 The O.C. Executive-produced by McG (director of the superfun, superfluffy Charlie's Angels films), the show brings teen soap opera back to basics, dispensing with the tiresome self-referential irony of shit like Dawson's Creek and Felicity. Set in ritzy Newport Beach, the Orange County Beverly Hills, the show follows brooding bad boy Ryan (Brandon Walsh and Dylan McKay rolled into one), who, when his mom takes off with her deadbeat boyfriend, moves to Newport from Chino (the other side of the tracks) after being taken in by his attorney (the surprisingly delightful Peter Gallagher). In his new digs, Ryan acquires a quasi brother (Seth, the Bryan-Austin Green character), a crushgirl (Marissa, the Jennie Garth), and a nemesis (Luke, the Steve Sanders of the bunch). Each episode revolves around Ryan talking with Marissa, getting into a fight with Luke, and somehow inadvertently stealing a car or burning a house down. He's not so much bad as the victim of persistent bad luck. Tate Donovan is on hand as a shady neighbor, and there's even an Emily Valentine character already (a potential girlfriend for sk8r boi poseur Seth, who reads comics and listens to the Clash). The writing is sharp, setting up clichés and then subverting them, offering endlessly surprising variations on the usual teen drama scenarios. It's hip enough to grab the Gilmore Girls part of me while nurturing my deep 90210 roots. As this is the first season, there hasn't been ample time for The O.C. to get silly, or delve into many "issues." So far so good … although secretly I will probably enjoy it even more once it does. Bring on the painkiller addictions! Um, I mean for me, not for the show.
Review by Angela Slap-Happy © 2003 |