The idea for this month's column came to me during a September Carly/Jason scene. She was trying to convince him that something was not what it appeared with Hannah and her "ex-boyfriend." Describing the meeting she witnessed in the alley between the two, Carly displayed a fabulous eye for the small detail, talking about the man being pale and obviously a desk-jockey, and his wearing casual clothes that were obviously not his usual attire--"He's definitely slummin'." As she catalogued the clues she had absorbed, I could not help but think, "Carly should be a 'Small Things' correspondent." Having connected the column and Carly in my mind, I determined to write about the small things that go into making Carly one of the most fascinating characters on television.
My favorite Carly scene hasn't happened yet. Still, I feel as if it has, because Carly has described it so often and with such conviction. I refer to the promise that she made to Jason, countless times, that eventually she and Michael will come "home" to him. She has every intention, she repeatedly assures him, of someday walking through the front door of his apartment with Michael in her arms, both of them free of their ties to AJ and the Quartermaines and able at last to be a family with Jason. She has reminded Jason time and again that no matter what happens in the meantime and no matter how long it takes, her ultimate goal is to bring to life that scene she carries in her head. Given Carly's determination, I have every confidence that we will someday see this fabulous pay-off scene. Given Sarah Brown's immense talent, I have every confidence that when I watch that scene, it will be through a veil of tears, as I will doubtless be bawling like a baby.
Small Moments:
A September episode contained two particularly memorable Carly scenes that revolve around her insatiable yearning for love--from her mother and from Jason. Carly in battle-mode is a sight to behold, but Carly when she is quiet is even more revealing. Her vulnerable side, always just beneath the surface, was central to these scenes.
It was a day shortly after Bobbie and Jerry's car accident. Carly was eager to show her concern for her mother, and had picked up lunch at Kelly's Diner to deliver to Bobbie at the hospital. She ran into Jason in the courtyard, and poured out her heart to him, talking about being worried about Bobbie but unable to express that adequately to her mom, and how useless she felt, about how she always manages to screw up the relationships that mean the most to her. When the lunch sack got knocked over and the meal ruined, it seemed a sign of her continuing inadequacy, and she fell to pieces.
Jason comforted her, sensibly arranging for Tammy to recreate the meal and then wrapping Carly in a hug. It was a touching gesture, one by which Jason made obvious to the audience, if not to Carly, his feelings for her. He did not dare say anything, lest he reveal the depths of his emotions, but he offered simple gestures he knew Carly needed. That hug spoke volumes. And, for perhaps the first time, Carly's face showed that, for a brief moment, she had an inkling of the way things had changed for Jason, how he now has feelings for her separate from his appreciation of her as Michael's mother.
Sarah Brown was wonderful in that small moment, as several conflicting emotions played briefly across Carly's face as she nestled in Jason's arms. It was as if the light bulb ALMOST went on for Carly, as if she almost allowed herself to realize that her feelings for Jason were not unrequited. It did not last, but it was there. It can be argued that Carly should have noticed this change in Jason sooner, as he has been far more affectionate in recent weeks, holding her hand on occasion, touching her almost unconsciously, as when they talked on the couch in Sonny's penthouse after the mobster's "breakdown." The signals are clearly there.
Carly has not allowed herself to see what is right there in front of her eyes for good reason, however. After all, she wants love so badly, she can not trust the hope that it is within her grasp. She feels unworthy of the love and security and family she craves. As she had just been telling Jason before the embrace, given half a chance, she ruins everything precious to her. She protects herself from being hurt but not consciously realizing her dreams are coming true.
A more recent episode underscored the fact that Carly instinctively accepts the evidence that fits her preconceived notions of how life works and rejects the evidence that might give her hope. When Sonny grabbed Carly at his penthouse, when she came to talk to him about her suspicions of Hannah, Jason surprised both Sonny and Carly with the vehemence of his defense of her, the way he physically stood between them, the way he snarled at Sonny, "You don't run the world." Before Carly could absorb the full significance of how Jason had stood up for her, Sonny left and Jason lambasted her for pushing the issue with Sonny after he had begged her to stay away. One line stopped her in her tracks: "It would be a mistake to make me choose between you and my best friend." A light went out of Carly's eyes, and she seemed convinced that he meant he would choose Sonny with no qualms. That one suggestion had more impact on her than all the fierce protectiveness he had displayed earlier, because it played into her established sense of unworthiness and inadequacy.
That constant tension between feeling loved and feeling on probation, that sensation that she can never assume she is unconditionally loved, is also present in Carly's relationship with her mother. Going back to the "bringing Bobbie's lunch" episode, we saw Carly reaching out to her mother, but ultimately feeling like an outsider.
Carly had a moving conversation with Bobbie, in which she laid herself open emotionally, in the hallway outside Jerry's room. She had spoken to Jason about how much she left unsaid when she sat vigil by her mother's bedside after the accident. Having verbalized her feelings to him, she could not do the same with Bobbie. She talked to Bobbie about the exact moment she had told Jason she regretted, the moment when she had told a newly-awakened Bobbie, "Go back to sleep," instead of "I love you, I'm so glad you are okay." Bobbie, touched, told her daughter she did not need words to know Carly loved her. This was the sort of bonding moment Carly craves, but it was remarkably short-lived, and the irony of Bobbie emphasizing the unspoken over the spoken was immediately apparent.
Jerry regained consciousness at that moment, and Bobbie rushed to his side. Carly was left on the outside looking in, yet again, as Bobbie, Jax and Alexis celebrated Jerry's recovery together. It was a familiar feeling for Carly, and Sarah Brown was pitch-perfect as Carly stood at the doorway watching the family celebration, longing to be part of it but feeling she did not belong.
Carly was not upset, as some on the 'net seemed to think, that Bobbie rushed to Jerry's side. Whatever her feelings about Jerry, she wanted her mother to be happy, and wanted him to get well for Bobbie's sake. What hurt was the feeling of not belonging, of not truly being "family." Bobbie did not act as if she and Jerry were the only people on the planet when he came out of his come; she shared the moment with Jax, hugging him as they expressed their relief. She simply forgot about her daughter in the excitement, and Carly felt once again reminded that she was not family for Bobbie in the same way Luke or, at that moment, even Jax, is family. It was not a deliberate exclusion on Bobbie's part, to be sure, but, as Lancelot says in "Excalibur," "It is the old wound, my king; it has never healed." Carly did make too much of the moment, probably, but given Carly's previous experiences, it was the perfect reaction.
However, a small moment at the end of the scene showed how much Carly has matured in the past few years. She felt ignored and left out, but she did not try to barrel in and intrude on the moment. Neither did she do anything to draw attention to herself. As recently as this spring, Carly would have done one or the other. (Remember her reaction to the Bobbie/Jerry tape at the Nurses' Ball? It was all about her.) Now, she simply whispered, "Good-bye, Momma," and slipped away.
That Momma is an interesting touch, by the way. That particular endearment used to be reserved for her adoptive mother, Virginia. Bobbie was "Mother," usually with an exasperated edge to it. Lately, however, Carly calls Bobbie "Momma" more and more.
Small Details:
Tony Geary is the actor on GH best known for the small flourishes he adds to his role. Not only does he ad-lib lines, he does miracles with props, makes enigmatic statements with his wardrobe and haircuts, etc. I find myself mentally crediting Tony for things that may not even have been his ideas, in fact, such as Luke chewing out Claude for hiring a "boy band" to play at the club and wearing a tie with a dollar bill pattern on the day of Luke's IRS audit. Such small details keep Luke forever fresh as a character, forever entertaining.
Sarah Brown is equally adept at embellishing. She is always completely in the scene, contributing mannerisms for Carly, making use of whatever is at hand. When Carly is nervous or angry or frightened, she flares her nostrils. She cries easily, and Sarah is not content to stop with a flood of tears. Her nose grows red and she often has a tissue close at hand, a tissue that she clutches and picks at and squeezes between dabs at her eyes. Carly's hands are always busy. When she is nervous, she twirls a piece of her hair between her fingers, or plays with the hem of her blouse, or fiddles with her jewelry. She saws on necklaces, she spins her bracelets. When Michael was tiny and she was afraid to touch him, she used to caress his blue baby blanket, seemingly oblivious that this gesture was a substitute for holding her son.
I actually clapped with delight during a recent episode when Carly, at Kelly's, picked up a butter knife and checked her lipstick in her reflection. What a great throw-away move, and how quintessentially Carly. I am convinced that was all Sarah Brown, not something in the script. Also at the diner, during a conversation with AJ, Carly fixed him a cup of coffee I was dying to see AJ drink, since she seemingly absent-mindedly poured what seemed like half a cup of sugar into it. It was an easy gesture to miss; AJ and Carly were talking the whole time and nothing was said about the coffee. Moments like that make me long for more scenes between Carly and Uncle Luke, to see what Sarah Brown and Tony Geary might come up with to keep one another amused.
One of the small details that has helped illustrate Carly's transition into Quartermaine-hood is her evolving wardrobe. I can remember when Carly was still with Tony Jones, and I thought that if I saw her prancing around in that pair of too-tight white pants one more time, I would throw something through the television. Now she has money and the leisure to spend it, and it is fascinating to see what sort of fashion sense the GH wardrobe department is presenting Carly as having. I love to watch her experimenting with a new look, one that is sophisticated and polished and yet fresh and quirky. Her wardrobe is neither classically simple like Monica's or funky and youthful like Emily's, although it does contain elements of both. Instead, it seems to me, it is precisely what a wealthy young Quartermaine wife would wear-- fashionable, colorful, expensive. The wardrobe department gives Carly interesting sleeves and necklines, bright colors and unusual prints. Carly is a young woman with an unlimited clothing budget, a flair for the dramatic, and an interest in color and fabric (witness her interest in interior decorating), and this wardrobe looks appropriate for her as she develops a style of her own, as she becomes accustomed to having the resources to buy expensive clothing and the social calendar to need such a wardrobe.
Wonder how much of that new wardrobe Carly will bring along when she sails triumphantly back into Jason's penthouse?