I Never Meant To Cause You Any Sorrow, I Never Meant To Cause You Any Pain, I Only Wanted To See You Laughing
--"Purple Rain (Cover)", Kate Nash
It was Toby that pointed it out. The second season of Everwood should be out in stores this week, she had told me while I was visiting. I couldn't not have been more surprised if you'd have slipped ice down the back of my shirt.
I had absolutely no idea they were even releasing the second season. I mean--the first season came out in DVD in 2004 and here they are releasing the second season in 2009? It doesn't make any sense to me. Ask anyone. I was bitching and complaining that one of my all-time favorite shows, the only show next to Avonlea that I would gladly purchase the entire box set for all five seasons if only they would get off their asses and actually release it as such. But eventually my fervor died down. I came to accept that I would never get to see the episodes I had missed in its original release, having only caught on to the show about halfway through the second season. I just thought I'd have to content myself with season one for the rest of my life (even though I thought the show hit its stride in season two and three). Yet once more the studio gods would have conspired to cause another tragedy in my viewing patterns.
It's a weird feeling I possess now that I can purchase it again. I'm starting to remember all the old reasons why I loved it. I'm starting to remember more and more of the secondary characters that made it such a joy to watch. I'm starting to remember more of the compelling plot lines that had me going "Oh lordy, what is it this week." I think that's one of the main reasons why I relished the show so much. It was just so much drama. I mean--yeah, it was kind of unrealistic just how screwed up everyones' lives became over the course over four short seasons, but somehow they managed to keep up the suspension of disbelief just enough for me to come back to it week after week. Silly or not, the writers knew how to string out an overarching storyline for the entire season. Soap opera writers didn't have anything on them in terms of wringing every last bit of tension from a scenario over ten, even fifteen episodes. From Colin's accident and subsequent brain surgery to the whole subplot about Nina and Andy eventually ending up together--Everwood had the hook of deeply moving plots that weren't solved in the course of a single episode or even a single season. Of almost any show I know, it had the greatest sense of continuity regarding itself.
Yet even that's not the reason I kept on watching. More than any other show, even Avonlea, Everwood was the greatest exploration of romantic love in all its triumphs and tragedies, its mundane details and eccentric nuances, and its almost disheartening complexity. Avonlea had the concepts of community and family down, but for matters of the heart between a man and a woman--young and old, white and black and all the other colors of the rainbow, healthy and sick, and every other way two people can meet and fall in love--you had to turn to this show. I had to turn to this show. Perhaps it's merely because I started watching this show after I had just ended things with DeAnn for good (as friends as well as more) or that my watching it coincided with Lucy getting married and no longer having as much time for her old friend, but the show filled a vacancy in my life that it's hard to put into words. Basically, without a girlfriend and without someone readily available to bounce off my ideas, the show became my primary source of rumination on the great mystery of human connection. It was in one my fallow periods regarding making new friends or acquaintances so I was having a hard time ingesting new thoughts about the matter. Pretty much any new take I had on the matter came from this show. It's a strange thing to say, but it's true.
I still remember the one scene where Madison, college-age love of Ephram, is telling him how to get through the next few minutes of their break-up. She tells him to give her one good kiss, turn around, and walk to his car without looking back. Of course, he follows her every instruction, turning around and walking to his car. Then, just after he's gotten in and started the car he breaks his promise and looks to the door. There, standing more radiant than ever to him, is Madison, breaking her own promise to not be in the doorway when he leaves.
It wasn't just because it reminded me of my own situation of two people being in love who can't be together for outside reasons. It was because I honestly believed those two characters had it rougher than me that I teared up. Never mind how it reflected my own life. That's only the bait on the hook. The real selling point of how much they got characters and how much they got what it's like to have and lose love is that I actually found myself saying, "I'm glad I never went through something like that," when most of the time everything I see is something I can point to a corollary in my own life for.
I only wanted to see you laughing in the purple rain
That's why I liked the show--because it showed me the laughter and the tears of what it's like to be in love and out of love in ways I had never seen before in other shows. It had characters that I couldn't say "oh, he's like so-and-so" or "she reminds me of what's-her-face."
That's why I've already ordered the second season tonight.
Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers
It was Toby that pointed it out. The second season of Everwood should be out in stores this week, she had told me while I was visiting. I couldn't not have been more surprised if you'd have slipped ice down the back of my shirt.I had absolutely no idea they were even releasing the second season. I mean--the first season came out in DVD in 2004 and here they are releasing the second season in 2009? It doesn't make any sense to me. Ask anyone. I was bitching and complaining that one of my all-time favorite shows, the only show next to Avonlea that I would gladly purchase the entire box set for all five seasons if only they would get off their asses and actually release it as such. But eventually my fervor died down. I came to accept that I would never get to see the episodes I had missed in its original release, having only caught on to the show about halfway through the second season. I just thought I'd have to content myself with season one for the rest of my life (even though I thought the show hit its stride in season two and three). Yet once more the studio gods would have conspired to cause another tragedy in my viewing patterns.
It's a weird feeling I possess now that I can purchase it again. I'm starting to remember all the old reasons why I loved it. I'm starting to remember more and more of the secondary characters that made it such a joy to watch. I'm starting to remember more of the compelling plot lines that had me going "Oh lordy, what is it this week." I think that's one of the main reasons why I relished the show so much. It was just so much drama. I mean--yeah, it was kind of unrealistic just how screwed up everyones' lives became over the course over four short seasons, but somehow they managed to keep up the suspension of disbelief just enough for me to come back to it week after week. Silly or not, the writers knew how to string out an overarching storyline for the entire season. Soap opera writers didn't have anything on them in terms of wringing every last bit of tension from a scenario over ten, even fifteen episodes. From Colin's accident and subsequent brain surgery to the whole subplot about Nina and Andy eventually ending up together--Everwood had the hook of deeply moving plots that weren't solved in the course of a single episode or even a single season. Of almost any show I know, it had the greatest sense of continuity regarding itself.
Yet even that's not the reason I kept on watching. More than any other show, even Avonlea, Everwood was the greatest exploration of romantic love in all its triumphs and tragedies, its mundane details and eccentric nuances, and its almost disheartening complexity. Avonlea had the concepts of community and family down, but for matters of the heart between a man and a woman--young and old, white and black and all the other colors of the rainbow, healthy and sick, and every other way two people can meet and fall in love--you had to turn to this show. I had to turn to this show. Perhaps it's merely because I started watching this show after I had just ended things with DeAnn for good (as friends as well as more) or that my watching it coincided with Lucy getting married and no longer having as much time for her old friend, but the show filled a vacancy in my life that it's hard to put into words. Basically, without a girlfriend and without someone readily available to bounce off my ideas, the show became my primary source of rumination on the great mystery of human connection. It was in one my fallow periods regarding making new friends or acquaintances so I was having a hard time ingesting new thoughts about the matter. Pretty much any new take I had on the matter came from this show. It's a strange thing to say, but it's true.
I still remember the one scene where Madison, college-age love of Ephram, is telling him how to get through the next few minutes of their break-up. She tells him to give her one good kiss, turn around, and walk to his car without looking back. Of course, he follows her every instruction, turning around and walking to his car. Then, just after he's gotten in and started the car he breaks his promise and looks to the door. There, standing more radiant than ever to him, is Madison, breaking her own promise to not be in the doorway when he leaves.
It wasn't just because it reminded me of my own situation of two people being in love who can't be together for outside reasons. It was because I honestly believed those two characters had it rougher than me that I teared up. Never mind how it reflected my own life. That's only the bait on the hook. The real selling point of how much they got characters and how much they got what it's like to have and lose love is that I actually found myself saying, "I'm glad I never went through something like that," when most of the time everything I see is something I can point to a corollary in my own life for.
I only wanted to see you laughing in the purple rain
That's why I liked the show--because it showed me the laughter and the tears of what it's like to be in love and out of love in ways I had never seen before in other shows. It had characters that I couldn't say "oh, he's like so-and-so" or "she reminds me of what's-her-face."
That's why I've already ordered the second season tonight.
Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers
posted by mojo shivers @ 1:00 AM
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