Behind the Door

I was up until 2 a.m. watching back episodes of a new ABC show called Once Upon a Time, which isn’t nearly as cheesy at it sounds. This is how I know for sure that I’m a TV junkie. And I don’t just like the high brow shit. I’m all about The Vampire Diaries and Fringe, Prime Suspect and Grimm, Dexter and True Blood. (Umm, I vote that Dex and TB have the best music/image montage-intros ever made for tv).  The television drama, whether teen angsty, supernatural inspired (the networks’ new obsession is “the fairy tale re-examined”), or cop procedural, I’ll bite. But the same isn’t true for the sitcom. I’ve watched The New Girl a few times, which can be funny but mostly sucks. If you’re going to invest in television watching, you want some meat with your potatoes, no?. I want to be invested in characters’ lives because something important or meaningful is happening, not because they’re embarrassed that they accidentally flashed their roommate in the communal bathroom or burned the Thanksgiving turkey in the dryer (yes, this happened to overly quirky Deschanel in New Girl). I want life-or-death, even if it’s in the guise of hot teenage vampires or Snow White or parallel universes. Which is strange because I love to laugh–maybe we’ve outgrown the sitcom format as a culture, and what used to be funny is now just tired, even if it elicits a laugh here or there. Or maybe we want to watch culture at its fringes. Maybe we’re all tired of the hum drum we’re told existence should be. Normal hardly exists anymore, but abnormal does. Maybe, collectively, we’re more curious about what’s going on inside the imagination rather than behind the apartment door.

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