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I think holidays are the few times a soap should stop with storytelling and concentrate on family and celebration. To my surprise and delight, that's what head writers Leah Laiman and Carolyn Culliton did on Wednesday's Thanksgiving episode of ATWT. In fact, I'd put that show -- which stood in stark contrast to the rest of the week -- at the top of my list since this team has taken over the writing duties. Yes, there were the usual slips. There were too many overheard conversations (by Tom, Chris, and Adam). There were some awkwardly scripted moments. And since when did Hal's doubts about Margo and his sense of betrayal over her involvement with Alec change? They seemed like best buds again on Wednesday. But overall, the Thanksgiving episode wonderfully blended a lot of cast members and contained some truly heartwarming moments. As Holden bonded with Abigail, happily taking a picture of his daughter and Molly, Lily slipped outside and called Denise. She was missing Hope, missing that connection that Holden was feeling with Abigail. It was a great series of small moments, understated and pure. Memories of that moment resurfaced when Lily later asked Lucinda to put away the cellphone. Lily wanted her Mom there -- in the present, with her mentally and physically. Holden was doubly blessed this day. Not only did he get to spend time with Abigail, but he also got to see Hope. Jon Hensley deserves a real storyline, and I hope some of what happened these past two weeks has positioned him for that. Wednesday's episode focused on three major groupings of family and friends. To the side was Jake and Julia. They spent Thanksgiving locked in a warehouse. They talked of tuna and revenge. They found a door and a body. Other than relishing in Annie Parisse's exotic beauty, I didn't enjoy it too much. But it should be noted that some story moment did unfold on Wednesday, too. Most surprising, I admit, was the wonderfully scripted voiceover by Bob which was heard as the camera moved from one Thanksgiving celebration to the next. There were many beautiful lines in that monologue, but my favorite (and for me, the most moving) was this: "And of all the blessings for which we give thanks, love is the greatest and the most profound." If the writers can script words like these for a special Thanksgiving episode, why can't they do it every day? I included the word "special" in that last sentence, because that's what this episode felt like to me: A special effort by the writers. Nevertheless, the writers should be applauded for giving us a Thanksgiving episode which was traditional, which featured family and friends gathered together, and which reinforced the sense of community that has been missing from Oakdale for a while. I watched most of the episode with a smile on my face. And for that, writers and Executive Producer Christopher Goutman, I thank you. In the past I have sometimes been able to identify a theme that ran through a week of episodes, tying them all together in a tight bundle of good story. It could range anywhere from one or more adjectives (hope, perseverance, forgiveness) to a larger thematic thread (for example, three women at a crossroads in their lives). This week it was. . .digging and dirt. When Jake was asked on Tuesday what his current plans were, he responded, “I’m gonna go dig up some dirt on Mr. Wallace.” On Wednesday, Hal told Margo, "I'm gonna keep digging. I will. . Right through to trial, if necessary." To which Margo replied, "Digging. It's funny you should use that word. It's what I've been thinking about a lot, lately." And no wonder! On Monday, in a scene that quickly crossed into high camp hilarity, Margo pawed ferociously in the dirt at Alec’s grave. What made the scene even funnier for me was that Margo had just defaced Alec’s grave last week! (Head writers Leah Laiman and Carolyn Culliton love repetition. Maybe that’s their major theme.) Prior to this, in a dark bedroom chilled to the freezing point (shades of “The Exorcist” as breath lingered on the air), Margo kept seeing Alec, first in her room, then outside the window. “I’m being haunted by the truth,” Margo said as Tom tried to comfort her. Tom, however, put things into better perspective. Tom: “The ghost is your returning memory.” He then encouraged Margo to summon Alec back up again, this time in the den. Once she had begun, Tom stated (prophetically, perhaps), “You keep going. I’ll just turn up the heat.” So lo and behold, what did Ghost Alec have Margo do? Dig in the dirt some more, this time in a potted plant. Never ones to believe in subtlety, Laiman and Culliton then had Tom exclaim, “You’re digging at this, you’re clawing away at the secret.” Hands down, that was the howler line of the week. To booster the flimsy writing, mood (the music, the tight close-ups) and atmosphere have been inserted in large quantities. The cold, the solid, dark-colored clothing worn by the principals (lots of grays and blacks), Alec’s blood-drenched shirt, the word “buried” written in snow, the emphasis on the gravesite - I think the writers are trying to shroud the story in the gothic. They have touched on the supernatural and the dark, psychological plot elements. Yet the story remains more visual than visionary. It’s style over substance, which is why some scenes quickly veer into the comical. It’s not just Margo who has to keep digging deeper. The writers need to do some creative digging, too, not only for depth, but also for originality. The one storyline - the aftermath of Alec’s murder - puttered steadily along. Blanketing it were the usual daily set pieces and conversations stretched out over entire episodes like a big glob of taffy being pulled to the breaking point. ATWT is still plagued by the same three major demons. (No, not EP Christopher Goutman and head writers Leah Laiman and Carolyn Culliton!) The demons I’m referring to are a lack of story, a lack of originality, and endless repetition. One of my biggest complaints about the show right now is how the writers will take one conversation and stretch it out over four or five scenes (i.e., the entire episode). This is lazy, unoriginal writing that will, over time, become intolerable. Further, it’s insulting to the audience. Holden and Molly had one conversation on Monday (Where did Abigail go? Is she alright?). Chris and Molly had a conversation about Chris’ fantasies, his taxi fares, and Abigail’s Olympic equestrian dreams. Their talk could have been done in two tightly written and intimate scenes. Instead it went on and on and on like the Energizer Bunny pounding on its drum. If all it takes to make the audience happy is to have Jack and Carly talk for an entire episode at Al’s Diner (or at the farm) and then have them kiss in the next to last (or last) segment, believe me when I say that you’ll never get anything more. Carly and Jack talking and flirting, or Abigail and Chris talking and flirting, or Julia and Jack’s latest escapade and snappy banter will get old quickly and begin to bore even the most diehard fans of the couple(s). And is that all you want? The rare episodic conversation is fine. But daily? Continuously? Relentlessly? The only other alternative Laiman and Culliton offer are single day plots that resolve themselves by the end of the episode. Tuesday offered an excellent example. Milk was spilled on Jennifer’s science project and also ruined Barbara’s designs. Baby Parker needed attending, too. By episode’s end, Jennifer had turned in her paper in perfect condition, Parker was fed and happy, and while Barbara might have been asleep at the kitchen table, she did manage to start a sketch or two. The End. I’m not saying that realistic, homespun scenes aren’t needed on a soap. They are. But they need to be woven in and around unfolding storylines. They shouldn’t BE the story. Now I’ll ask an even simpler question: If past plotting was so horrible and the story so poorly conceived and written, why are we getting those same stories immediately repeated again? Carly had millions and lost it. Laiman and Culliton took great pains to humiliate Carly over and over (yes, humiliate her) only to now have her come into a million dollars. We’re right back where we started. Molly was working at WOAK on “In Your Face”. That was dropped, inexplicably and suddenly, so Molly could have a career as a journalist. But now, just as suddenly, just as inexplicably, Molly is the new anchor woman at WOAK. We’re right back where we started. Emily wanted Tom. Emily. . .still wants Tom. Lack of creativity? You bet. Repetition? Endless, mind-numbing repetition. But all this repetition and circling isn’t even founded on any unfolding story that I can see. So if past story was so horrible, then why is our current writing regime so readily embracing it in ways big and small, and within mere months into their tenure? “Surprisingly adequate.” That’s how Emma described Carly’s hammering skills. Appropriately, it’s also how I would describe this abbreviated week on ATWT. The dialogue on ATWT has improved - not a lot, but some. The biggest and most welcome change has been the drop in cliché lines. There is also not as much parroting of dialogue back from one character to another. The decibel level has softened, too. Have you noticed - thankfully -- that there’s a lot less shouting and histrionics going on? (I didn’t say it had disappeared.) The writers are actually trying to write some real conversation between the characters and not relying so much on cutesy repartee. Now, and in keeping with the theme of the week, the writers need to dig deeper to make the dialogue more substantive. The conversation still remains very basic. For example, Carly and Emma had a talk about truth this week. Emma: “Truth is. . .a way of life. It’s the way you feel about yourself. It’s how you behave toward other people.” Carly: “I know that, Emma.” At that point, I sat up, my interest piqued, my fingers crossed, waiting for Emma to go on, to hear what would follow that would enrich the scene and take it below surface level. Instead, Emma just shook her head, chuckled and said, “Oh, Carly. . .Carly!” in a bemused sort of way and then went back to her calculations. Opportunity missed, the ball dropped. Another excellent example was Carly’s short monologue to Jack on Tuesday: “I’m not going to win any ribbons at the county fair. But Emma has taught me a lot. You know, she’s so clear on what’s important and what’s not. She takes care of what is, she’d give her life for it.” What did Carly REALLY say? Nothing. What did Emma teach her? What are those things that are important? What are the moral foundations (I’m assuming) that Emma is so clear about? Carly gave lip service to Emma’s impact on her life. But the writers didn’t script anything deeper that would have taken us to the crux of the matter. If the writers rely only on superficiality, or use the already built-in emotional power of a scene without burrowing deeper for the CONNECTION that’s needed, then the show will eventually be drained of the real emotional depth that makes the audience respond beyond the initial impact of the moment. Hey, it’s not hard to wring a few tears from a comatose patient with his family surrounding him. What’s difficult is to keep those tears flowing after the scene is over, to keep it lingering in your mind, to have you replaying the words in your head and relishing the fact that you were moved. That should be accomplished, not just by the circumstance, nor just by a touch or embrace, but also with the dialogue. The situation will bring you to tears. But it’s the WORDS that will keep them flowing. And sometimes, it doesn’t take that many words. (Former head writer Lorraine Broderick knew the value of silence and restrained elocution.) There’s a world of difference between “simplicity” and “simple”. So are the writers doing enough by just giving you the situation (Tom near death with Lisa and Bob bedside)? Shouldn’t they go the extra mile, to make you weep instead of shed a tear or two? I think so. I’m not saying that every conversation should make you cry buckets. Good dialogue and interaction written from character will also make you smile for one of dozens of reasons, or make you savor a plot point, or perhaps even recoil at a character’s words or actions. Now think back to Carly and Emma’s scenes on Monday. They were all superficial. Sure, they had a little warmth, some bemusement - pretty much the built-in stuff from the situation (contrived as it is). What the writers missed yet again was the opportunity to have these characters really interact. But why use character and words to show a side of Carly not usually seen when it is so much easier and simpler to have Carly click-click-click on the calculator and show Emma that she’s been overcharged for feed? Laiman and Culliton alway s choose the easiest route. Which is why instead of real character interaction, we instead got the sounds of a calculator humming and the occasional sip of homemade wine. Surprisingly adequate? No. In retrospect, I’ve decided to change my mind. It was just adequate. Which, with Laiman and Culliton, is not surprising at all. Odds N Ends:
Grade for the Week: C+ |
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