A shirtless Adam Driver sprinting down the streets of Brooklyn like a cracked-out Adonis was not enough to save the season finale of HBO’s Girls last night. And gosh darn, those pecs…
Lena Dunham, Time-magazines newly proclaimed “Queen of Cool” is supposedly the spokeswoman for our generation. As the chosen starchild of Judd Apatow, sap suckling king of the brozone layer, we are sure to be seeing more of her semi-autobiographical exploits on HBO’s coveted Sunday-9-spot.
Despite the eponymous title, this season really had me asking myself: who is this show really about?
The Bechdel test is used to determine if there is gender bias in works of fiction. There is only one cardinal rule to pass: two female characters must have a conversation about something other than men.
Ironically, the season finale of Girls managed to failed this test so spectacularly. Not only were there no conversations, in fact this episode did not contain a single scene where one of the three female leads even spoke to each other. Marnie and Hannah were in the same room, but Hannah hid under the bed. That’s the closest the women in the show came ot speaking this episode
Rather, the plot focused on the tumultuous relationships that have been set in stone since season 1. Predictably, Marnie, through several acts of desperate self-induced humiliation is able to win back the pity of her darling Charlie, who takes back her pathetic mess and claims he was loving her through it all, despite how dumb it makes him (and yes, it makes him quite dumb).
Shoshana finally realizes the fatal flaw in her relationship with Ray, citing his lack of motivation and general pessimistic attitude toward life. She dumps his sorry ass in what was probably the most realistic scene in the season, than goes on to do exactly what she promises Ray she would never; makes out with a hunky Scandinavian.
Jessa remains verily absent. Hannah leaves a voicemail on her phone. This is the second closest two female characters come to talking. Hannah says her life is falling apart because she cut off all her hair.
And finally, our dearly frumpy protagonist HaLennah hits rock bottom in her depression/ocd or whatever self-perpetuated drama and spends most of the episode spooning cool whip into her greasy baby face while donning an oversized tee shirt.
And when things get back, who ya gonna call? Ghostbusters? Well your ex boyfriend is close enough.
And off course Adam comes running at the speed of sex to save her from her sweaty bedridden misery. With a cheesy soundtrack Judd himself must have picked out, he breaks down her door, and scoops her pathetic baby body up in his arms and they makeout.
If this season was about anything it was about the breakdown between the relationships of the girls and their dependent/unhealthy relationships with their male counterparts (who have not changed since last season). They might as well rename the series Boys, because the world these delusional kids of rich kids live in seems to revolve around a phallus in a fancy scarf. You know, the kind hipsters wear.
Last season, while the men played a central role in the plot there was a distinctive core of she-ra righteousness to counteract it. One of my favorite scenes is when Marnie returns to the apartment and Hannah is there blasting “Dancing on my own” by Robyn and dancing in her floppy-jumping dance-y way. There was just something magic there. I downloaded that song and listened to it everyday for a month.
Where did that go? When did this go from being a show about girls to a show about 20-something relationship drama? I guess I can’t blame them for being exactly like every other show out there, but I can blame them for promoting themselves as different, edgy, real, or whatever when their core values swing back to the classic prince rides in and saves the day. Seriously, if I needed something lull me to sleep to I would just watch Friends.
Is it so wrong to want a modern-day story that doesn’t need to be saved by a man?
I’ll keep dreaming.