This is how it's done in Orange County
"Welcome to the O.C., bitch!"
That's right, the "culture" of my home-county has been tabbed as fodder for yet another major entertainment project, this time Fox's prime-time teen soap "The O.C."
I have to say, the show has pretty well met all of my expectations, at least it I can get an accurate read based off the pilot.
Coming in, I expected that any series titled "The O.C." had to 1) depict inhabitants of the Orange Curtain as incredibly vapid, hypocritical, rich-bitch spoiled brats, remaining true to life, and 2) suggest that redemption can come even in the "bubble of Newport". Check and check.
What I found most amusing about the former was coverage on the local Fox affiliate on the newscast immediately after the series premiered, which featured a live remote from a restaurant in the Orange Curtain where some honest-to-goodness natives watched "The O.C." and commented on it. And, sure enough, none of them broke the cookie cutter "affluent, young, skinny, shallow, white folk" used to churn out the cast of characters on the TV show. It has me wondering whether this is a case of O.C. life imitating "The O.C." or "The O.C." imitating O.C. life. Baffling.
Frankly, I think I may be hooked on "The O.C." -- rather unlike the O.C. -- because for me it's "train wreck television." I find myself unable to turn away from the hour-long paean to bourgeois decadence, Newport style. Watching it, I almost feel like Nero, fiddling as I watch Rome burn. Of course, in my estimation it would be far less tragic were the O.C. to burn than it was when ancient Rome bit the dust back in Nero's day, but I'll admit to being, perhaps, not the most impartial of judges on such matters.
My favorite aspects of the pilot include:
• the fashion show with fashions from "all the great stores at Fashion Island"
• a mother bitching about her daughter being made to wear Calvin Klein on the runway at said fashion show
• spoiled brat rich teens getting thoroughly sloshed at someone's parents' beach house
• the public defender who takes in a hard-luck kid from "the wrong side of the tracks in Chino" (Ed. note: There is no "wrong side of the tracks" in Chino. It's Chino, for crying out loud! What they mean to say is that he's not from Chino Hills.) and into his Newport Beach home to help get him back on his feet
• some O.C. girl at the aforementioned beach house party remarking, in response to mention of Chino, "Ewwwwwww"
• the greatest moment in television between 9 and 10 p.m. last Tuesday night, the crowning moment, pièce de résistance, words of wit and wisdom, the show's signature line (and potentially my new catch phrase": "This is how we do it in Orange County!"
Isn't it great when a drama oozes so much unintentional humor?
That's right, the "culture" of my home-county has been tabbed as fodder for yet another major entertainment project, this time Fox's prime-time teen soap "The O.C."
I have to say, the show has pretty well met all of my expectations, at least it I can get an accurate read based off the pilot.
Coming in, I expected that any series titled "The O.C." had to 1) depict inhabitants of the Orange Curtain as incredibly vapid, hypocritical, rich-bitch spoiled brats, remaining true to life, and 2) suggest that redemption can come even in the "bubble of Newport". Check and check.
What I found most amusing about the former was coverage on the local Fox affiliate on the newscast immediately after the series premiered, which featured a live remote from a restaurant in the Orange Curtain where some honest-to-goodness natives watched "The O.C." and commented on it. And, sure enough, none of them broke the cookie cutter "affluent, young, skinny, shallow, white folk" used to churn out the cast of characters on the TV show. It has me wondering whether this is a case of O.C. life imitating "The O.C." or "The O.C." imitating O.C. life. Baffling.
Frankly, I think I may be hooked on "The O.C." -- rather unlike the O.C. -- because for me it's "train wreck television." I find myself unable to turn away from the hour-long paean to bourgeois decadence, Newport style. Watching it, I almost feel like Nero, fiddling as I watch Rome burn. Of course, in my estimation it would be far less tragic were the O.C. to burn than it was when ancient Rome bit the dust back in Nero's day, but I'll admit to being, perhaps, not the most impartial of judges on such matters.
My favorite aspects of the pilot include:
• the fashion show with fashions from "all the great stores at Fashion Island"
• a mother bitching about her daughter being made to wear Calvin Klein on the runway at said fashion show
• spoiled brat rich teens getting thoroughly sloshed at someone's parents' beach house
• the public defender who takes in a hard-luck kid from "the wrong side of the tracks in Chino" (Ed. note: There is no "wrong side of the tracks" in Chino. It's Chino, for crying out loud! What they mean to say is that he's not from Chino Hills.) and into his Newport Beach home to help get him back on his feet
• some O.C. girl at the aforementioned beach house party remarking, in response to mention of Chino, "Ewwwwwww"
• the greatest moment in television between 9 and 10 p.m. last Tuesday night, the crowning moment, pièce de résistance, words of wit and wisdom, the show's signature line (and potentially my new catch phrase": "This is how we do it in Orange County!"
Isn't it great when a drama oozes so much unintentional humor?
posted by Alexander Dubcek | 02:07
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