Serial Drama

Hooray for the Haircut! Now, About That Uber-Creepy "Romance" . . .

Rachel Melvin, finally you have a haircut that does you justice!

So adorable.  And SUCH an improvement.

Shawn Christian, you are still hot,

but please 1) get a haircut, and 2) urge the powers-that-be to give you a romantic storyline opposite an actress who was born before Reagan got elected (um, the first time, just to be clear).  (Or, in Daniel-speak?  "Dude, seriously, step away from the barely-legal.")

P.S.  Days Month in Review coming to a blog near you shortly; this show is getting good, y'all!  I can hardly believe I just typed that, but there you go.

Screencaps courtesy of Days of Our Lives 2.

Now THIS Is a Serious Problem

Lately, I've become increasingly concerned about Dr. Daniel Jonas and Chelsea Brady.  I'm sure you know what I'm talking about.  It's clear to anyone with eyesight, and a sense of shame.  There can be no disagreement about the wrongness involved.  It's just indisputable. 

Right?  It's so obvious:

Their hair is fug.

Rachel Melvin's haircut is one of those that you catch a glimpse of and you think you must have seen it wrong.  Like, obviously she must just have it pulled back in a too-messy bun, or the camera just caught her at a bad angle.

But no.  That's actually it.  What in the effing eff is that effedupedness?!  What are those pieces in the front?  What is the possible logic in that?  Did her stylist say something really offensive halfway through the cut, necessitating a quick escape in a fit of righteous indignation?  Or is this what we have to look forward to now that 98% of women in this country have realized that no, they cannot pull off the Posh bob?

General Hospital Couple of Weeks in Review

Let's start with the biggest General Hospital news of late, the Daytime Emmy nominations.  Mallory covered the high and low points brilliantly already, so I won't take up much of your time with this.  (Mostly because knowing our readership, if I spend much space discussing GH being held up as one of the four best soaps on the air, there will be widespread cardiac episodes and rage blackouts.  And we need to save those up for when they announce a second season of Night Shift.)

I can actually deal, at least conceptually, with GH being nominated for best show and writing, if they submitted episodes from the Metro Court hostage situation.  Granted, I thought 75% of that storyline sucked, but it was better than almost everything else GH put out the rest of the year, and from what other people say it's better than what lots of other shows aired as well.  So I can get to an okay place with the nominations.  As long as they lose, of course.  If they win, I'll go postal.  But let's cross that horrifying bridge when we get there (and when we have lots of alcohol).

What really bugs me about the GH nominations is that they give the impression that the cast is the problem.  "The show has exceptional writing, directing, and showrunning -- shame about that shitty cast that can't muster more than Tony Geary's [Deserved But Let's Face It Guaranteed Until He Retires Even If He's Onscreen for Ten Minutes a Year] nomination, huh?"  Which is unfortunate because I think GH has a great cast, one that frequently makes terribly written material bearable, even entertaining.  So to sum up, Daytime Emmy voters are even more inept than the people who run ABC Daytime.  Who knew such a thing was possible?

But on with the recappery . . .

General Hospital Truckload of Weeks in Review

Last week, my dog somehow injured his paw and I came home to him limping and holding up his front leg in the most pathetic and heart-tugging manner.  Long ($450) story short, his discharge instructions from the emergency vet said that he came into the clinic "suffering from acute lameness."  When I read that I was all "OMG, just like General Hospital!!!"  Thank god I didn't say it out loud.  At least I think I didn't.  I don't know.  This show makes me do crazy things, you guys. 

I haven't blogged about this mess in a couple of weeks, so rest assured there is lots of acute lameness ahead.  The show, not my blogging.  Or, well...no promises.

Obviously the biggest twist since I last annoyed you with my GH musings is Ian shooting Michael.  To be honest, my combination of cold dead heart + dislike of Michael Corinthos = wouldn't really have objected to the Michael-gets-shot storyline.  I wouldn't have loved it, mind you, but I probably wouldn't have been all up in arms and ranty like I sometimes get.  But Bob Guza's "explanation" for the storyline is so appalling, so outrageously out of touch with decency, that I am now going to hate it -- and him! -- with a dedication I've heretofore reserved for certain politicians and Louis Vuitton logo bags. 

I cannot in any way improve upon Mallory's awesome dissection of Guza's assiness, so I won't try.  I will point out that her brilliant post has gone on to become the most commented-on in Serial Drama's history.  The post and comments have me a little concerned, though...do I understand that you all have a few somewhat negative feelings about this soap opera?  You really should express them!  I had no idea.

Let's start off in familiar territory:  Back in mobville, Sonny continues his quest to extend his Duh Face of the Year title.

I feel like we need to better publicize his vast repetoire of duh.  It's becoming legendary!  I smell a future tribute post.

Jack and Jennifer Would Be Appalled

The Fug Girls rightly fugged Ashley Benson, who used to play Abby on Days.  I am 1) really concerned about the 1/3 of readers who think that dress is okay, and 2) completely speechless at what a dead ringer she is for Taylor Momsen (Jenny from Gossip Girl) and how I never realized it until now.  (BTW, what's more disturbing about Taylor Momsen, that she is only 14 or that she was the little girl in the Grinch movie?  It's a close call.)

Also, on the topic of horrible soap fashions, the Daytime Emmys and our Second Annual Live-Blogging Extravaganza are less than a couple of months away.  Woooo!  Well, I'm looking forward to it.  What if there's another sarong?  Bliss.

Happy Birthday, Y&R!

Anniversaries and birthdays are exciting in and of themselves, and are even more exciting when they are milestones (notable exception: my upcoming 25th birthday, which is already giving me agita). So the fact that The Young and the Restless is celebrating 35 years on the air today is ultra exciting indeed, especially since it was absolutely stellar for, like, ninety percent of those 35 years.

And yet...I keep thinking of the Christmas episode of The Office when Michael was all, "Happy birthday, Jesus. Sorry your party's so lame".

Part of that is the fact that this is the photo SOAPNet uses to commemorate the big anniversary. I don't even know if lame's the right word.

I know that the non-ABC soaps are treated pretty shabbily by SOAPNet, but there's really no reason for that photo. It's just rude. Peter Bergman looks appropriately dreamy, but Michelle Stafford, who I think is stunningly gorgeous, is looking like what Christian Siriano would call a hot tranny mess. And Jeanne Cooper looks like she's illustrated. I don't get it.

The other part of it is the fact that the stories going on in this milestone week are kind of crappy: Another new character created because the writers ill-advisedly killed off the portrayer's better character is instantly attracted to Gloria? Lame! Katherine calling Amber for support instead of her daughter or her best friend? Lame! Victor and Sabrina just...existing? Lame!

And then there was the Restless Style launch party, which had all of the elegance and flair of the socials we had in sixth grade and those included leggings and awkwardly dancing in the gym. I just...was speechless through most of it.

General Hospital Week in Review

I've become completely unable to come up with introductions to Week in Reviews.  This show has fried my brain.  Imagine you're reading this and it's a witty and concise synopsis of the week that makes you want to read on.  Or just know that if you keep reading, you will see 1) Sonny getting beat up, 2) a poll in which you can express your wish that Carly was dead, and 3) incontrovertible proof that evil forces are plotting against Kelly Monaco.

Aw, Sonny, why the long face?

Cat got your tongue?

Okay, no...

Maybe you're just a little bummed, remembering how you got your ass handed to you, in public, by a kid who a scant few months ago thought he could fly? *

Or maybe you're still steaming over Jax giving you a verbal asskicking to match Johnny's literal one?

Man alive, it was a great week to be a Jax fan.

My favorite part of that conversation was that Sonny the intimidating mobster is approximately seven feet shorter than Jax.

(And is well prepared to defend his Duh Face of the Year title.)  Sonny's still a weeble, is what I'm saying.

I also loved how Sonny walked around for like a day and a half bleeding from the head, and nobody said boo about it.  Is it possible everyone in town is finally starting to hate him as much as they should?

* In case you're wondering, I don't feel the least bit hypocritical about enjoying that beat-down, despite having endlessly whined about the excessive violence on this show.  That's what's nice about being an anonymous online commentator without a soul.

General Hospital Week in Review

This show is still boring me.  But I've come to the realization that despite that, the blog must go on.  Plus Maxie had a super cute outfit this week that I had to preserve in screencap form.  So the official Week in Review returns.

The truly moving story of Will the Hitman Recover the Use of His Hands in Time to Kill Again and Sleep With the Woman Who He Isn't Supposed To Be Sleeping With Because As His Babymama She and His Kid Are In Danger From the Job He Is So Desperate to Get Back? continues. 

Ugh.  At least the visual of the oven mitts of gauze is entertaining.

I call this:  I CAN HAZ GUN?

(I also loved Sonny's pissy little rant about how dare Jason get injured, and maybe "this is just an excuse" not to do his Really Important job.  Yes, that gauze does look psychosomatic to me.  Although I would welcome the twist that Jason is faking all this because it's the only way he can break up with Sonny.)

Mike's amazement at Marianna's mad waitressing skillz was...entertaining.

Mike: I don't know who you are, but that was amazing.  And you did it all with a smile!

Yeah man, when she picked up those two plates, at two separate times, and then poured coffee?  IT WAS UNBELIEVABLE.  How DOES she do it?  One day I hope to be able to transfer liquid from one container to another without scowling.  I dream big!

Days of Our Lives Week in Review

Sweeps went out with a bit of whimper on Days last week, but it was still some pretty good soap.  In a week of overall non-outrageousness, though, there were some outrageous happenings.

How outrageously excessive has Deidre Hall's 2008 screentime been? Enough with Marlena-palooza!  If I have to sit through another week with Marlena on every day, my soul might react thusly:

But whatever.  They're back in Salem, so Marlena can't possibly be on every damned day anymore, right? 

I was all prepared to be extra-traumatized this week by a John and Marlena sex scene (I occasionally read my Soap Opera Digest, you know!), but it turned out it was just them making out a little bit.  Regular readers know I have been traumatized on the regular by these two getting it on, but somehow with the cheesy soundtrack covering up any overly dramatic moaning, and the absolute non-smurfiness of John's mad woo-ing skills made it okay this time.  I mean, this was freaking hilarious:

Marlena: ...You're not here.
John: Well, maybe my mind isn't.  But my body sure as hell is.  So just take what you can get.

Hee.  Are you swooning yet, Doc?

And then, when she decided to take what she could get, right before they got down to business, this:

John: Brace yourself.

Haaa!  Robotic dickhead John never ceases to amuse.  (Marlena did later use my most despised soap phrase, "making love," but I can't rant about that without access to lots of alcohol.  I am, seriously, physically revolted by that phrase.)

Anyway, "Brace yourself" is the new "You complete me."  You heard it here first.

Victoria Victorious

Genoa City was home to a miracle to end all miracles yesterday, when Victoria Newman came out of her paper mache caused coma, ending months of awkward, fabricated stories being told to her unconscious form. Don't let her blank stare, JT's confused "...who?" expression or Nikki's half-hearted tears fool you, it was actually good news.

Especially when one considers that her family abandoned all hope of modern medicine aiding her recovery in any way. Her room was filled with lots of official medical apparatuses, but...she wasn't actually hooked up to any of them. They were like four feet away from her.

It's as if they just said to themselves (and I would not fault them for doing so), "Well, she's been in a coma for months after being beaned in the head with a ball of Styrofoam. If she hasn't recovered now, she's not going to, so why are we even bothering?"

So that happened.

I feel like I was supposed to be supremely affected by the entire thing, but I wasn't. And let me tell you something, there are few people in the world who get teary eyed more easily than me. So the fact that this late-January miracle left me cold says volumes about how anti-climactic it was. There are three possibilities:

• It was kind of lame that she got out of the coma as quickly as she went into it and that after a couple of minutes of discombobulation she was fine.
• Amelia Heinle, lovely though she may be, just does not work as Victoria and reads as some random character who doesn't know how to apply lipstick properly. There's no there there. She's so bland, which Victora Effing Newman never should be. 
• In the interest of fairness, it's entirely possible that I've become dead inside, a predicament that I will no doubt try to blame on Lynn Marie Latham, Jill Farren Phelps or a combination of the two.

Or maybe I was just distracted by the fact that the entire episode was Cleavage on Parade...