Tune in to 'Desperate Housewives' for superb fluff
Published October 26, 2004
By Kelly Rizzetta
A Yankee fan in Boston has only one place to look for comfort
when it's Sunday night and the Red Sox lead (again) in the bottom
of the fourth: the endearingly crap-tastic world of Sunday night
TV programming. "America's Funniest Home Videos,"
"The Surreal Life" ... it doesn't get any better than
this. So you throw on your pajama pants and fuzzy slippers, break
open a bag of the greasiest, most unhealthy snack food you can
find and settle in for a night of pure, unadulterated fluff.
But what is this? Where have all the Bob Saget bloopers and
Vanilla Ice comeback attempts gone? Where are all the Hallmark
made-for-TV movies and the televangelist testimonials? Is Sunday
night television - dare I say it - looking up?
At the beginning of the fall season, the critics were certainly
ready to dub 2004-05 a banner year for primetime TV. And at the
heart of all the promising predictions was the newest addition to
ABC's fall lineup, the quirky, dark comedy-drama from executive
producer Marc Cherry, "Desperate Housewives." (Yes,
that's right, folks, the same blessed man who brought us
"The Golden Girls" in 1985.)
So if you happen to have been amongst the unlucky souls sporting
oily fingers and a worn-in bathrobe this past Sunday, you may have
also been amongst the millions of Americans who tuned into
"Desperate Housewives" to see what all the fuss was
about. And if you did, you were most assuredly reaffirmed in
your faith that no matter how highly touted this show becomes,
Sunday night fluff is still as much a part of American culture
as mom's apple pie and George Bush's speech impediment.
"Desperate Housewives," is, appropriately enough, a
show that mercilessly airs the skeletons in the closets of four
picture-perfect "modern" homemakers who reside on idyllic
Wisteria Lane. True to night-time soap form, "Desperate
Housewives" mixes the drama of "Dallas," the
romance of "Melrose Place" and the estrogen level of
"Designing Women" into a thoroughly palatable - if
not completely unrealistic - portrayal of life in suburban America.
This show, like all good fluff, has a can't-miss premise: Mary
Alice Young (Brenda Strong, known to many as "The Braless
Wonder" of "Seinfeld" fame) is the poster child
of suburban perfection, but mysteriously commits suicide in the
series' first episode. She leaves behind an eerily distraught
husband, a foursome of horrorstruck girlfriends and a flawlessly
manicured lawn.
Friends and neighbors chalk it up as another casualty of the
domestic doldrums until a menacing note from an anonymous enemy
hints that Mary Alice was going to the extreme to cover up a dirty
little secret. Now the infamous Mary Alice narrates from the great
beyond, and as the mystery of her own death becomes more and more
puzzling, she takes the audience on a behind-the-scenes tour of her
friends' private lives - all of whom have plenty of dirty little
secrets of their own.
So move over, June Cleaver. Step back, Martha Stewart. The ladies
from Wisteria Lane are about to blow the cover off your crock pots!
And what ladies they are! In the first three episodes alone,
Cherry has his girls juggling with two crumbling marriages, one
affair with a minor, three unruly children, one suspected arsonist,
two meddling neighbors and a plethora of love interests. With such
a demanding script, casting directors Junie Lowry-Johnson and Scott
Genkinger knew only the crème de la crème of small-screen actresses
could possibly fit the bill. So naturally they turned to such
accredited performers as Teri Hatcher, Marcia Cross, Felicity
Huffman and Eva Longoria to carry the show.
So after sitting through an hour of such utter rubbish, you might
be wondering what could possibly compel someone to recommend this
show. Well, let's just say that "Desperate Housewives"
is the sort of rare drivel that one can't help but love. It's the
sort of show that's so bad, it's actually been proven in clinical
studies to raise the dopamine levels of its viewers. It has fought
bitterly and won the right to call itself authentic Sunday night
fluff, and the world is that much better for it.
So get those fuzzy slippers ready, because an all-new episode of
"Desperate Housewives" is coming your way this Sunday
at 9 p.m. on ABC. ¡Vive la fluff!
© The Tufts Daily 2004. All Rights Reserved.
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