporarily halted Camille and Isaac’s relationship (no defined character for Isaac and no supporting story). It’s part of many problems that sabotaged Chris and Abigail. In fact, name one original story by this writing team, or one couple that was not solidified as a couple under a previous writing regime, that has worked under Goutman, Laiman and Culliton. I’m drawing a blank. On Wednesday, Jack said to Julia, “You’re a writer, Lindsey. You’re supposed to create drama.” I wish the G-man had given that advice to Laiman and Culliton instead. Paul Leyden is the latest victim of the Laiman/Culliton hack job. Those of you who saw Leyden as a presenter on the Daytime Emmy Awards may have had the same reaction I did: “Who is that sexy, awesome looking man with Martha Byrne?” Well, it was Leyden - real life Leyden, without the goop in his hair, freed from the one-note caricature known as Simon. Leyden is a good actor, probably better than we even realize considering the narrow confines of the material he is given. Pigeonholed in a story with Martha Byrne (who is suffering as well from the material), isolated from every other character on the canvas, Leyden is trying valiantly to invest Simon with something tangible. I applaud his efforts because you can really see him trying. Yes, his performances are often wide-eyed, arms flinging showboating. Leyden is overcompensating for the bad material (think recent Elizabeth Hubbard hambone theatrics). Let’s be fair: How many times can Leyden bellow “Give me my diamond!” before Simon descends into the unsalvageable? And that would be a shame, because ATWT desperately needs a big infusion of testosterone. Leyden would fit nicely into the fabric of the show if only Laiman and Culliton would start knitting him in! However, the character of Simon would also need a major overhaul (think early-Molly to present-day Molly) and, unfortunately, this writing team does not appear to have the talent to accomplish that. Don’t blame Leyden or Martha Byrne for the “Lily/Rose/Beloved/Whoever She Is Now” escapade. The problem is a simplistic story full of holes and laugh out loud scenes. There was nothing funny, however, about Friday's "I need a doctah, Simon!" scenes that the writers dragged out for an entire episode. Well, I take that back. It did have one very funny line: Lily/Rose/Whoever She is Now: "You'd let me die. . .right here? In this boxcar?" But instead of working up a head of steam over the inconsistencies and the ridiculousness of this storyline, I’ve made myself promise to just sit back and enjoy it for what it is: a silly, campy little farce. It’s not everyday we get scenes in boxcars, sandbags konking out our heroines, confused identities, and handsome Australians slinging fake jewels. I watch “Lily/RoseWhoever She Is Now” with the same resigned bemusement I watch the amateur and not-very-threatening escapades of Katie and Henry at WOAK. Molly’s “fake” amnesia is no more compelling than Lucinda faking her recovery from the stroke, nor is it any more entertaining. It seems to me that Katie and Henry would be focusing all their efforts on neutralizing Molly (as Henry stated on Thursday) instead of crossing their fingers and hoping her memory doesn’t come back. A few weeks ago Henry seemed to be moving into real and threatening villain territory. Now he’s regressed back to snarky sidekick and he seems to be getting dumber by the minute. There was Henry on Friday blabbing away to Molly about Katie, her career, and just about anything else that could implicate them both. It was dreadful writing. Further, the writing makes Katie completely transparent in her motives (Example: Katie’s scenes with Kim on Wednesday), which by extension would mean that Katie and Henry are fooling no one -- not Kim, not Holden, not Chris, not Abigail. Where, then, is the conflict, the anticipation, the excitement of watching them hatch and implement their grade school schemes? There is none - only the knowledge that one day Katie and Henry will get their just desserts, and already that feels anti-climatic. Watching Molly hide behind memory loss to reconnect with Abigail instead of facing her life and problems head-on doesn’t make Molly the “comeback kid” to me. It’s not even in character with Molly, whose past schemes have always been executed with a no holes barred forthrightness, no matter how dumb those schemes were. Add to the equation the zero chemistry between Teri Conn and Jon Hensley, the entertainingly quirky performances of Trent Dawson (whose Henry, like Simon, is almost tot ally tied to one character) and you have the equivalent of a third-rate romance novel without the panting sex scenes inserted periodically to keep you reading. After wanting a Holden-focused story for so long, I am very disappointed. Jon Hensley is being ill-served here. (Hensley is only marginally better served in the “Lily/Rose/Whoever She Is Now” story, primarily because he gets to interact with adults.) As written, Katie and Henry are kids playing grown-up. They’re about as threatening as Winnie the Pooh and Tigger Too, one with his hand in the honey pot, the other bouncing along on her tail, both heading toward their eventual comeuppance. Since I’m a fan of the serious and dramatic, naturally my favorite stories unfolding on ATWT are the fallout from Andy’s disappearance and the focus and new direction (finally!) in Emily’s life. The scenes on Thursday between Kim and John were weak, but mildly moving nonetheless because of the subject matter and not from what was written. (The segments were too short and sparsely written.) And I definitely could have done without the horribly written "I had a dream last night" sequence on Friday featuring Kim walking around in smoke and fog while Andy called out, "Don't worry, Mom! Don't worry, Mom!" The best scenes on ATWT this week were the ones between Kim and Molly at WOAK. They worked because they were very well-written and had time to unfold. The dialogue was fantastic, and the scenes carried with them memories of the recent and not-so-recent past. When Molly told Kim to never give up on Andy being alive, I was moved emotionally for the first time in way too long when Kim responded: “You are the only one. . . in all this time. . .The only one who’s said that to me.” Featuring a restrained and fragile performance by Kathryn Hays and wonderful supporting work by Lesli Kay, ATWT was for a few brief moments a soap of heart and substance. A simple scene between two people evolved into a floodgate of memories and feelings that took me back to the day Kim extended her hand to a fallen Molly on the Valetta and invited her into the Hughes’ home. So why aren’t Laiman and Culliton giving us a spectrum of stories that will yield many of these types of scenes? Why do Laiman and Culliton demonstrate the ability to write in shades of passion and emotion only to withdraw those pens and revert to their usual bright, primary-only colors of writing? Is it just a fluke? Or is there perhaps one writer on the team who has a gift for writing from character? Speaking of character, one thing that bugs me about the character of Kim is how over the years Kim has evolved into someone who seems a little too superior and righteous as she goes through life. Andy’s “death” -- with the nice twists inserted by Laiman and Culliton -- has knocked Kim around and down a little. Kim is the focal point of this story, which helps explain the recent care and attention taken with the character. Whether dismissing Denise with an air-swipe of her hand, or railing against John, or at odds with Bob -- Kim has reemerged as the good, but very flawed heroine she used to be. She may be one of the moral compasses of ATWT, but Kim isn’t perfect (as Denise recently saw). It was nice the writers reminded us of that. Kathryn Hays has been amazing during this brief transformation. She always plays Kim with great strength of character. This week Hays used her quiet speech and an almost serene stillness to show the heaviness of the burden she was carrying. Say the wrong thing and the sadness in Kim’s eyes hint that she could crumble. Kim may be standing alone -- even on Thursday as she leaned on John -- but she has never stood so tall and with such presence. A lot of the credit for this current evolution in Kim goes to Laiman and Culliton. However, you can not discount Hays’ impassioned work. Everyone involved in the writing and execution of all the Kim scenes this week -- except for that dreadful dream sequence -- deserves a big, loud round of applause. I’m surprised at how much I’m enjoying Chris and Emily! I didn’t like the set-up. Emily is too smart and too savvy to have hired Chris so quickly based upon a few overheard and “staged” arguments between Chris and Tom. But setting a realistic, organized, and slowly executed foundation for a story is never a consideration of Laiman and Culliton, so I’m not going to beat that already dead horse. Chris works for Emily now, and so far their scenes have been entertaining and interesting from the standpoint of the possibilities. The real conflict, as I see it, will be whether Chris can and will double-cross Emily, and/or will Emily slowly and methodically let her guard down enough to allow Chris to see the woman behind the tough, barracuda exterior. How that plays out and shakes out is the real story, the first climax of which should set up the next arc of the story. However, if it happens too fast, believability will be lost, the emotional impact minimized. In the meantime, I enjoyed some good scenes between Chris and Emily on Tuesday and Wednesday. In yet another outstanding performance, Kelley Menighan-Hensley allowed Emily a few seconds of vulnerability. (Emily to Chris: “It’s just so hard sometimes. . .getting everything done. Working, taking care of Daniel. Especially when you know everyone’s sitting and waiting for you to fail.”) Menighan-Hensley seems determined to keep Emily’s vulnerability to a minimum, even when it’s put in the writing and dialogue. She allows the tears, but soon enough Menighan-Hensley sets her jaw, straightens her posture, and you can almost see Emily’s protective wall going back up around her. Paul Korver’s quiet sensitivity is a nice contrast to Menighan-Hensley. However, at some point Korver will need to demonstrate Chris’ backbone. He can’t always wait for it to be on the written page. Korver will need to demonstrate Chris’ inner strength (and his decision to take on Emily) through subtext and/or a more commanding presence. Like many a male who is more pretty than handsome, Korver will need to play against his all-American looks at times for more dramatic impact. He will also need that strength and command to hold his own against Menighan-Hensley, a powerful actress who plays Emily boldly and without compromise, as evidenced by her in-your-face scenes with Jake McKinnon. In fact, the most intriguing combination I’ve seen since Laiman and Culliton have taken over ATWT has been those rare interactions between Emily and Jake. So far Emily is the only character not amused by Jake’s personality and his own smug satisfaction at his wit and style. Emily meets Jake head on, which has created some neat electricity in their scenes. On Thursday, the writers seemed to focus a little on Jake’s character and motivation. Another character possibly heading in a new direction? I’m impressed, and in my opinion, it’s time for Jake to become a real person, not the stand-up comedian commentator he has become on ATWT. And if the writers want to redirect Jake, they should not ignore the sparks between Jake and Emily. After all, Jake has a history of getting involved with blondes (Marley, Paulina, Vicky). Good writing will keep Emily in Jake’s path. Not every scene between them needs to be antagonistic, but where there’s sparks. . . Odds N Ends:
Grade for the Week: D+
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