Don't worry, guys--I've been watching 90210 again so you don't have to. Watching it on DVD is an even more absurd experience than watching it the first/second/third time on actual network television, partly because DVD-watching is intentional. I keep having these epiphanous moments where I realize that I actually chose to put myself through this. Also, clearly very few of the songs featured in the original series were actually approved for syndication rights, so a lot of the "action" scenes (the frosh week pool party, the night club visits, even the Peach Pit breakfasts) are soundtracked by the worst kind of stock songs. This bummed me out in the second season, when during the scene in which Steve gets on a Greyhound bound to find his birth mother on Christmas Eve, they replace The Pretenders' "He's Gone" with a horrifying songwriter's nightmare about hittin' the road on Christmas Eve. Now that I'm on to season 4 I'm trying to appreciate the absurdity of it. I look forward to the season when Jamie Walters comes on the scene as struggling musician Ray Pruitt--I seriously hope they just dub over all his vocals for "How Do You Talk To An Angel" with a really bad song about beating up your girlfriend, just for the sake of total plot transparency.
Anyway, the last time I wrote about 90210, I was pretty analytical. In my defense, I was also pretty stoned on cold medication, and it was so hot outside. I think I spent an entire weekend in a cold bathtub last July, pounding back episodes like my life depended on it. This year, though, I don't have quite as much energy for analysis. Instead I'm just gonna catalogue a few of the best lines, okay? Okay.
"I can't have you as my teacher in the English class and my lover in the dorms." God, how many times did I utter that same phrase during my first degree.
"It just figures that the night I break up with Dylan is the same night he gets carjacked." Such universal truths. Such gravitas.
"Do you have any plans for the rest of the week? How about for the rest of your life?" I love that Brenda accepts this question as adorable and goes on to date Stuart for at least a few episodes, rather than run screaming from him.
"You have two of the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. And I would like to see them again." This comes from the eloquent mouth of Jesse, the bartender-turned-Andrea-babydaddy. If she'd had three of the most beautiful eyes I don't know if he'd've been as forthcoming.
"You're so much more intuitive and sensitive than the girls I meet in college." Kelly's super-psycho bro boyfriend, John Sears, is such a gross manipulator.
And speaking of super psychos...
Another great thing about Season 4 is the well-crafted villain character arc. John Sears' true psychological asshattery takes about five episodes to reveal itself; they really let things develop from a nice little romance story to CAMPUS HORROR. This season is where 90210 comes into its own as far as plot and character development (I really mean this. How am I actually saying this). They've perfected the sinister stranger narrative since honing it on the Emily Valentine plot in Season 2. In fact, there's even an incredible Very Special Thanksgiving Episode where the two CalU sororities/frats, Keg House and Alpha House, are cooking dinner at a home for troubled girls, and John Sears goes all sexual predator on a headcase teen (played by the chick who played Rayanne Graf on My So-Called Life. CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?!); at the same time, Brandon hits the open road to find Emily Valentine. In a great example of parallel plotting, Emily gets more and more virtuous (instead of setting fire to homecoming floats, she's now going to study marine biology at the Cousteau Institute), John Sears gets more and more badass. It doesn't get any better than this, friends.
In conclusion, I am so glad I paid attention to my drama professors' lectures on dramatic development and symmetrical storylines and stage timelines and timing, because now I can identify it in a TV series from the mid-90s. And they say there's no value in a liberal arts education.
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