Oh, Afternoon Television Program, how you toy with me! How you break my heart and fill my heart and anger my heart!
Sweet mercy, what a rollercoaster today's episode was. Should I start with the good and the awesome because I'm super-giddy about it and can't wait to talk about it? Or should I start with the bad so I can get the ranting out of the way and leave you all (well, and myself as there's certainly no guarantee you derived joy from the same things I did) with a little happytime joy on this Halloween night?
Honestly, if this isn't your first time paying a visit to Serial Drama you probably already know what I loved and what I am mad about. I hate being so predictable! Wait! I didn't totally hate the whole business with Aubrey and Rex and Cutter and Stigi. I didn't love it either, but...
Oh it's hopeless. I'm falling right in line with my usual point of view, so why don't we do it the way that feels better at the end and start with the crap.
Ford. Oh, Ford. Saint Doofus of the Martyrdom was on full display today. Y'all, did you know that Ford is a wonderful man? Did you know that he'll do anything for his son? Did you know how magnanimous he is? Did you know that he stands up to mean old bullies who have the nerve to hate him for sexually violating their daughter and preventing her from getting help for her mental illness? Did you know that he rescues the neighbors from flaming bags of dog poo? Did you know that he's so blandly flawless that he's basically a perfect man?
Today was seriously enough to make me puke. And not in a fun too-much-Halloween-candy sort of way (wait, I'm just not realizing I had no Halloween candy. Not cool, world, not cool at all!), but in a every-line-of-his-dialogue-sickens-me sort of way.
And again I need to point out that this isn't about thinking Ford's past sins make him beyond redemption. I don't think that at all. It's about the laziest redemption in history. One day he was a player who was blackmailing serial killers and breaking crazy ladies out of mental hospital, and then next he was a saccharine-sweet, naive, guileless, Dudley Do-Right who never says or does anything wrong because he is just super-duper. You know, I half feel like this is a desperate effort to rehab him with the section of the audience who hates as much as, oh, say, I do. (Because I am on the internet, I know he has a fan club. A huge one. One that thinks he needs no reworking to set him up as a viable and interesting character. I'm not talking about this fan club, as they are more than taken care of already.) I don't mean to overthink how much they actually sit down and try to plot out how to win us over with this guy, but I can't help but feel like they looked at the complaints and thought, "Fine, we'll no longer give them anything to criticize!" and that is just so wrong-headed it makes my stomach turn. No one enjoys Blair or Tea or Clint or Natalie or Todd or John or Dorian (or whoever it is on this show that people like) because they're perfect. Depth, flaws, complications, contradictions. Did Todd catch on as a character because one day he woke up feeling super-guilty about all of the gang-raping and terrorizing and assaulting and accidental-killing and immediately turned into a swell, nice, smiley, schmoopy-goopy Blandy McBlanderson?
I assure you, he did not.