I remember, years ago, when I tuned in to the final episode of Dawson's Creek, season 1. I didn't actually watch the show (my manic dedication to the kids of Capeside came later, when I TAPED - NOT TiVoed - all of the rerun episodes on TBS), but I knew something big was going to happen. That was the day Joey and Dawson were going to kiss.
It was truly worth watching. Granted I have always been sympathetic to the girl "friend" getting what she deserves (in this case it's apparently a silent Scientology birth, but I am getting ahead of myself), working her way up the romance ladder (in this case the ladder is both literal and figurative), and getting to mack on that hot (er, I mean... actually I still don't know why James Van Der Beek was desirable) guy of her dreams. I was Joey except I never got any, which is why I don't like her. That and she is the worst singer ever (refer to the episode where she sings "On my own" or the later episodes where she is unfortunately in Chad Michael Murray's band).
Back to my original point, however, despite my natural tendency to be happy for Joey, I have to believe that it wasn't just my previously-kissless empathy which made the final moments of Dawson's so great. Rather, it was the art of the delayed gratification. Like I said. I didn't even watch Dawson's then, but I had seen enough episodes and I was in touch with enough popular culture to know that this was BIG. And then there's the moment itself... All the awkward glances, stammers, hesitations, leading up to one helluva season finale silhouetted against the window shade of the Leary home.
There have been countless tales of unrequited and unrealized love on TV, but whether its my age and its accompanying cynicism or just plain bad programming, I have to say that the latest batch of moments-you-wait-whole-seasons-for has been less than moving. Case in point:
The West Wing, a show I used to be dedicated to but in pre-TiVo and computer TV-tuner days I cast aside in favor of the obviously lower quality
Jack & Jill (see WB network, circa 1998). Again, I watched it enough in the early seasons, on syndication and, recently, on DVD to know that Josh and Donna were going to get it on. Someday. And while watching the winter Olympics (the only TV I've watched live in a year and a half), I caught a preview for the concluding episodes of the show. Politics and election outcomes be damned - I promptly set my TiVo so I could catch the longest-delayed liplock in my memory. SEVEN seasons, may I remind you? I even called my roommate, another oft-fan of TWW, so that she would be sure not to miss a moment of what would surely be an earth-shattering release of sexual tension. At last.
Imagine my disappointment when I finally had a few solitary moments to catch the episode. First of all, my aforementioned roommate had already watched the first 3 minutes, which I thought was odd. Then, as I rewound to the beginning, I caught a glimpse of what I thought was the hoped-for kiss. Damn, I thought, maybe it was in a previous episode that I didn't catch on TiVo and that was in the "previous on West Wing" scenes.
Of course, it wasn't. Instead, the stupid kiss that I had waited YEARS for turned out to be one 10 second scene with no resolution whatsoever, and without even a whole lot of making out. Followed by an episode focusing on some freaking nuclear disaster and the absolutely absurd idea that a Republican from California would win his own state and a Democrat from Texas would win his, while meanwhile there is a pending nuclear conflict between Russia and China in Kazakhstan (Yakshemash! In US of A, democracy is very different from Kazakhstan. In America, woman can vote, but horse - cannot!).
I admit that I like the political mumbo jumbo and the attempted analogy to our current times (the phrase "exit strategy" was uttered several times), but I
don't like the fact that they crammed the best part into the first 4 minutes and didn't even
go anywhere with it. And the following episode Donna wasn't even
in it. Ex
cuse me, when did this become ok?
I have decided my biggest pet peeve is when the climactic kiss happens accidentally - like when someone says "I love you" without intending for it to be the L word (cf: Chandler and Monica, turkey,
Friends) and then everyone on the show freaks out. Or when people kiss because (insert whiny voice here) they are
so happy that the flailing Democratic party ticket gains
five whole points in California which is as we all know
dominated by the noble Republicans that they just get
carried away and kiss
in their excitement and then follow that awkward peck with 4 or so more of the same intensity - approximately zero. And then the nerve of the director to just cut the scene with that door fading - the least he could have done is go to commercial so I could imagine some hot and heavy action before the rest of the campaign management people burst through the door to interrupt everything. To top it off, Josh didn't even get to snag her key from the table before the nosy campaign management people burst MY bubble. Ugh I am so frustrated with modern television.
Perhaps, I think, I am barking up the wrong tree.
The West Wing has always been above petty things and I cannot expect them to fulfill my
Dawson's jones. Surely I can find the kind of screen-shattering sexual tension climax I'm looking for on a half-trashy doctor show - surely my
Grey's Anatomy won't let me down.
Wrong again of course, because while I clearly do not believe that George and Meredith to be together (although I would prefer that to George and that mannish Kelly Osbourne type), the episode from approximately a month ago where Meredith shamefully abused George's love/infatuation for her was just as anticlimactic as
West Wing if not more so. I don't believe that characters on TV should make dumb mistakes and try to sleep with their noble, dorky roommates even if it is more realistic. I do not watch drama TV shows for reality! Thank you! In my ideal TV world, Meredith and George would have shared awkward, curious glances for at
least 15 episodes before any bedroom activity and when it happened it would be hot first, awkward later (refer to
Dawson's, season 6, episode 1). None of this business of George following her around like a sick puppy for two years and Meredith being playful and ignorant of his undying love for her, followed by one whimpering sex scene which ends up with one in the arms of Kelly Osbourne and the other going for dog walks in the park with the old sexy sleazebag. (Where is the rivalry between the sexy sleazebag and the sick puppy? Where are my Pacey and Dawson? Actually I am glad Dawson is far gone cause he drove me
crazy!)
I used to complain when TV shows just flip-flopped back and forth - when they put two people in a relationship and then realized that television is really boring when you watch people be nice to each other all the time (refer to
Felicity, any episode where she and Ben get along), so they broke them up and threw in more drama but, because they knew all the viewers wanted was for the two to
finally get together, they ended up giving them more make-out time. I admit that this used to bother me, and I also admit that it's probably less realistic and more frustrating than dragging out 7 years of political drama before giving an assistant a shot at her boss. And I also admit that George and Meredith getting it on for real is about comparable in likelihood to Brian Krakow and Angela hooking up in the nonexistent fourth season of
My So-called Life. So what is it that bothers me here?
I think the answer goes along with why I can't like modern romantic comedies - and I've tried (I have paid real money in the theater for such winners as
Raising Helen,
The Wedding Date and
Wimbledon, not to mention
The Cinderella Story). I think the problem is that I actually have grown out of them. I can't stomach all the canned dialogue and carefully constructed meaningful glances. Have they gotten worse? Or have I just gotten wiser?
My discomfort with the anticlimaxes in GA and TWW is probably a result of me trying to maintain my Joey-Dawson view of the world and failing (because it doesn't exist, nor should it) - a deepseated, a pathological dislike for plotlines that feature borderline realistic twists instead of overidealistic (Leary-esque, even) fairy tale endings. I was milkfed on fairy tales and in later life and shorter attention spans I moved onto teen dramas, romantic comedies and climactic kisses on a 27 inch screen. I was born to be dissatisfied with any storyline which could remotely exist in the world of possibility.
But there has to be hope for me. I mean, despite the terribly lame romantic scenes in
The West Wing I still found myself trapped in the intricacies of the political wheelings and dealings. And
Grey's Anatomy, despite the terribly embarrassing (and therefore disturbingly realistic) denouement of George and Meredith's sexual escapade, has recently worked its way to being one of my favorite shows on TV. Surely I can reconcile my grown-uppedness with my taste in television and come to terms with the lack of Joey-Dawson climactic moments. Surely I can put aside childish things and like television for its realistic (ish) resolutions and the characters for their realistic (ish) challenges.
After all, we know Joey did not end up with Dawson in the end. She ended up at the age of 24 cozying up with the scruffy, struggling Pacey in a fancy-schmancy Manhattan apartment with the kind of candles lit which cost $40 apiece from Pottery Barn. Joey eschewed the fairy tale and grew the fuck up, right? (Right.)
Well, if Joey Potter could do it, so can I. (Except for that whole silent birth thing.)
