In defense of Two and a Half Men

The Internet's most unpopular title card.

I can feel the bullet wounds already.

Somewhere between the time Two and a Half Men became the highest-rated sitcom in America and to the time Two and a Half Men remained the highest-rated sitcom in America, it has become cool to hate the show.

In a recent bout of depression, I finally watched a rerun in its entirety. I pretty much live on syndication. And it wasn't too bad. In fact, I watched other episodes and they weren't completely horrible either. I don't even remember why I hated it so much in the first place other than the fact that, while channel-surfing, it seemed really stupid. I am about to swallow my words.

Let's acknowledge what most of the Internet (15 to 35 year olds) and I agree about this show: It's not brilliant, it's not groundbreaking, it's not special, it's probably aimed at ordinary, middle-aged men and 10 year boys (your parents and your baby nephew), it's surprising that it's the number one sitcom in America, and it has more cheap potty humor than it should have.

But here's what we disagree on: I find it rather endearing, entertaining, full of potential, and occasionally, very funny. Shoot me, please.

I don't understand how anyone can fault the actors in the show because they are not the problem. The Emmys seem to agree with me.

Sheen was painfully bland in his Golden Globe-winning (?!) performance as Michael J. Fox's replacement in Spin City, but in his own vehicle, he is a reliable lead. His acting style epitomizes the title of Jason Alexander's book in the Curb Your Enthusiasm episode, Acting Without Acting. Having said that, Sheen does a very good, effortless job of playing himself, minus the more controversial aspects of his real-life self. Comedians have been playing caricatures of themselves for years and while Sheen is not a comedian, he is pretty funny in the show by being a self-centered, often drunk, irresponsible, lazy bastard, commitment-phobe jingle writer with some sort of questionable heart.

Considering all the negative reaction to Jon Cryer's Supporting Actor Emmy win last year (and nomination this year), I wonder: Has anyone actually seen Jon Cryer's performance in Two and a Half Men? Cryer, as Alan, Charlie's divorced chiropractic brother, is technically co-lead, but submitting himself in the supporting category is basically a stroke of genius. While the point of being a "supporting actor" is to impress the audience with limited screen time, Sheen will always be seen as the real "star" of the show. Especially since Cryer's paycheck is almost half of Sheen's.

So back to my original question: Is the quality of Cryer's performance really so much worse than Jack McBrayer (30 Rock), Tracy Morgan (30 Rock), Kevin Dillon (Entourage), Neil Patrick Harris (How I Met Your Mother), and Rainn Wilson (The Office)? I've seen all the performances except for Dillon's in Entourage, and Cryer's doesn't pale so much in comparison. While Harris was widely considered to be robbed that year, and yes, Harris is a fine actor, but his performance doesn't strike me as so much more superior than the performances of his fellow nominees. Harris now has two Emmys, anyway.

However, Cryer's performance conveys all the anguish of a desperate, self-pitying, middle-aged loser trying to cope with the dating scene and the antics of his playboy brother. A George Costanza with morals.

Angus T. Jones as Alan's son, Jake, is very good. In the earlier seasons, Jake is pretty much there to be confused about the sexual double entendres, but he watches and learns. Is that appropriate? Well, Jones' parents seem to approve. Jones is much more natural than most Disney child stars and has chemistry with all the actors in the show, except that as he ages, he seems to lack an essential father-son rapport with Cryer. As Jake ages, his dialogue is dumbed down to miserable potty humor, but Jones manages to surprisingly deliver his lines with an odd deadbeat charm.

This show has often been criticized by many for its portrayal of women. Yes, the women who comes in and out of Charlie's life are often shown as bimbos. Guess what? Bimbos exist. And there are also men who objectify women. Charlie is one of those men. And these women voluntarily, willingly sleep with Charlie. Those kind of women also exist and those kind of men certainly don't mind.

But the other regular female characters on this show are far from being bimobs. Yes, they are flawed, but again, who isn't?

Judith (Marin Hinkle), Alan's ex-wife, is probably the most unsympathetic recurring female character. Judith divorces Alan because she's questioning her sexuality and after the divorce, she makes Alan pay for everything because she doesn't seem to have a job. But besides her obvious bitchiness, she does seem like a good mother who cares about what is best for her son.

Evelyn (Holland Taylor), Charlie and Alan's promiscuous mother, is a strong, independent woman. Evelyn's dominance of the Harper household--after her husband's suicide--is probably what sways her sons to weaker, more docile women. It makes sense. Taylor's multiple Emmy nominations are due to the fact that she's a masterful scene stealer. Her false attempts to spend time with her grandson, only to roll her eyes at an episode SpongeBob SquarePants and proclaim that "Life's too short" is the stuff comedic wonders are made of.

Berta (Conchata Ferrell), Charlie's housekeeper, is also a strong, independent woman who is able to get the job done and keep the family in place. And some people believe Berta's character is demeaning because she's a unpleasant, overweight maid. While she's not a young hot thing, she's sensible and cuts all the bullshit. Ferrell adds a dose of magic to even the simplest line readings. Even to something as simple as "Bite me."

I am particularly impressed with Melanie Lynskey's performance as Rose, Charlie's stalker and Jake's occasional babysitter. While Rose is probably one of the most manipulative, disturbing characters that has ever graced television, I don't think I can ever hate her. Lynskey plays her with such innocence, sweetness, sharpness, and wonderful comedic timing that it's a surprise that the writers never bothered to expand her role. Every time she is on screen, she brings the best out of all the actors. Lynskey (and this show) manages to make a stalker work as a character and a potential love interest.

The story lines for the episodes has often been criticized as being "unoriginal," "repetitive," and "formulaic." Here are some sample story lines:

- Charlie meets up with an old flame, only to find out that she has undergone a sex change (and is now Chris O'Donnell). They agree to be friends. When the ex-girlfriend--now a man--meets Evelyn, they end up dating. Charlie and Alan need to decide how to break the news to their mother.

- Chelsea, Charlie's girlfriend then fiancee, sets Alan up on a blind date. Charlie and Alan soon realize at the restaurant that Alan's blind date is Rose. Rose proceeds to pretend that she doesn't know the men and Charlie and Alan play along.

- At first, Rose's father (Martin Sheen) seems like an authoritative man. When he becomes too attached to Evelyn, Rose comes in and deals with her father, who seems to show the same mental instabilities that Rose possess.

These are arguably solid sitcom story lines. Sure, these story lines aren't complex or clever, but they're mildly creative, simple, and fun.

The jokes are a different story. Some of the jokes are sometimes just tasteless, many are predictable. There is a conversation in the season seven finale where Jake describes what he does to his butt and compares it to a hot dog; Sheen's disgusted reaction looks extraordinarily genuine.

Creators Chuck Lorre and Lee Aronsohn are above that kind of humor. I know that because the story lines are occasionally creative, the dialogue is occasionally witty and sharp, and I see random bursts of brilliance in this show all over the place. But its good qualities are not being embraced or harvested. It's like CBS comes in and tells Lorre and Aronsohn that the show is a big hit with a particular demographic--the mainstream blue collar/middle-aged men and 10 year old boys--and as condescending douchebags, they convince Lorre and Aronsohn to add in a penis joke here and a fart joke there. Because apparently, the mainstream cannot live without those.

But I don't know what 10 year boys like. Maybe 10 year boys do like fart jokes. I don't know.

The thing about Two and a Half Men is that it's one of the few network sitcoms right now that's not "cute." It doesn't aspire to be cute, unlike Lorre and Aronsohn's other project, The Big Bang Theory. Two and a Half Men appeals to the beer-drinking, working class forty-something and the sons of those beer-drinking, working class forty-somethings. That's a large part of America, if ratings prove anything.

Still, it breaks my heart seeing all the potential go to waste. This is a show that could be about a goofy, modern family unit that could only exist in sitcom-verse--the matriarch, the polar opposite brothers, the son of an unconventional family, the ex-wife, the ex-wife's husband, the maid, the stalker, the occasional new girlfriend, etc. While the show isn't clever, it certainly has a clever set of characters.

There are sitcoms that are as good as they ever going to get. This show could be so much more than the cheap, disposable humor wasteland it sometimes is. Take away all the potty humor and here's a show with tons of potential. Yeah, I like this show for what it could be more than what it is. But haters can hate. And I know there are a lot of you guys out there.

Seinfeld vs. Friends vs. Frasier

30 Rock and The Office may be critical darlings, but are they Must-See TV material? They got nothing on the powerhouses that are Seinfeld, Friends, and Frasier. Just sayin'.

When you're an unemployed recent high school graduate, like myself, you will most likely be spending your weekday nights watching syndicated reruns of Seinfeld, Friends, and Frasier on your local FOX affiliate, instead of partying it up with booze and blowing your parents' money off at the local cineplex. Right? Yes, absolutely! Nineties sitcoms are so in!

Moving on from socially acceptable norms, I want to talk about what I've been doing to occupy all the free time I have. I've been doing mostly nothing but mindlessly watching television and filling out applications for minimum wage employment. The former is much more enjoyable and a better topic for discussion.

So every night from 9pm to 11pm, I watch Seinfeld, Friends, and Frasier, in that order. It is arguably the most amazing two hours of comedy on television right now. In a way, it's almost like a time capsule that brings the golden age of NBC's Must-See TV to 2010. Unfortunately, this comparison would be much more clever if Seinfeld, Friends, and Frasier ever aired on the same Thursday night (only Friends and Frasier did).

I'm just living in the past and I'm not ashamed of it!

It is only natural to compare these shows. In my world where nothing is ever fair, there is always a clear-cut winner.

For anyone following my Twitter, they know I love the f--- out of Seinfeld. So there's already no competition. But I'll try to keep the discussion alive the best I can.

Greatest show ever...if you're part of the Baby Boomer Generation or Generation X. Or you're just part of it in spirit.

Seinfeld is one of the most original, unique, inventive sitcoms I've ever seen. In the last twelve years since it has gone off the air, no other show has had such a spectacular cultural impact or an eye so keen for clever social commentary. It relies on no reliable formula. It's completely unconventional. The characters are all bursts of wondrous comedic creativity and so brilliantly played by Jerry Seinfeld, Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Michael Richards, and Jason Alexander (ROBBED SO BADLY FOR AN EMMY). It's so witty, so quotable, and almost always hysterical.

Not only do I tune into Seinfeld at 9pm, but also at 7:30pm, and sometimes at 11pm, where they rerun the episode that aired at 9pm. There are some episodes that are so funny that they demand to be seen twice in one day.

It hasn't always been like this, though. I used to find Seinfeld loud and obnoxious, unfunny and unamusing, and generally tasteless. But, for some absurd reason, I would always tell my fellow friends that I preferred Seinfeld over Friends. I think that was the rebel inside of me at work, trying desperately to be different. But truthfully, as much as I enjoyed Friends, I've always found it overrated--more on that later.

I sympathized with Seinfeld, though, even though it's a show with complete and utter cultural relevance and is one of the most successful television sitcoms ever made. But I sympathized with it because my dear ol' Generation Y just didn't get it. I, for one, wished I did.

That was just fate at work, of course, because after my numerous declarations of a preference for Seinfeld over Friends, I actually began to enjoy some of the episodes that I would often catch while channel-surfing. (I guess this is a prime example of becoming what you say you are.) I remember thinking that "The Handicap Spot" and "The Bizzaro Jerry" are absolutely hilarious and brilliant. The episodes that truly got me hooked were "The Fusilli Jerry," "The Pitch," and "The Engagement." There was no turning back after seeing those episodes. The structure is brilliant--everything just ties together in the end, in the most unique, unpredictable way possible.

Seinfeld is notorious for being a self-labeled "show about nothing." And in a way, yes, George Costanza knew what he was talking about. But in the finale, George sums up the show perfectly by telling the NBC executives, "I really don't think so-called relationship humor is what this show is all about." And surprisingly, George is once again correct. While Friends is about marriages, divorces, hook-ups, break-ups, pregnancies, babies, and other genuinely emotional life events, Seinfeld is about muffin tops, pudding skins, soup, man-hands, puffy shirts, big salads, and ultimately, itself.

In Seinfeld's most thoughtful seventh season where George--the jackass, the loser, the Average Joe--gets engaged to a relatively decent woman, yet he spends the rest of the season trying to get out of the engagement so he could pursue other women. The show takes the entire relationship formula and throws it out the window.

But that is the core of Seinfeld: it's about selfish, miserable people whose plans often get destroyed by karma. That's why Jerry and Elaine were never meant to be, though they were perfect for each other (I'm not the only fan who thinks this, right?). But the characters are incredibly human and surprisingly warm (at times) to those in their inner circle.

Jerry Seinfeld said it best: "There's a great warmth beneath the surface of these characters. Just the fact that we forgive each other shows you that."

Those are all the qualities that made Seinfeld click with me, and perhaps the 76 million people that watched the finale (and the many that hated it). The show addressed things that are universal and often made it one giant inside joke for the fans that tuned in week after week (and oh how I wished I could have experienced that).

However, it's also a beautifully nihilistic reflection of the minituae. While some believed the show epitomized New York, it's a fine representation of misery, frustration, and disappointment from any part of the world. And there's the absurd humor ready to be dissected from it all.

There will never be another show like Seinfeld. Some people believe Curb Your Enthusiasm is the present-day Seinfeld and it's definitely comparable, being the brainchild of Seinfeld co-creator, Larry David, but it's a little too formulaic to be "better" than Seinfeld.

Seinfeld is inimitable. And I even liked the finale.

Greatest show ever if you're a fifteen year old girl. Just kidding!

Speaking of imitation, I believe that every generation needs their own Friends. I mean this is as a compliment. I believe that every decade or so, Friends should be remade. So while How I Met Your Mother is technically Friends, its unoriginal premise is not offensive because every generation needs a Friends! (But honestly, I can't care for How I Met Your Mother because I've already seen most of the last ten seasons of Friends. Does anyone else feel that way too? Or do you think How I Met Your Mother's quirks, wits, and Neil Patrick Harris make up for the fact that it's basically a pseudo Friends rip-off?)

I have a love-hate relationship with Friends, as you might have guessed. Friends is the first sitcom I fell in love with. My mom used to watch it in syndication and on Thursday nights on NBC. I would watch it with her and I thought it was relatively funny and cool because when you're ten, funny and cool pretty much makes a show gold.

Unlike Seinfeld, Friends is a certified "relationships show." The show often hinges on whether or not Ross (David Schwimmer) and Rachel (Jennifer Aniston) get together in the end or when will the whole group find out about Chandler (Matthew Perry) and Monica's (Courteney Cox) secret relationship, etc. It's a show that centers its whole existence on the idea of life's great emotional events.

But that's exactly why it's popular. That's why it's still many of my friends' favorite show ever. I get it!

Watching Friends as an eighteen-year-old, it's like watching the show with a brand new pair of eyes. I notice the infantile humor, the unacknowledged, uncalculated, accidental emotional immaturity of the characters (Seinfeld's characters can be immature, but Friends' characters are just plain stupid sometimes), the unbelievably moronic tendencies of its male characters (I know girls like it when they feel dominant towards the opposite sex, but do you really like guys who just don't have a clue?), and the emotional manipulation. Friends feels like a chick flick exclusively made for fifteen year old girls.

Yet I feel incredible warmth when I hear the iconic "I'll Be There For You" theme song and see the cast frolicking in the fountain. I feel completely nostalgic whenever I watch an episode because here is a show I used to love--it's like visiting an old friend.

I saw "The One Hundredth" the other day and there was that moment in the end where Phoebe (Lisa Kudrow) looks at her triplets and tells them how much she wishes she could see them everyday. And while I may hate Friends for its blindly cartoonish, immature antics, there are certainly some very sweet moments that just hits all the right notes.

I remember watching the finale live back in 2004. It is one of the most crowd-pleasing television finales I've seen. While the Seinfeld finale remains controversial to this day, the Friends finale left its fans with just the right amount of smiles and tears. I knew twelve-year-old me choked up at the sight of the empty apartment. At the time, I already spent the past three seasons watching Friends every Thursday night at 8pm. I actually feel chills just thinking about the last scenes of Friends.

Call it emotional manipulation or pulling of the heartstrings or whatever you want, but Friends has a damn good finale, which makes watching the reruns more satisfying because I know everything will turn out alright.

But then again, there's Joey, starring Matt LeBlanc. Which I find underrated, but still relatively lame.

Some say that there are two different types of people in the world: Those who prefer Friends and those who prefer Seinfeld. But I wonder if there is a certain type that prefers Frasier, or is Frasier the one show that unites all...?

Greatest show ever if you're a senior citizen. Or if you appreciate wisdom. Or both.

I just started watching Frasier a month ago, so I'm not a Frasier Expert yet.

Up until recently, I thought Frasier was a show made exclusively for old intellectuals who read Proust, Shakespeare, and Joyce on a daily basis. I've never seen an entire episode and every time it came on, I just switched the channel immediately. Well, I recently decided to give it a try and thought it was just hilarious. So lesson learned: Never judge a book by its cover.

While the so-called warmth in Friends can feel shallow and superficial at times, the writing in Frasier is so crisp, so clever, so witty, so touching that no wonder it's one of the most awarded sitcoms of all-time. While the humor is intellectual, it's not inaccessible to the ordinary person.

The sibling rivalry between Frasier and Niles Crane is often hysterical and they are even more hysterical when they have to work together. I was watching "The Show Must Go Off" the other day and the chemistry between Kelsey Grammer and David Hyde Pierce (who, along with Michael Richards, stole all of Jason Alexander's Emmys, but who can blame him?) is unbelievable. Not only do they have an uncanny resemblance, they really are convincing as brothers. And, of course, David Jacobi is excellent as an ex-Shakespearean theater actor turned sour.

The on-and-off relationship between Niles and physical therapist Daphne Moon (Jane Leeves) really is the sweetest thing. While Ross and Rachel may be the king and queen of the television on-and-off relationship of recent times, Niles and Daphne are so endearing, so sweet that Ross and Rachel can't even hold a candle to their relationship. Niles' nerdy longing for Daphne is funny and heartbreaking, wonderful and romantic.

The rest of the supporting cast--Peri Gilpin and John Mahoney--are a charming pleasure.

I can definitely see Frasier as a no-contest favorite in the future, but for now, I am just enjoying the journey of spending my weeknights with these wonderful, funny characters.

But right now, Seinfeld is the clear-cut winner. Its warmth is subtle. Its frustrations and comedy are blatant and endless. For a show that lets all romantic relationships slip through its fingers, it's a show I relate to and feel for the most. It's the show I feel the most affinity for. And I'm not even a lifelong New Yorker, though I was born there. That must be why.

So I direct this question to those who trespass: Seinfeld, Friends, or Frasier? And why?

The 2000s, A Decade in Retrospect...Gossip Girl

[from the "Vanity Fair" August 2008 photoshoot]

The 2000s, A Decade in Retrospect is a series where I will be professing my love to the pop culture wonders that I discovered during this decade, but not specific to this decade.

Teen drama has never been so sensationally addictive and relentlessly glamorous until Gossip Girl entered my life in the summer of 2009.

When the ultimate Upper East Side teenage high society queen, Blair Waldorf (Leighton Meester) and the sunny, charming "it" girl Serena van der Woodsen (Blake Lively) finally meet eye-to-eye on a rainy day in Central Park, I was sold. Blair spills her heart out to Serena: Blair's father left her mother for a male model, her boyfriend has been acting weird...and her best friend wasn't there for her as all this unfolded.

Bitching, back-stabbing, and uncomfortable confrontations. All that comes to an abrupt halt. Instead, we see Blair and Serena as who they really are and who they really want to be: best friends. Could Gossip Girl be a show with a...soul?

After years of rejecting the glitzy teen phenomenon, I became a fan. Gossip Girl turned out to be less shallow than I initially thought it was. Oh, yes, it may take place in a delusional universe of impeccable fashion sense, poreless skin, lovely make-up, drool-worthy shoes, and last but not least--perfect hair! served with a fair share of teen drinking and sex. But it's also a show with surprisingly likable characters and a cast with young, attractive talents who can deliver surprisingly engaging performances.

And to top it off, the picturesque New York cinematography and hip-chic soundtrack is literally to die for. Kristen Bell's narration as the mysterious title blogger adds to the scandalous! factor to the show, just like sugar and spice does to any dish.

On an aesthetic level, Gossip Girl completely dominates.

But underneath all those fabulous designer items, it's really, a superbly entertaining television show. Especially season one. I'm sad to say that it has gone slightly downhill, or, slightly crooked, in terms of quality. But season one is blessed with so much pure, melodramatic fun to a point that it's deliciously irresistible.

I was familiar with Gossip Girl producer, Josh Schwartz's previous project, The O.C., a teen soap focusing on the privileged youth of Orange County. I didn't watch the show religiously, so naturally, I didn't have high expectations for Gossip Girl. I also knew that Gossip Girl was adapted from a series of books by Cecily von Ziegesar, but trashy teen novels were never my style. If I had to spend time pouring over hundreds of pages of words, I prefer to read something that would stimulate my mind, thank you very much.

(I did admittedly finish the first book in the series recently. So why are people complaining about Twilight being a literary atrocity when Gossip Girl exists? Thanks for the idea, von Ziegesar, but thank goodness Schwartz and co-creator Stephanie Savage came in, like the TV superheroes they truly are, and reconstructed von Ziegesar's ridiculous UES world from an annoying toxic wasteland of robotic idiots to a world that's a little more...human.)

The pilot episode of Gossip Girl drew me in immediately. Peter Bjorn and John's "Young Folks" always remind me of that alluring opening sequence. The entire cast is fueled with endless chemistry.

The fairy tale romance between middle-class loner, Dan Humphrey (Penn Badgley) and redeeming party girl, Serena van der Woodsen is the most endearing romance since the mini love story in Billy Joel's "Uptown Girl" music video. Their romance was briefly threatened by the arrival of Dan's blatantly boho-styled friend Vanessa (Jessica Szhor), but then Dan and Serena just continued being awesome. Too bad the refreshing take on the Ross-and-Rachel concept only lasted one season until it all went downhill.

The troubled golden couple, Nate Archibald (Chace Crawford) and Blair Waldorf added some tension to the seemingly pitch-perfect landscape of lovely penthouses and sparkling martini glasses. While I originally thought Serena may be the continuously threatening corner of the central love triangle, it turned out to be the notoriously boozed-up local bad boy, Chuck Bass (Ed Westwick), who has his hard-to-crack heart set on Blair.

Then there's Dan's ambitious, social-climbing little sister, Jenny (Taylor Momsen), who tries to fit into her snobby private school--especially Blair's inner circle--without a pricey outfit from Bendel's. And it wouldn't be a proper teen soap opera without some middle-aged romance added into the mix: Dan's ex-rocker father, Rufus (Matthew Settle) and Serena's socialite mother, Lily (Kelly Rutherford) were once old lovers in their wilder days. They inevitably reconnect.

Season two happened. The sometimes-frustrating, sometimes-interesting will-they-won't-they cat-and-mouse game between Chuck and Blair commenced in a style that even John Hughes would have found to be too angsty. Then Jenny destroyed her pretty face and hair with a heavy load of eyeliner and a constant bad hair day. Then Dan had an unnecessary affair with an English teacher that I didn't give a damn about. Yet Nate was useless (as usual), until we met his horrifically devious family that happens to include the most badass grandfather ever.

There goes a completely unbalanced season. Ended on a fairly high note, though.

Unfortunately, the first ten episodes of season three didn't do any favors for the show. But with the amazing mid-season cliffhanger, there may be hope for Gossip Girl after all. The most recent episode brought back what I loved about the show in the first place: blackmail, back-stabbing, bitching, the great relationships, and the surprisingly good acting.

Ed Westwick continues to be criminally underrated, simply because he's on a CW teen soap opera. He has convincingly molded Chuck from the bad boy/date rapist he was back in season one into this mature, caring young man who is destined for great things. There were moments in season two, despite the overly angst-up writing, where I just thought, damn, why doesn't Ed Westwick get major award recognition for this? This is character development done right. His achingly touching performance in "The Debarted" (3x12) proves that he can strike gold twice. Just like any good actor would.

While I wouldn't call myself a super-duper "Chair" (Chuck/Blair) obsessive, I do like their scenes together. Westwick and Leighton Meester have this electrifying, passionate chemistry that I can't deny. Their unforgettable limo scene in season one, ingeniously set to Sum 41's "With Me," has been etched in my memory forever. But I prefer to see Meester's Blair as a lone warrior, fearlessly tackling her enemies on her own, with vulnerabilities to boot. That is when Meester is the most fierce and interesting. The funny thing is, Blair's a bitch, but she's just too human to fill us with despair.

Another thing I adore about the relatively impressive latter half of season three (so far) is Taylor Momsen's Jenny. She may have the drabbest outfits (and isn't she supposed to be rich now?), but her gradual rise to teenage queendom is completely enticing. I love that Jenny is becoming a bitch--a drug-dealing bitch, no less. I love that she practically has no friends since she alienated her gay stepbrother Eric (Connor Paolo) from her queen bee lifestyle. And since they called truce, it makes you wonder: Did they really mean it? In short, I love Jenny's storyline this season and I don't care if you disagree.

And...who knew Chace Crawford had such good comedic timing? The days where Nate constantly looked stoned, confused, and clueless are officially a thing of the past. I welcome the randomly lovesick Nate who learned to emote and do heroic deeds that I actually want to root for.

While season three may be looking up, season one is still one of the most perfect seasons I've ever witnessed, especially by teen soap opera standards. Even if Gossip Girl never returns to its former glory, it will still hold a certain place in my adolescent heart. Every teenage girl needs a show in her life that's totally corrupt, full of random love triangles, and acted out by gorgeous people. Gossip Girl successfully fills that void to the very brim. With sin, squalor, and lots of xoxos.

The 2000s, A Decade in Retrospect...ION airs The Wonder Years

[images courtesy of The Wonder Years]

The 2000s, A Decade in Retrospect is a series where I will be professing my love to the pop culture wonders that I discovered during this decade, but not specific to this decade.

"Growing up happens in a heartbeat. One day you're in diapers, the next day you're gone. But the memories of childhood stay with you for the long haul. I remember a place, a town, a house like a lot of other houses, a yard like a lot of other yards, on a street like a lot of other streets. And the thing is, after all these years, I still look back, with wonder."

In the uneventful summer of 2007, I stumbled upon the late-eighties coming-of-age half-hour dramedy, The Wonder Years. The show delicately chronicles the adolescence of Kevin Arnold during the escalating confusion and violence of the Vietnam War.

I was immediately hooked. ION played three cycles of the entire show, thankfully. I was able to consume all six seasons in a very short period of time. I was completely in love with a television show for the very first time.

The performances. The script. The amazing soundtrack.

Fifties, sixties, and seventies pop never sounded so cool and timeless. I used to listen to The Stylistics' "You Are Everything" and Bob Seger's "We've Got Tonight" back-to-back because those songs always reminded me of the scenes in the show and how much I wished my adolescence was filled with that kind of innocent puppy-love romance.

While I've always love nostalgia when used effectively in every artistic medium I've ever encountered, I've never seen it done like this. The show is, and always will be, a sweetly sentimental masterstroke of television genius. You don't have to live and breathe knowledge of mid-twentieth century Americana to completely relish the hormonal antics of The Wonder Years. It simply the best television show I've seen about the process of growing up in suburbia.

Fred Savage's brilliant turn as Kevin showcases an adolescent under the influence of angst, infatuation, humor, heartbreak, brattiness, and confusion. Savage is a natural; the obvious crux of the show. Season four highlights Savage's capability to believably deliver the most heartbreaking moments of adolescence.

Speaking of season four, it is perhaps one of the best seasons of any television show ever. I was left speechless when I watched the captivatingly dramatic, achingly devastating two-parter, "Heartbreak" and "Denial." I got teary-eyed when Kevin discovers the necklace Winnie Cooper (Danica McKellar) leaves on his bus seat, shortly after their break-up. I got even more teary-eyed in the aftermath of the break-up when Winnie tells Kevin that she wants to be friends and Kevin insists he doesn't want to be friends. He honestly believes, in his achingly fragile teenage heart, that he loves her. And we believe that too.

To me, Kevin and Winnie are the ideal sweethearts, simply because they aren't perfect. Their relationship is confusing, like all relationships are. But they keep coming back to each other because well, they can. I've always wanted a relationship like Kevin and Winnie's, but I'm already at the latter edge of adolescence, so I guess it's a little too late.

Being a Kevin and Winnie fan, I embrace season six with opens arms, which is my second favorite season of the series. Some fans may feel cold towards season six, but after those random missteps in season five, season six is a refreshing surprise. But it's the most human and consistent season. It makes me wish there is indeed a season seven. But thanks, ABC and the TV gods for annihilating the existence of a season seven for me. My life is sorrowfully imperfect without it.

I especially like how Kevin and Winnie matured into two teenagers who can be a steady couple and work out problems together. Kevin is no longer pining for Winnie because he doesn't have to. And Winnie isn't playing games with Kevin anymore because she knows that Kevin cares for her--always have been, and always will. Winnie may not be the most likable character, but McKellar's performance makes us see her the way Kevin sees her: flawed, yet a desirable object of affection.

And in one of my favorite episodes (from season five, amazingly enough), "Double Double Date" shows the chemistry between Savage and McKellar at its most electrifying and fantastical:



It's good to be a teenager, right?

While I may adore The Wonder Years for the adolescent romance between Kevin and Winnie, the supporting characters are also memorable.

Jack (Dan Lauria), a middle America breadwinner, who is, I believe, what 80% our fathers really are like. Jack Arnold is the anti-Bill Cosby because fathers like Jack are real, not products of the laugh tracks of sitcom land.

Wayne (Jason Hervey), is another character that strikes a chord with me. He's a bully of an older brother, but he's also human, susceptible to all kinds of vulnerabilities. One of the great things about season six is that Wayne matures into the kind of man who can be relied and trusted. The New Year's episode shows Wayne at his most authentic; he's more than a caricature of childhood or a comedic stereotype--he has a heart that can be broken.

Daniel Stern's narration as the "older Kevin" is also one of the grander highlights of the show. The lines that hit home and choked me up are mostly in narration, a role that Stern plays wonderfully.

The Wonder Years is not a perfect show, though. There are episodes that are terribly preachy. There are several rotten episodes (mainly in season five) that I try to weed out of my memory. Kevin's best friend, Paul Pfeiffer (Josh Saviano), always annoyed me. Thank goodness most of the episodes does not focus on the Kevin and Paul friendship because I couldn't care less. I was actually glad when Kevin found new best friends in season six because well, people change.

But despite these minor flaws, The Wonder Years is still amazing. There is so much emotional authenticity to the very best episodes that most shows of its kind can barely achieve or even come close. I feel like a thorn get stuck in my heart every time I re-watch some of the scenes on Youtube. Now, all they have to do is release the damn show on DVD...and perhaps this is just wishful thinking, but I'd like the original music on it too, please!

Five Links Friday (#3)

Recently, I've been feeling quite like a typical moody, hormonal teenager. I've found reasonable solace in reading, considering I don't have to speak to people while I'm at it. I just finished Little Women this morning (I will be watching the 1933, 1949, and 1994 films versions very soon) and is finally tackling Twilight--so I won't feel too left out, of course.

I've found a nifty site to keep track of all the books I've read called 1. Goodreads. It's a lovely, easy-to-use site that reminds me of IMDb for books. My account is here, so if you do make an account, go ahead and add me as a friend (since I currently have none)!

So what have you all been reading? Please discuss and feel free to recommend me anything that you'd think I'd like.

This clever and creative 2. Empire Poster Quiz challenges you to guess the movie from just one letter from the movie's poster. It was deservingly a featured link on IMDb.

The official announcement of the new "Dancing with the Stars" cast will be on Monday on ABC's "Good Morning America" but 3. Gossip Sauce has the inside scoop on the new cast. The list might be fake, but the thought of Cloris Leachman on "Dancing with the Stars" is pretty darn exciting.

Presidential candidates 4. Barack Obama and John McCain reveals their top ten songs to Blender magazine in the "White House DJ Battle" article. On a side note, I absolutely adore the illustration on the page!

For the video of the week, I present to you 5. Star Wars 20's silent film style: The Story Of Luke and Leia. I saw another Star Wars "silent film" on Youtube about an year ago and liked it, but I thought this one was especially hilarious. And please don't tell me that I'm the only one who ships Luke and Leia (well, they shouldn't have been siblings!).

Well, that's all folks! Yeah, surprisingly short, right? :)