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Volume I, Issue v | January 1999 | ||
View a section by clicking on the links below, or read the entire review by scrolling down. The review takes up 8 separate pages, but the navigation at the top and bottom of each remains consistent.
General Hospital
General HospitalTo start, I just have to say that I was more pleased with GH in December than I have been in a long time. Things that we were complaining about in the last issue looked like they were beginning to right themselves. We had better balance, better integration, and some absolutely wonderful scenes. What a great present! Storylines were approaching crisis or turning points, and January seemed to bring the beginning of several new acts, following the revelations and decisions that had their groundwork in December. Guza seems to be starting to build characters back up, such as Alan, and we were given scenes for which I've been waiting for a long time. Bravo and brava, everybody.The Quartermaines
V: "Alexis loves it when you sing. Don't you want to impress her?" Ned: "Jake's? As in the biker bar?" I love this continued combination of V, Ned, Jax, and Alexis. It's good to have V integrated in with some other characters, and she always sparkles, whatever her emotion. I love having Nedley in some semblance of a storyline, and the dynamic with Jax is very good and a very smart move. It puts Jax back up against the Qs, which helps link the major families all together (even if we don't see the interaction yet the links are forming again) and makes him a businessman again, a side to him that was sorely lacking in the past.
Edward: "Young man, you must have more business than I do because you've been dropping by to see Emily at least every other day. I was thinking of maybe asking my accountant to declare you a dependent." Nikolas: "You're asking me what my intentions are towards Emily?" This was just good fun. I love Edward and Nikolas together, actually (remember them at Emily's modeling shoot?), and I think that the crossover between Cassadine and Quartermaine should be capitalized upon more and more. As it is, these two actors have good comic interaction, and I like what I see.
Edward: "Oh, finally. Well, aren't there any more of you?" Amen, sister, preach on.
Reginald: "Miss V. Ardanowski." Monica: "What the hell is a sprocket, anyway?"
Reginald: "Master Jasper Jacks. And I do hope this is the last of it. You know, I have other duties around here." Jax: "How are you, V?" Lila: "Don't be a stranger, dear." Edward: "I'm surrounded by amateurs! Does no one know how to play this game?" This meeting didn't ring hollow like the last one did, and that's because we're not simply repeating things. Or, rather, we're repeating them with variation--Ned's friendship with Jax, the addition of V, and Katherine back but not married to Ned. It's always fun to have an outsider watching the board meeting (Sonny's vote for Ned as CEO back in the fall of 1996 will always be my favorite, I think) for the first time, and V's interactions with Lila were priceless, as were Lila's comments to and about Jax and Edward. The bickering with Katherine, however familiar and amusing, highlighted the precise problem with her character. She is, at the same time we are to believe, a kind and caring romantic interest to Nikolas, somebody who has grown and changed through her trials and tribulations, and the same old social climbing, catty bitch she was when she was married to Ned. Perhaps it's possible to have both in theory, but in execution it's just annoying. Her motives, meanwhile, are constantly in question (or are supposed to be) where Stefan and Helena are concerned. The suspense is not killing me; I respond to it as inconsistency because we're not given enough to go on. On top of that, while her snarking at Reginald is amusing (especially if you know that the two actors are cousins--by marriage, I think, but I'm not sure), her rudeness to all hired help and underlings continues to stick in my craw. It's "classic Katherine," though there's nothing very classic about it. Ick.
A.J.: "I think you look great. I, for one, would believe anything you have to say." Emily: "Yes. 'So, Emily, why don't you tell us what it feels like to know that the entire world can see your -' etc., etc. You get the point. Why don't they understand that that picture is not me?" Alexis: "She's a very impressive young woman." Emily: "Well, as soon as I saw Elizabeth explode in the courtroom, I looked over at tom and he had this hateful smirk. I just wanted to wipe it off his face." While I've been increasingly pleased with the way the Tom Baker "ending" to the rape storyline turned out (I still don't like the convenient combination of things all into one bad guy who was not a bad guy to start out with) because of the way it's let us see Liz deal with what she thought she always wanted--the identity of her rapist--there's one thing that keeps bothering me. Emily is seemingly unaffected. She alternately flirts with and moons over Nikolas, she writes in her diary about his visits, she waltzes into the police station making flip comments about the press, she smiles as Edward's forced to let her continue to model, and we never see any of the trauma of what she's been through back up on her. She was more upset about things as they were happening than she is now, and that anxiety was mostly about her family finding out. I don't understand her reaction, and we've not been led to expect that she's shoring herself up against it and her true emotions will come out at some later time. Instead we have her sitting at a table in the PC Grill with Nikolas after the trial commenting on Elizabeth. This happened to her too, and while I don't want another breakdown in her life, I would like some sign that something major has happened.
Monica: "All right, Edward, this better be good. What has Alan done?" Monica: "I don't believe it." In the face of the bad news, these three fell into their usual roles. AJ spoke of junkies in general, fitting Alan into a category that he could understand and thereby eliding any mention of the particulars of his father's emotions. Edward started out with sarcasm and moved to determined action in the family name, also glossing over the particulars and labeling this another family crisis to be dealt with. Monica, however, refused to continue to tow the party line of tough love, and they all went to the jail to see Alan. Edward: "Why was it there? Alan, you are my son, and I have exiled you, and I've damned you to hell, and I have cut you off without a cent, and I will do it again. But to--to send you to prison for something you didn't do? Oh, no. No, I will--I will lie, and I will bribe, and I will bully, and I will threaten before I let that happen. Now, you--you tell me what evidence you think the police may have or may find against you so that I can make it disappear." Edward longs for something in this situation that he can handle--evidence that he can destroy, press that he can dismiss, etc. Perhaps that is habit, and perhaps it is his way of making the problem he doesn't know how to deal with--his estrangement from his son and his son's despair--into something he can deal with. Either way, to write his response to this off as "typical Edward" doesn't recognize the reasons behind his typical behavior. I thought this rock bottom situation for Alan was also quite illuminating of the rest of the family, and that would continue after these initial scenes.
Alan: "Does the DA not remember who I am? Does the DA not remember the $10,000 that I gave for his election campaign? I am still Alan Quartermaine. I am not a common criminal." And while AJ does classify his dad in order not to look at the particulars, as I said above, he's also dead on. Alan does just the opposite; he keeps looking at himself as the exception--as the individual--and refuses to classify himself in those very categories that would let him see exactly what position he's in.
Tammy: "And you told the cops that you did it? Otherwise, I'd be sitting where you are. Why, Roy? What am I that you should do a thing like this for me?" I adore Tammy. What Alan needs most is for somebody to believe that he's worth something. His family hasn't told him that since they put him out of the house, and when Emily has tried he hasn't heard her. He's in a position now that he can hear, but it's interesting that he can hear it most clearly from an outsider. I like his relationship with Tammy, who is, perhaps, the ultimate Port Charles truth teller because she's an outsider.
Emily: "He--he gave me some pills in case I needed them, but he ended up taking them back. I'm sorry I lied. I only did it because I--" |
Monica: "Well, she had to be told, you know. Emily is not wrong. I mean, when it was her, I never felt wounded or betrayed or abused. I just thought, 'Well, she's my daughter. How can I help her?' But with Alan, the only tools I had were anger and denial." Edward: "Hmm. When do you say, 'I don't know what else to try'? Hmm? When do you say, 'It's in God's hands. It has to be because mine are too small to hold it any longer.' There are very few problems in the world that are simple enough to just--just pay someone by the hour to point out the error of your ways. Worked with Emily, but hers was a different crisis. She didn't know who she was to us, and she needed to know that she was ours and that we would love her whatever might come. You might consider it an oversimplification, but what she lacked, we could supply. But what does my son lack? He had everything that a man could need. He had talent and money and good looks and education. And a wise and loving and beautiful wife. What else could a man want or need? You know, you--you reach a point--I reached that point with Tracey--of utter exhaustion." Monica: "And then you give up? Are we there?" I wish that Emily would be there for one of Edward and Monica's discussions. They think, perhaps, that they're protecting her, but I think that it'd do her some good to see that they're trying to figure this out just like she is. The difference, of course, is that Emily is Monica's daughter and Alan is her husband. When Emily was on drugs, Monica's impulse was to help her daughter through the trouble. Alan's drug-taking, on the other hand, is a betrayal of trust because he is her equal and her support, or is supposed to be. Emily: "With everything's that happened, how can you be sitting there thinking of me?" Alan: "I'm so ashamed." These scenes were worth months and months of Alan on drugs. While it's the father/son issues that cause most of the trouble in the highly patriarchal Quartermaine mansion, it is the women and their relationships with those fathers and sons that are often the calming or healing power. It is precisely because Emily is adopted that her words mean so much to Alan. She chose him and keeps on choosing him, and, as with Tammy, that's what he needs to hear. At the same time, perhaps she is the one he regrets hurting most because she is the youngest, she is female, and she was not always a Quartermaine. And it is therefore her forgiveness that means the most. Plus, family system and character analysis aside, these scenes were perfect. The writing and performances were completely moving, and I rewound and watched again immediately. Emily: "Mom, dad really loves us. He's just having a hard time finding his way home. I remember what that felt like. I know you don't trust him anymore, but please--please, please don't think that it's impossible that he could maybe change, surprise us, and maybe become the old Alan again. Because if you think that is impossible, it's going to be. I'm not saying that you have to believe it. Just--just try to think that maybe it will happen. Maybe." It was only after Emily's forgiveness and acceptance that Alan could face his failings and his problem straight on. And it was with Emily that we saw the beginning of his return to the family. She convinced Monica and Alan both to believe that they could change. V: "You don't think I can do it, do you? You don't think that I can find an artist bigger than you to fill your slot. Well, fine. Fine. I'll--I'll just show you. Sorry about barging in." Ned: "Well, to be honest, playing the outback is too much like Eddie Maine. And that was another time. It's not that, you know, I'll never go back there, but I'm just not ready yet." V lights up the screen whenever she comes on, and I love that she's so polite she undercuts even her own storming out of the room. I also love that she keeps stumbling into Ned and Alexis's romantic interludes, shall we say. The set up was corny, perhaps, but a little lightness and fun is just what we need on this show, especially around the holidays--a balance of fun, excitement, good drama, and happy, if tearful, reunions. We didn't get it all in spades, but we got some of all of it; the balance was getting better than it had been in a while. Monica: "It's amazing what love can endure, isn't it? I believe that you still love me. And I know I love you, in spite of everything. Maybe even more now since I realize just how close I came to losing you. Not that I don't miss the man that I married--twice. I do. I miss you holding my hand, and I miss you in the middle of the night and the passion that only--only you could trigger in me. And I--I miss our fights. I'd give anything for a great knockdown right now--but with you there and not someplace where I can't reach. Come back to me. Come back." Monica: "Yeah, Tony. I'll be fine, thank you. Boy. You come back to me. I mean it, Alan. You've been gone too long. Really, way too long. I don't know what to do with all the extra space. Come on, I wake up in the middle of the night, and--and you're not there. You know how many times I've picked up a medical journal, I've started to share something with you, and I can get mid-sentence and all of a sudden I realize you're not there. You're not there. You have to come back to me, Alan. I mean it. I figured out--I really--I really don't have a knack for living alone. Please. Oh, please." Alan: "What about the next time? I can't risk unraveling the little bit of progress that I've made by trying to do too much too soon and then failing. Just--just getting here, Monica, has taken all the courage that I had left. If I--if I slip again, Monica, I'm going to be hooked for the rest of my life." It's interesting to me just how much of Alan and Monica's marriage takes place with them apart from each other. Their troubles happen often when they're apart, or cause them to be apart, but often the healing comes with loads of space between them too. Somehow, that works for them. Even here, Monica spoke words that Alan needed to hear only when he wasn't able to hear them. And Alan said again that he needed to get better on his own, away from the family. All families have trouble, but it's always been a part of the Q family that you have to balance your participation in and your distance from the people you're related to, it seems. Tony: "You know, I've--I've known you and Alan a long time, and I know that's not necessarily something we like to remember these days, but, nevertheless, the fact remains--I was there for a lot of those obstacles and saw the way that you two surmounted them. And the way I see it--and maybe I see it more clearly than you can at the moment--you two have stayed together as a couple. You haven't lost your core. You haven't lost whatever it is that binds you together. I think you're going to make it through this just fine. Who knows? Maybe even better." Monica: "Yes, I've kind of wondered about that while I was here with Alan. I didn't know why you didn't even ask or actually demand. So I had to assume that it was either your genuine unselfish desire to care for a patient, or you had just become smart enough to know when to shut up. In either way, it's going to take Stefan to sign off on this before you can become a member of the General Hospital staff." Tony: "You know, this is not going to make you real popular with my ex-wife." This was the way for Tony to get Monica's recommendation, and I'm glad that she realized that he was doing this, as he said, for partly that reason. At the same time, he has proven that he can hold a job in the medical profession, and deserves a chance at his old job, I expect. This also serves to cause more friction between Bobbie and Monica, as well as Tony and Bobbie. But it brings Tony together, at least in some way, with Alan and Monica. It seems that his rage and anger and revenge, at this point, are in a vicious circle. Because of the reactions he gets from others, he continues refusing to admit he's done anything wrong. Perhaps a bit of acceptance from others will help him break that monotonous cycle of threats and evil grins I've grown so tired of. Tammy: "I'm proud of you. And you should be proud of yourself, too." Alan, now that he has a bit of support from people, can admit to his addiction and find his way towards starting to get better--but he couldn't have one before the other because he was in a similar cycle. Ned: "Nervous?" V: "Ladies and gentlemen, L&B records is proud to present--Chicago!" Ned: "V, I'm sorry that I gave you such a hard time about putting this evening together. Frankly, I doubted that you could pull it off, and, obviously, you proved me wrong." Alexis: "Disappointed?" The payoff to the V/Ned squabble was quite a good one. It told us something of how Ned's handling being back in the music business without Lois, and it sets up a future L&B storyline for Ned. It also proves that, once again, V's the gal for the job. It was also fun, but the thing I liked best about this scene--and others late in December--was the fact that lots of different people were all in the same room. It was a scene where people started moving from group to group and we cut from table to table, like we used to do. The integration's not completely up and running, but the month of December gave me hope for 1999.
Edward: "I don't suppose you were buying time so that that young Cassadine fellow could scamper out the window, huh?" Emily: "I'm not saying that things are perfect, but they're a lot better. I mean, now that tom is in prison and dad is in--I think that dad is going to be--is going to be all right, grandfather. I went to visit him actually, in the PCPD, and he was just like dad. I mean, he listened to me, and he cared about me, and it wasn't like I was this interference between him and his pills." This episode included Audrey's confrontation with Elizabeth about her curfew and this lovely scene with Edward and Emily--two grandparents trying to connect with their adolescent granddaughter. It was a nice comparison and contrast. The girls are in similar situations; both have faced trauma, both are dealing with love in some way, both are estranged from their family to a certain degree. I have to say that these scenes were my favorite, however. Edward is truly an old grumpus who's soft underneath, though it's easier for him to show that with the women in his family, I think. That he would take the time to check in with Emily and see how she's doing moved me, and I was glad to hear Emily talk about becoming part of the Quartermaine family. I think, though, that she's still learning more and more about what it means to be a part of a family--and, moreover, part of this family. I'm glad that Edward is invested in helping her along, even if he fails at times. It was a nice, moving scene and a nice companion piece to Emily's scenes with Alan. I'm not always fond of the writing for Emily, but when it's good, it's very good. Tony: "Why are you being so resistant to the idea? It's my role." Tony's problem these days is that it's all or nothing. When Monica recommended that he come back to GH, he assumed that meant she was on his side 100%. She's not. He tends to start scenes with that nice-guy attitude and then turn bitter at the first sign of conflict or rejection, which makes me suspect the nice approach. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to or not; I can't tell what the writers intend me to feel about Tony. Whatever that is, I'm still just bored with him. Katherine: "Has Dave Koz arrived yet?" I don't know what the point of scenes like this are. In them, Katherine becomes completely dislikable and her old social-climbing, appearance-driven self. It undermines any of the sympathy I believe we're supposed to have for her predicament, and it's simply not amusing to me.
Monica: "Alan's agreed to read the Christmas story again this year." The party itself was good as it always was, and it was nice to see all the Qs involved. It was another big scene-a scene with lots of different people, but few of them, if any, interacted with those from other storylines. Even so, the looks that were given across the room--Lucas to Tony (and Tony's to Lucas), Monica to Alan as he read the story, Luke's smile as he saw Lucky and Elizabeth together--all of those were nice touches.
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