Oh, television. How I watch you, how I look forward to seeing new things flick across your shiny screen, and how I occasionally hate myself for wasting an hour watching something I know I won’t like.
You ever have one of those days where everything seems to go wrong? Me too. I had one of those days today. I count myself lucky - I didn’t lose my job, or my home, or any body parts I’d miss in the morning, but I lost some people. And when you’re trying to get through your day in a haze of what basically feels like suckiness in corporal form, it can be difficult to focus on anything else.
Like most people under the age of 25, I saw The Hunger Games recently. Not on opening night, mind you, and certainly not for $10 at the local multiplex. I saw it on a friend’s computer, where I watched a screener loaned to me by a movie reviewer, and didn’t pay a dime.
To be honest, I don’t think I would have paid to see it. I liked the books well enough when I read them a year or so ago, all three during a week-long reading spree, but I was never as attached to them as the general public seems to be. I found myself wanting more from the story than the author was willing to provide, and so I didn’t pursue the movie with any sort of anticipation beyond mild wariness of cheesy movie merchandise. (T-shirts with war hero faces on them just don’t scream necessary to me, for whatever reason. I don’t know why.)
I don’t want to spoil the entire movie, which I feel like I would if I really talked about how I feel… so instead, I’m just going to tell you why you should go see how great Katniss and Peeta are. Because, really, they are The Hunger Games.
(Obviously, spoilers lay ahead.)
Remember last week? You were supposed to watch Cougar Town and come back to me with your gushing praise about how fantastic the show is and how wonderful the characters are and how much you just love seeing a map of Florida in every opening credits! (To be fair, some of you did. And you loved it, just like I knew you would.)
But for the rest of you… what gives? Ladies being awesome just wasn’t up your alley? Looking for something a little more exotic, but not so old? Well, have no fear; I’ve got just the solution.
You should watch Happy Endings!
I have a confession to make. I’m considering a second bachelor’s degree… all because I can’t bear the idea that I’ll never have another socially sanctioned week off from responsibilities with which to vegetate and marathon new television. I’m talking about that thing called ‘spring break’, where most people fly to Cabo or Cozumel and drink disgusting amounts of alcohol that’s more suited for sanitizing medical supplies than human consumption.
I use spring break to watch new shows, and that’s exactly what I did this year. Since we’re in hiatus season, I’d like to spend the next few weeks telling you about some of the shows I had a chance to watch while you were waking and baking in the sun.
Show #1: ”Cougar Town”
(Don’t worry… they hate the name too.)
Hello, my name is Jenna, and I am a 22 year old college student. I’m also a feminist, and I’m pissed.
Dear readers, today is a glorious day. Today, I’m not going to depress you with talk of a show on FOX that consistently disappoints me. Today, we’re going to talk about feminism!
Yes, I know, feminism probably leaves a dirty taste in your mouth and makes you think of bra-burning and man-hating liberal ladies in Birkenstocks. But fear not, readers, because feminism can be (drumroll please) awesome.
Take, for instance, this song. Recorded for a kids’ television show on Nickelodeon (yes, Nick), this song has sent me on a feminism high like I haven’t felt in ages. You see, the name of this song is “Take a Hint,” and I’m going to break it down for you, because I believe I’ve found what could be the next female national anthem.
(If you haven’t hit play, do so now.)
”I don’t want to be a priss, I’m just trying to be polite.”
What makes this song so fantastic is that it starts off where all things should: with politeness and decency. It’s good to be polite - it’s practically mandated for girls - but if someone flirts with you and you’re not interested, you have a right to say no. You don’t have to be rude about it, and then they can leave you alone. It works out for both parties, and nobody gets upset.
“You ask me for my number, you put me on the spot. You think that we should hook up, but I think that we should not.”
But then the song goes on, because they didn’t leave her alone. Turns out “no” isn’t that easy. The boys don’t take the hint - as boys often don’t, because we live in a society that ignores “no means no” and says instead, as Meg from Hercules so accurately puts it: “no means yes and get lost means take me I’m yours!” So they put her on the spot, making it seem rude for her to say no, I’m not interested, and she gets fed up with it. Natural course of events.
“What about no don’t you get?”
And here, the song goes on, because the interactions always go on. Because our society is about making no into a joke, about teaching boys to continue on until a girl changes her mind. I really love the way the song frames the indignity here - it really puts the blame on the people who simply don’t accept no for an answer, who press on until it becomes necessary to defend oneself like this. It’s perfect; if you say no and they leave you alone, it’s fine. The problem comes when they refuse to take no as an answer as if anyone owes them something for taking an interest.
“I guess you still don’t get it, so let’s take it from the top. You asked me what my sign is and I told you it was STOP.”
And then - and this is my favorite part - instead of changing her mind to go along with what’s easier (with what may keep her safe, with what may prevent these people from becoming angry and aggressive) she gets angry. She said no, and instead of them leaving her alone, they’ve pursued her. And that’s a problem. So she fights back, blatantly telling them to leave her alone, even when they don’t listen.
Get your hands off my hips before I punch you in the lips! No, you can’t buy me a drink, but let me tell you what I think: I think you could use a mint, take a hint, take a hint.
It’s a powerhouse rock anthem about personal dignity and it’s sung by women. That’s amazing. We’ve had thousands of songs about scorned lovers and revengeful exes, but I honestly cannot remember ever hearing a song about a girl standing up for herself against unwanted advances. Especially not a good song!
This is a song I want to press into the hands of every girl I ever meet. It’s the song I’ve asked for my entire life, a powerhouse anthem about standing up for yourself and not feeling obligated to go along with unwanted advances just to stay out of harm’s way. The fact is, no means no, and if we need a rock anthem to sing at sleazy boys at bars or in the street, I’m 100% for it.
Our favorite TV shows are like our friends. They’re well-liked, sometimes sweet and often a little too dramatic, but at the end of the day there’s a heart somewhere in there that beats just like our own. I used to think this way about Glee, dear readers… before I watched Season Three.
This week’s episode (“Heart”) was, unsurprisingly enough, a 45 minute songfest dedicated to that holiday we love to hate, Valentine’s Day. And, like most holiday themed episodes, this one was about as predictable as they come. As you could probably guess, this one came with a message: love conquers everything. My major problem? Where’s the everything?
(Dear readers, no mas is… well, what I’d like to scream at Ryan Murphy and co. No more.)
If you’ve ever watched, well, the pilot of Glee, you probably remember that Will Schuester’s a Spanish teacher. Apparently, however, he’s a Spanish teacher who can’t speak Spanish. If that alone doesn’t tell you just how much of a trainwreck the last episode of Glee was, nothing will.
Let’s be honest here: the fact that we’re still forced to watch themed episodes that outdate the target audience is a joke, right? Ryan Murphy and Co are toying with us because we’re stupid enough to sit down and watch whatever plot they throw at us, right? There are better plots somewhere over the rainbow, right?
I don’t think so, either, dear readers, and it pains me. Last week gave us “Michael”, a Gleeky episode dedicated to the one and only MJ himself… and like all overhyped Glee episodes, it was a real letdown. Packing in nine full songs in a 45 minute episode, it left little time for any character development, let alone any that would have lasting effects. (I know, who am I kidding, it’s Glee. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t want it!)
