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From the film "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane": "But cha ahr, Blanche. Ya AHR in that chair!" Andy wheeled back into Oakdale a few weeks ago, crippled as a result of a plane crash he survived. Now the same thing has figuratively happened to his storyline – Executive Producer Christopher Goutman and co-head writers Leah Laiman and Carolyn Culliton have shattered the emotional resonance of the Ben/Denise/Hope/Andy story by relying on a combination of pity and plot contrivance. Despite Andy’s determination to take charge of his recovery (as written), despite the forthrightness of Scott DeFreitas’ performance, and no matter how forcefully DeFreitas maneuvers that wheelchair around, the fact remains that Goutman and Laiman/Culliton have performed another figurative castration. How humbling to have to ask the man who was (and is) the lover of your wife to perform surgery. Ben’s the best, but there has to be someone else who could have done the surgery (even within the realm of soap opera). Why would Andy even want to open that door? "I’m going to trust my heart on this one," Andy told John on Thursday. Fine, but this kind of decision requires your heart and your mind in equal proportions. Obviously the writers are going the predictable route for dramatic impact. But would the conflict have been that much diminished if Andy had decided he didn’t want Ben to perform the surgery? Some would say the writers are showing what an upstanding guy Andy is. Well, there’s upstanding. . .and then there’s a passiveness that bleeds into perceived (or actual) weakness. Male pride may be ego-driven, and it may be too largely embedded in the worst recesses of male machismo, but it is nonetheless a powerful motivator. Maybe that’s why I can’t quite wrap my mind around Andy asking Ben to perform the surgery. It’s a pride thing. It’s a guy thing. Living in the illusion of marriage with Denise notwithstanding, the badge of honor and courage for Andy that I think was Laiman/Culliton’s intent looks more like a badge of incredulous bad judgement and namby-pamby conciliation. The only person Andy truly challenges is his father, and that is done with the safety net of "being right and in the majority." How humbling it must be for Andy to find Ben and Denise together time after time. How humbling for Andy to ask Denise, "You leaving with me?" or something similar, only to be told that she’ll come later or will ride with someone else. As this continues, Andy at some point starts looking like a fool. Wouldn’t the story be infinitely better if all the players were on equal footing? And then there’s Andy giving Denise a promise ring on Thursday! "I understand about Ben," Andy told Denise. "I still have feelings for Molly. I understand how you feel. But you and Hope. . .to me. . .you mean the most." First of all, it was news to me that Andy still had feelings for Molly since they haven’t shared a scene together in months. Secondly, Andy’s actions are taking on an air of desperation and neediness. I can understand a Father doing anything to remain close to his child and to remain a part of the child’s life. But what has Denise really done for Andy without first being pulled into action dragging and kicking? What kind of compassion or concern beyond friendship has she extended that has inspired this blind loyalty from the man? (Andy saw her speaking at his memorial service. Was that it?) These are questions unanswered by the writing, gaping holes in the story that makes it unpalatable. I apologize if this sounds crass, but to my knowledge Andy didn’t lose his balls in Russia. Andy needs a woman (or heck, a male buddy) who is proud to stand by his side, someone he doesn’t have to beg to come and sit with him until he falls asleep at night. The only strength I can see in Andy is in DeFreitas’ straightforward performance. It’s certainly not there on the written page. Cassandra Creech, with her earnest performance, doesn’t have it much better as Denise. It’s impossible to sympathize with Denise. In a well-written scene a few weeks ago, Kim told Denise she’d have to commit to Andy and his recovery fully. There would be no acceptable excuses. So seeing Denise running to Ben, complaining to Ben, apologizing repeatedly to Ben, and then slinking back to Andy makes Denise look more self-centered and wishy-washy than ever. And if that’s part of Denise’s character, then we’re back to the question of WHAT exactly attracts Andy (or Ben, for that matter). Whenever Denise does try to clue Andy in (as she attempted on Thursday) it’s aborted by an interruption of some kind. In any event, it’s a no-win situation because Denise has ceased to exist as her own person – she’s lost every one of her distinctive traits – and has become an object in the Andy/Ben tug-o-war. Ben laid it on the line on Wednesday. Stop the insanity, he told Denise, and stop the lying. It was a controlled and powerful performance by Peter Parros, quality work in scenes that illustrated how watered down this story has become. I’m tired of John being the lone voice of dissent on every issue, from suing for custody of Hope to recommending physical therapy instead of surgery for Andy. It’s a repetitive, worn out record and it typecasts John rather than illuminates a specific character trait. John should not be the poster boy for the minority or the "wrong choice." John does occasionally make good decisions. He can be a good friend. (Ask Camille, even given some of the Hell John’s put her through.) John gives sound advice. And – most of all – he loves his children and has lost one son (Johnny) in death and another (Parker) due to Carly and Molly’s lies and machinations. That’s the past and recent history that shapes John and his actions. Laiman/Culliton insist on using John as the whipping boy of "opposition" – what not to do, what path not to take as decreed by them. That cheats the character and the audience. Further, the audience does not need the writers telling us how to feel or who or what to support. It’s insulting and it usually backfires. (Example: Chris/Abigail being deemed the next Lily and Holden and their love being blessed by everyone on the show, including Nancy.) On Thursday John was in pure "opposition armor" for most of the show, threatening Bob with a lawsuit and tearing into Ben. Well, sorry, writers, but in spite of "everyone else" thinking surgery was best and Ben was the one to perform it, I sided with John on whether Ben should operate on Andy. It’s Andy’s decision and I don’t doubt Ben’s integrity for one second. But there are ethical and personal issues here that ought to trouble everyone involved. Kim seemed satisfied based on one short conversation with Ben a week ago, which struck me as odd. I was impressed that the writers at least surfacely addressed it on Thursday in the scenes between Bob and Ben. When Bob asked Ben why he wanted to operate on Andy, Ben replied, "Because I’m the best. I can help Andy walk again." Well, that’s in character for Ben, who has always been egocentric. But when Bob pushed the point – Bob: "Your patient is with the woman you love." – the writers dropped the ball in Ben’s response: Ben: "I can do this." Later, however, the writers had Ben elaborate: "If someone else were to perform that surgery and Andy ended up stuck the rest of his life in that wheelchair, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself." Okay, fine, but that still doesn’t answer the ethical questions involved – to my satisfaction, anyway. By blanketing this story in a "them versus us" mentality -- "them" being John and "us" being the rest of Oakdale -- the writers have skirted the ethical and personal issues of the story rather than addressing it fairly from all sides. With Goutman and Laiman/Culliton, there is no such thing as too much repetition. In their World, it’s repeat, repeat it again, and then repeat it some more. With the memories of the dreadful Chris/Abigail/Molly story still fresh in our minds, TPTB nonetheless dusted off the 20 and 16 dating and coupling plot again. This time, however, there are a few minor twists that might – might – make it work. At the center remains Abigail, now morphed into a pool shark who wears make-up and tube tops and who seems to be ready for a walk on the wild side or, at the very least, on its fringes. Bryant is the 20-year old who looks at least 25 and who apparently prefers girls to women. Into the "other" role steps Jennifer -- boy-naïve, virginal, and written as alternatively happy or mopey (depending on her proximity to Bryant). It’s Girl/Man/Girl’s Best Friend instead of Girl/Man/Girl’s Mother. I’m hoping that the writers won’t go down the same route as before, a road that would eventually lead to Abigail wailing to Bryant, "You’ve slept/dated/kissed/whatever with my best friend!" with the same shrieking she used on Chris: "You slept with my MOTHER!" Thankfully, Abigail/Bryant is not being written with the saccharine sweet coating that mired down Chris/Abigail. In fact, there’s no love in this story at all. Bryant is using Abigail, playing on her vulnerabilities while padding his wallet. (In a neat little story nuance, I don’t even think Bryant is giving Abigail a cut of the dough!) Bryant does seem interested in Jennifer, but only as long as she’s not intrusive in his personal life (another good developing component). Obviously that’s not love. Unfortunately, the writers have yet to explain what exactly draws Bryant to Jennifer. Nailing a virgin? Thrill of the chase? Another notch in the belt holding up those leather pants? On Friday, Bryant said there were "a gazillion" things he liked about Jennifer. Well, we need to know a few. Not knowing what draws Bryant to Jennifer is a major flaw in this story and a critical component to making the story work. It needs to be clearly established in order to sustain the conflict and our interest. Now I need to stress something: A lot of what I’ve outlined above has been inferred more than actually realized on-screen. The writers could very well have nothing more planned for these three than a variation of Chris/Abigail/Molly and Fridays scenes between Jennifer and Bryant seem to point in that direction. You need to remember that this writing team does not do multi-layered stories. Most of Laiman/Culliton’s work is basic and simple and rarely delves into human psyche. In fact, the little nuances I’ve detailed above playing out in Bryant/Abigail/Jennifer seem more accidental than actually planned. Another drawback to this story is that it features three woefully under-developed characters. There was a reason Abigail disappeared from the canvas for a while. One, the audience had overdosed on her during the Chris/Abigail horror show. Two, the writers needed to regroup and focus on Abigail from a different angle, retooling her in yet another attempt to endear her to the audience. Jennifer is not even one-dimensional. She’s just there. Bryant – the most promising of these characters – remains mostly an attitude, no more defined than Isaac or Simon. I’m only assuming that Bryant is a hot, self-centered manipulator whose shell won’t eventually crack to reveal a heart of gold. Though Todd Rotondi looks too old to be playing 20, I like his wide-smiling, self-assured portrayal of Bryant. Rotondi’s Bryant has no problem working Matthew with the same devilish charm he uses on Abigail, Lucinda, and every other woman he encounters. Granted, it doesn’t work as often (or as easily) with men. They’re more likely to peg the bull in Bryant’s smooth-talking come-ons. But that doesn’t stop Bryant from trying and trying hard, especially when it’s to his advantage. (Example: The bartender at the pool hall where he and Abigail work their scam.) That’s the key to Bryant as I see him. With his looks and charisma, he’s able to dodge and weave his way around just about anything, rarely paying the consequences. Granted, that type of character takes a while to warm up to, and is difficult to root for. But it makes for great fun to watch . It gives the character of Bryant some neat, spikey characteristics. Laiman/Culliton turned "Rebel Chris" into "Misunderstood Chris". Do we really need another young character in that same mold? Why not someone with some brass and edge? Besides, Bryant is like a lot of young guys. To quote the classic Dire Straits song, he wants "his money for nothing and his chicks for free." On Friday Jennifer accused Bryant of stringing along both she and Abigail. Jennifer: "I thought you were trying to have it both ways. . .And you need to know right now I'm not going to put up with that." Sorry, Jen, but for right now, Bryant *is* having it both ways. Now whether the Bryant/Abigail/Jennifer story is explosive, or merely bombs as Chris/Abigail did, depends on how much effort and risk the writers are willing to invest in the story. Celia arrived in the US with lots of gaudy faux leopard clothing (e.g., shoes, coat), her own small plane and a "friend" to pilot it. Seems like she has plenty of green, so I guess Celia wants that diamond for sentimental reasons. (Raise your hand if you even care!) I watched the Simon/Lily/Celia scenes throughout the week with my jaw dropped, paralyzed by the awful quality of what was unfolding before my eyes. As the story spun ever more wildly out of control, ATWT sunk to an all-time low. It was like watching a straight-to-video movie, one of those hack jobs so horrible it doesn’t merit a theatrical release. The Lily/Simon/Celia scenes unspooled in an amateurish frenzy. The dialogue was delivered in rapid-fire bursts of shouting, a ratta-tatta-tat of words and cliches that pounded the senses into submission. Most of that dialogue was dreadful, recalling the initial months of Laiman’s tenure. Simon to Celia: "You’ve always had ice water for blood." Celia: "And you’ve always been far too nice." The more Celia waved that gun around, always threatening to shoot but never actually pulling the trigger, the more ridiculous and cartoonish she became. Fiona Hutchinson’s performance was a case study in overacting. (Compared to Hutchinson, Elizabeth Hubbard is downright mellow.) Hutchinson played every scene as if she were being zapped by currents of electricity – screaming, mugging, weaving and bobbing back and forth, front to back, then side to side. There’s no doubt Celia’s crazy (Celia shrieking to Simon on Monday: "Sis-TAH always wins!"), but Hutchinson played the part as if Celia needed that diamond as cash for her next drug fix. You gotta hand it to Laiman/Culliton, though: The Celia/Lily/Simon scenes had something for everyone. There was the sibling rivalry with – I think – the hint of incestuous attraction. (Simon to Celia on Wednesday: "You’re the one who taught me to cheat at cards. I’m the one who taught you how. . ." Celia: "How to play games. Oh, we played some really juicy games, didn’t we, Simon?" Celia again on Wednesday: "Simon’s a bit of a tease in the water.") There was also lots of bad dialogue. (See above and also this little nugget from Celia on Monday: "The Frasiers put the FUN in dysfunctional.") There were unintentionally hilarious scenes galore. (Example: When Celia threatened to shoot one of Lily’s fingers off if Lily didn’t start blabbing about the whereabouts of the diamond, Celia held Lily’s hand up near Lily’s face. At that point, losing a finger really wasn’t an issue anymore as much as being shot in the head.) Want more? There was a tied up heroine and a konked on the head anti-hero. And there was plenty of this now – pardon the pun -- "beloved" refrain: "Where is my diamond?!" Who could ask for anything more? Well, I could – beginning with real drama and not what looked like a preview of the upcoming live action Bullwinkle movie! I concede that Paul Leyden’s hands and arms are incapable of being still. But Leyden can act. He’s "there" in every scene and with a better storyline, that screen presence could translate into something tangible and quite possibly wonderful. In Simon, Laiman/Culliton have done Leyden no favors. Nonetheless, Leyden has taken a part with no dimension and no personality and done a pretty good job of keeping his dignity intact while generating some interest in Simon. Tall, dark, and very handsome, I want Leyden to survive the latest Goutman and Laiman/Culliton story catastrophe. I want the writers to – yes, once again – take a step back and rethink the character and start building Simon over again from scratch. As if that’s not enough of a mountain for the writers to climb, the damage to the character of Lily will be even harder to mend. Laiman/Culliton have turned Lily’s past, her heritage, into a big joke, complete with body doubles, diamond in a headdress, dropping sandbags, boxcars, and dives out of planes. That in itself is unforgiveable. Martha Byrne has been surviving on sheer talent alone. She’s playing this storyline dead serious and, frankly, that’s the only way an actress could play it without risking total embarrassment. I can’t think of another actress who could act this crap with the style and commitment to character Byrne has demonstrated. This pathetic storyline doesn’t deserve a star, but it got one anyway. So with the characters of Lily and Simon almost destroyed, where does that leave Rose? Not destroyed, since Rose isn’t a character so much as a caricature. Rose slipped into Lily’s life as easily as a hot knife slides into butter. It didn’t require much of a credibility stretch since Rose is one of many Laiman/Culliton chameleons, able to change personalities, values, jobs, even lives on a whim. But Rose’s continuing charade hinges on the stupid plot contrivance of a misinterpreted phone message. ("I’m with Simon now.") Watching Rose tear into Holden was entertaining and I felt badly for Mr. Snyder. Even better was Holden’s scene with Rose on Thursday where he promised to give her space and all the time she needed to sort things out in their relationship. The scene also provided a brief glimpse into Rose’s character make-up. (Rose: "Dreams don’t come any sweeter than that guy.") So did the great conclusion to Friday's episode where Rose donned a red dress (Martha Byrne looked radiant) and then succumbed to Holden's tender kisses on her neck by turning and planting a real lip lock on him. But Katie as catalyst does not work for me, at least not the way it should. I need those who antagonize – male and female – to have at least the aura of power and entitlement (misguided or otherwise). That’s missing in Katie. For example, it didn’t take Henry long to reassert and reinforce his control over Katie (the scenes in the video room on Tuesday). Even Rose quickly stood up to Katie’s pressure tactics on Thursday, leveling the playing field. That illustrates how weak a "villain" Katie is. Henry is just as weak, having turned into a "Chatty Cathy" about his involvement with Katie whenever Molly asks a simple question. There is no undercurrent of threat in Katie nor Henry’s actions. I don’t believe for one minute that Katie or Henry will be successful in their endeavors, which is critical in a story that spins on a character(s) going after something with no holes barred determination. In a story such as this, the audience has to believe that the manipulative character will succeed, and the outcome should be in doubt up to the last moment. This makes the journey worth it and sets up the next leg of the story in which the character loses all or part of what they’ve gained, the best example being Carly and the $50 million baby story. New head writer Hogan Sheffer should note that the best "villains" or manipulative characters often enjoy success, at least initially. It’s a requirement, actually, to establish the "threat" and drive of the individual. So what do I want regarding Lily/Simon/Rose/Holden Katie/Henry? I want this entire storyline over. Now. I want the characters of Lily and Simon back in Oakdale with some shred of dignity established and reinforced. Then I want new stories for both, together or apart, leading or supporting roles. It doesn’t matter as long as it’s a good story realistically told. I want Holden to remain frontburner, but in a better storyline. Hey, wait: What about Katie and Henry? What about them, indeed? Even though Jack and Julia have been thrown together instead of making their way back to each other realistically, I still enjoyed the scenes surrounding their second go at romance. I know, I know: Jack seemed to "clue" in to Carly’s disappearance overnight. It’s just another example of the amateurish way Laiman/Culliton will drop and pick up story at a whim. I’m also truly tired of hammering away at plot holes and inconsistencies and have, for the most part, abandoned it with this writing team. But I guess I should note that this story, like all the rest, is full of both. Annie Parisse played Julia this week with a quiet hurt. She looked and acted unsure of herself, yet seemed determined to shrug off Carly’s FAXed intrusion into her life. Parisse kept most of Julia’s emotions in check, but nonetheless allowed them to surface through her body language and the inflections she used in the dialogue. Julia: "I saw you, Jack. You left me. . .after we had made love. . .and I saw you with that FAX." And later: "You left my side for Carly. . .that’s what it felt like." Parisse made the emotional connection that made me feel for Julia. Michael Park was, as always, splendid. He, too, played these scenes quietly. Jack: "I had to know. . .I had to know what Carly’s doing now. Or more likely, what’s being done to her." It was an honest answer to the explanation Julia requested. And it made sense, an explanation that was consistent with Jack’s character as someone who will always ride to the rescue of one in need. Getting back to Julia, I’ve always found the character to be most interesting when she is forced or sometimes chooses to do things against her basic good nature. That played out on Wednesday when Carly’s latest FAX arrived. Julia took it and read it. Then – thanks to the look that crossed Parisse’s exquisite face – I knew Julia was going to crumple that note. An excellent moment and – Do I dare hope? – a small portent of things to come. By the way, I should officially go on record as someone who always enjoyed the bitterness between Carly and Julia, especially as written by former head writer Lorraine Broderick. Their sandpaper-irritating disdain for one another was always a lip-smacking good component of the Jack/Carly/Julia triangle. And frankly, I’m so desperate for some real, solid, dramatic storytelling that I say "Bring it on!" This is one story I have no problem going back and doing again. I am ready (and already ducking) for the tomatoes that are going to be thrown at me for that! I know there are viewers that don’t want the Julia/Jack/Carly triangle revisited. In a way, I can understand not wanting to tromp over the same territory. But who says the story has to cover the same ground? I don't think a triangle shouldn’t be resolved until it has been fully explored. I also think the audience was shortchanged – Hold on to your seats now! – by both the Broderick and the Laiman/Culliton writing teams with Jack/Carly/Julia. That there are two camps of almost equally-divided and ardent supporters of both couplings would tend to confirm this. Bottom line: Carly left. Jack didn’t trust their love (or her) enough to question why until several months had past. So they’re meant to be together? Doesn’t seem like it to me. When Jack was with Carly, Julia was an afterthought. When she left, Julia became Jack’s every thought. So they’re meant to be together? Doesn’t seem like it to me. Those very dumb story holes courtesy of Laiman/Culliton are exactly the things that could be explored in both these relationships. I’m not satisfied with how Jack/Carly/Julia has played out. I think there’s more to this story and I’d like to see it told and told a lot better. This is one time I believe we need to revisit the past before we can look to the future. In one scene stretched out to five on Monday, Jake and Molly did the couples dance around each other. The dialogue was horrid – the bicker-bantering this writing team often falls back on. (Jake to Molly on Thursday: "If calling me names is your idea of a peace offering, then you should contact your local terrorists. I heard they’re looking for people.") Well, "bicker bantering" with no supporting storyline is what stalled Jake and Julia and Isaac and Camille. It will stall and eventually kill Jake and Molly before they even have a chance to take off if the writers don’t structure the characters around a story (either together or individually) and have them start to really communicate instead of spew drivel. And in case the writers need any ideas to jump start a story (and we all know they do), I’ve got one word for them: Emily. The back-story has already been started. Jake and Emily share a mutual disdain, but keep crossing paths. Molly and Emily also share a uneasy history. So do Molly and Chris, who now works for Emily. (And for those of you who don’t think Lorraine Broderick wrote humor, I’ll remind you of her CHARACTER-DRIVEN humor with this one line of dialogue by Emily to Molly when Emily did not yet know she was pregnant with Tom’s child: "Bring me the blood of a pregnant woman!") If the writers want to explore Jake and Molly as a couple, then at least set them up for success (not failure) from the outset. Give them both a story.
Grade for the Lily/Simon/Celia Scenes: F |
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