strange and random happenstance: Soap Opera

When a show is based on a book that no one has bothered to even translate into English to release as a tie-in edition with the show, as a viewer you're not expecting fine art. Which is exactly where your expectations should be in regard to The Couple Next Door. This is about pretty people fucking each other. Both literally and figuratively. Jessica De Gouw and Sam Heughan are Danny and Becka, the playful couple into swinging. Eleanor Tomlinson and Alfred Enoch are Evie and Pete, the happily married childhood sweethearts expecting their first child. The couples become friends, Eleanor and Alfred lose the baby, and the sexcapades start. Evie is a little too into it. Pete is just trying to please his wife. As for the swingers, they broke their cardinal rule of not mixing friendship and pleasure. There's large expanses of time just wasted on longing looks with music and slow motion camerawork. So. Many. Longing. Looks. Yes, I get it Starz, you're trying to do softcore porn, can we maybe get a plot to go with that? They do try to shoehorn in a plot with corrupt cops and investigative journalism and religious fundamentalism and slut-shaming and Danny having a deaf kid by another woman, but none of this matters, and in fact, none of it is resolved or will be resolved because by season two we're onto a whole new cast. Well, almost all new. One standout character remains. Which is where this show shines. When it's just pretty people and their paramours, it's nothing, when it becomes about creepy stalkers and sexual mind games, well, then it's special. Eleanor Tomlinson's Evie gets this wicked gleam in her eye as she starts to become obsessed with Danny. She knows they have a connection and due to his incredibly fertile sperm he gets Evie pregnant. Which Evie then spins into a fantasy of the two of them running off together and starting a new life. Which, yes, it could then be compared to Fatal Attraction. But the thing is, while Evie is wonderfully unsettling, it's when Alfred Enoch's Pete goes over the edge that the whole series gels. He is deranged but Enoch makes the character someone relatable. You want him to take this all to the next level. You want him to burn their street to the ground. This show understands it's soapy nature and that is why it works. If it didn't have this absurdity to it, well, then it would be pornographic schlock. Which brings us to the best character who is returning for the second season, Alan Richardson as played by Hugh Dennis. Alan takes care of his wife while spending all his free time spying on Danny and Becka. He quickly spirals out of control when Becka boots him from her yoga class. He takes revenge by breaking into their house and leaking their private photos online. But the strain is too much and he has a stroke. Which leads to him being taken care of by his wife. Who exerts exquiste revenge on her pervert husband. It's that exquiste revenge, that exqusite mania, that line between how a normal person would react to a situation and how we wish our darker selves could react that makes this show work. It's still not high art, but at times it's hilarious.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments

Labels: Alfred Enoch, And the Emmy Goes To, Babies, Eleanor Tomlinson, Fatal Attraction, Hugh Dennis, Jessica De Gouw, Plot, Porn, Pregnancy, Sam Heughan, Sexcapades, Slut-Shaming, Soap Opera, Stalking, Starz, Swingers, The Couple Next Door

Tales of the City by Armistead Maupin
Published by: Harper Perennial
Publication Date: 1978
Format: Paperback, 371 Pages
Rating: ★★★★
To Buy

Mary Ann Singleton went to San Francisco on vacation and realized she was home. Nothing her parents said could lure her back to Cleveland. Her life was finally beginning, as soon as she moves out of Connie's place, which has more kitsch than Mary Ann can stand. Connie and her were high school acquaintances and Connie happens to be the only person Mary Ann knows in San Francisco. But that won't be for long once she is embraced by 28 Barbary Lane and it's eccentric landlady Mrs. Madrigal. As Mrs. Madrigal is fond of saying, she doesn't pick her tenants, the house does. But she is responsible for the welcome joint taped to the door, and you're welcome. Across the hall from Mary Ann is oversexed Brian Hawkins, who likes being one of the only straight men in the city and views Mary Ann as a challenge. Downstairs is Mona Ramsey, Mrs. Madrigal's favorite. Upstairs, well, Mary Ann didn't even realize there was an upstairs. And in random twists of fate and happenstance that is part of the magic that is San Francisco, all their lives start to weave together and overlap and conjoin in the most interesting ways. Mona's best friend Michael "Mouse" Tolliver moves in when he and his boyfriend breakup, a boyfriend who Mary Ann happened to give a hollandaise recipe to while prowling the Safeway Marina with Connie. Brian has an affairette with Connie. Mrs. Madrigal takes up with Mona's boss Edgar Halcyon while Mary Ann falls for his son-in-law Beauchamp Day whose flirtatious ways might be hiding something deeper. The connections and relationships they forge all swirl around Barbary Lane and at the heart of it all is the benevolent and mysterious Mrs. Madrigal. Because she does have a secret, but so does everyone. Only hers might be a doozy. One people are willing to die for.

Tales of the City was originally a column in the San Francisco Chronicle leading it to be compared to Dickens and other Victorian authors whose work was serialized. Which is valid, but those authors didn't have the limitations of writing by the column inch. Each "chapter" is more a chapterette. Which makes it easier to indulge in just "one more chapter" much like DeDe Halcyon Day scarfing down a whole bag of chips in the doctor's waiting room you WILL sacrifice sleep as you devour this series. And that's the hard thing about writing a review for this book because it's more an epic soap opera stretched out over nine volumes that span forty years without real arcs, it's more episodic. In fact I couldn't remember what big moments capped this volume and I was surprised that we actually learn so little, but then again, Maupin was in it for the long game, one major plot point wasn't resolved until Mary Ann in Autumn in 2010. And I can tell you, if I didn't have, you know, a life and obligations, I'd be tearing through the remaining eight volumes at breakneck speed. Because the thing about Tales of the City is that these characters are more than friends they are family, chosen family. They can annoy you and do stupid things, you can be yelling at them hoping they can hear you, but at the end of the day there's no line they can cross that will make you cut them out of your life. In fact, when I first read this series I strongly related to Mary Ann, she's from the Midwest and naive and a bit uptight, check, check, and check, but what she does to Brian in Babycakes, I was so pissed at her, because it was something I would never do. And yes, I realize I am not the character, but this gave me many feelings rereading this book. I no longer related to Mary Ann but I understood her, she was still a part of me. This whole series is a part of me. From watching the adaptations with the dreadful Mona late at night to making ramen with my cat in the kitchen trying to get in one more chapter before the water boiled. This series is in my bones as I'm sure it is in many peoples. Now if I can just find some time to reread the next eight volumes. Who am I kidding, I'll sacrifice sleep.