So, it's about time we addressed the giant, poorly acted, psychedelic (yet somehow still dull) elephant in the room: The 90210 reincarnation. It may not shock you to hear that Jessica and I cherish the old show, in that we-loved-it-in-its-prime/we-lovingly-mock-it-now/oh-my-God-Emily-Valentine-just-put-U4EA-in-Brandon's-drink-this-can't-end-well/please-David-stop-singing kind of way. But even the addition of Brenda and Kelly (and Jessica Walter playing Lucille Bluth on muscle-relaxants) cannot save the new class.
The show is SO BAD. Like, wow. Last week was about bowling. I'm not even kidding. NOTHING HAPPENS. All the characters are boring, and their conversations are excruciating. About a third of the scenes play out thusly: "Hey." "Hey." "Haven't seen you." "I've been around. How are you?" "Fine." "Well, uh, how's your brother?" "Good." It's like the most terrible, dry raw footage from the world's worst reality show, replete with as many local cultural references shoehorned in there as possible: "I've got tickets to Sea Wolf at Spaceland." "Remember when we were at the L.A. Zoo?" "So, Vampire Weekend is playing a secret show at the Avalon..." "Oh, they just finished renovating the Mark Taper Forum and it's really become a fantastic space." My husband turned to me during last night's episode and said, "It feels like this show is written by L.A. Weekly."
And the clothes. The CLOTHES. Maybe these people would have more interesting conversations if they weren't filled with obvious self-loathing about their wardrobes. Take, for instance, Naomi -- a.k.a. the character played by Drunkface, a.k.a. AnnaLynne McCord. (As always, apologies for the poor quality of the photos.) Now, Drunkface spends most of her time in these episodes stomping into rooms wearing ridiculous shorts and twitching while she plays the exact same story point over and over again.
Here, for example, she has donned her very best bloomers and French-Revolution Aristocrat In Prison shirt in order to tell her mother that Mr. Drunkface is having an affair. The ruffles spill forth from her chest like painful truths from her soul.
Contrast that with the scene in which she stomps into her mother's bedroom to whine about Mr. Drunkface's indiscretion -- a deeply emotional moment for which she chose to dress like a call girl:
The show is SO BAD. Like, wow. Last week was about bowling. I'm not even kidding. NOTHING HAPPENS. All the characters are boring, and their conversations are excruciating. About a third of the scenes play out thusly: "Hey." "Hey." "Haven't seen you." "I've been around. How are you?" "Fine." "Well, uh, how's your brother?" "Good." It's like the most terrible, dry raw footage from the world's worst reality show, replete with as many local cultural references shoehorned in there as possible: "I've got tickets to Sea Wolf at Spaceland." "Remember when we were at the L.A. Zoo?" "So, Vampire Weekend is playing a secret show at the Avalon..." "Oh, they just finished renovating the Mark Taper Forum and it's really become a fantastic space." My husband turned to me during last night's episode and said, "It feels like this show is written by L.A. Weekly."
And the clothes. The CLOTHES. Maybe these people would have more interesting conversations if they weren't filled with obvious self-loathing about their wardrobes. Take, for instance, Naomi -- a.k.a. the character played by Drunkface, a.k.a. AnnaLynne McCord. (As always, apologies for the poor quality of the photos.) Now, Drunkface spends most of her time in these episodes stomping into rooms wearing ridiculous shorts and twitching while she plays the exact same story point over and over again.
Here, for example, she has donned her very best bloomers and French-Revolution Aristocrat In Prison shirt in order to tell her mother that Mr. Drunkface is having an affair. The ruffles spill forth from her chest like painful truths from her soul.
Contrast that with the scene in which she stomps into her mother's bedroom to whine about Mr. Drunkface's indiscretion -- a deeply emotional moment for which she chose to dress like a call girl:
"Mom, I can't believe you're okay with Dad sleeping with another woman. I also can't believe you're okay with me going to school dressed as a square-dancing hooker with a heart of Lucite." Also, she is just so stiff and awkward. Seriously, Drunfkace played this entire scene like her character had a bladder infection. It was weird.
Moving on: What better to wear while confronting your father's mistress than tiny formal shorts?
My Diet Coke can and coffee table reflected in this shot actually IMPROVE the outfit.
And when you absolutely HAVE to stomp in on your mother for the THIRD time -- to tell her all about the confrontation we just witnessed -- naturally you would throw on some tomato-colored hot pants with your white frilly blouse.
Seriously, complete with the hair, it's like she's a '40s war bride from the waist up, and from the navel down, a five-year old at her elementary school's Track and Field day. Maybe, if I cared at ALL about her scenes, the clothes would amuse me a la Blair Waldorf, but instead I just want to hit fast-forward. You, Drunkface, are no Blair Waldorf.
Poor old Drunkface isn't the only one being styled horribly on this bland, banal paean to mediocrity. West Beverly High -- which others might also recognize as the set where Buffy went to high school in Sunnydale -- has been barfed on by a Crayola box:
At least Kelly Taylor and her cleavage look good, but she seems slightly blinded by the fact that the school got renovated by a 5-year old. And the cafeteria? Similar color scheme, plus NEON GREEN PLASTIC CHAIRS and a giant Granny Smith apple painted on one wall. IT BURNS.
And I'm not even DONE YET. There are so many more all-caps statements to come. Because OH MY GOD PEOPLE, EAT:
Jessica "Erin Silver" Stroup looks kind of like Alyssa Milano in this shot. Except for one key difference: Her toothpick limbs. LOOK AT HER ARM. I'm surprised a fireman hasn't tried to slide down it. I could bake a cake and poke that thing in it to test its doneness. Remember those freaky Steve Madden ads where the photos were doctored so the girls had cartoonishly huge heads and feet, but tiny bodies? That's this photo, except she hasn't been altered. If the camera adds ten pounds, then in real life, this woman may occupy negative space. In fact, as we watched, my friend gasped and said, "Can we just inject a sandwich straight into her arm?" This is a magnificent idea. GET HER AN IV DRIP OF BOLOGNA AND CHEESE, STAT.
AND WHILE I AM SHOUTING:
DO NOT BRING THE BOY COOKIES. Has she not seen Center Stage? Does she not REMEMBER that Jodie Sawyer brought Cooper Nielsen some poignant and flirtatious Cookies For Next Time while he was talking to his ex-girlfriend, and that the moment is so uncomfortable and devoid of self-awareness -- and replete with silent boy mockery -- that almost every girl I know has to leave the room when that part happens?
I know, I know, this has nothing to do with what she's wearing and EVERYTHING to do with the fact that I am offended on behalf of Kansas residents, because that this show wants you to believe high-schoolers in taht part of the country are so backwards that they will deliver Snickerdoodles of Lust to their cool-boy crush and hope to come off as anything other than this:
Why, hello, Crazy-Eyes. Have you stalked a boy today? Just be sure to make time for lunch while you're hiding in his shrubberies. If chewing is too hard then just turn some meatballs into a smoothie.
AND THEN FEED IT TO TWIGGY O'HOTPANTS:
If I keep this season pass, I'm going to need serious therapy.
