06.30.08
“English is my second language!”
Well, it is. I pretty much learned English five minutes after I learned Bengali, though fluency in the latter came first, and now, some 30 years later, I’m definitely more proficient in the former. Yet, I still use the old chestnut of an excuse; it’s a running joke with me and my friends and coworkers. When I stumble over a word, when I do something silly that has nothing do with language whatsoever, I cry, “English is my second language! Leave me alone!” As you’d expect, many coworkers who hear me speak on a daily basis don’t buy that for a moment. Between the four-letter words and the “Oh my God!”s, I sound like a cross between a trucker and a valley girl. If you talked to me on the phone, you would have absolutely no indication of my ethnic heritage. I think people are probably just as surprised when they meet me and this completely informal slang comes out of my mouth.
So, English is indeed my second language, and I treat it like a sparkly, shiny thing I found on the beach. Each new phrase I learn is a piece that glitters, that I tuck away in a box. To go for a different metaphor entirely, I’m a walking Swiffer. I pick up idioms, speech patterns, regional dialects, because I just can’t help it. I love me some swear words like you wouldn’t believe. I had a cuss jar at an office I worked at several years ago and I earned enough to buy my coworkers a pizza lunch. (I’ve since regulated my abuse of the f-bomb, don’t worry.) I picked up “sweetie” from somebody somewhere down the line and “whatever blah blah blah” from my friend Heather. I say “hella,” because of several trips taken with friends from northern California, and “y’all” and “reckon” because I grew up in a part of Ohio where speech has a very southern influence. I say “Dude!” all the time as an exclamation… and my most famous story about that is me “Dude!”-ing my then-still-new boss. In front of witnesses. I was so mortified! Four years later, I “Dude!” constantly and no one blinks an eye, least of all the Boss Lady.
Sometimes, I even have problems accessing the vast storage of linguistic detritus I’ve absorbed. Just a couple of weeks ago, I dubbed somebody a “golddigger,” when I actually just meant to say they were a “tramp.” Funny, right? But, hey, there’s a distinct difference! Tramps aren’t necessarily out for money, whereas golddiggers do what they do for financial gain.
I love words. I like making up words (I’m notorious for conjugating Bengali verbs as if they were English ones ala I’m “aashing” and “jaa-ing” instead of “coming” and “going”). I like slipping wacky words like “kerfuffle” into articles I’ve written. I love big words, small ones, ones that mean nothing, ones that are used solely for the Internet (OMG! WTF!). I am a veritable word tramp…or perhaps a word golddigger, since, as a journalist, I definitely use them for financial gain.
Soap Opera Weekly: Blogging With Mala
I’m probably preaching to the choir here, but why do soaps, soap actors and soap viewers all get such a bad rap? Sometimes, I feel like everywhere I turn, all I see is scorn for the genre. Sports fans are lauded for their loyalty, for having pricey season tickets, lucky chairs and lucky hats. The cast of the SOPRANOS, the showrunners for LOST…they all get kudos for being SO talented. But soap operas are the redheaded stepchildren of media. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve gotten the “ew!” look from people when I mention where I work, or, worse, the “oh, that’s too BAD!” look. Like soaps are something to be ashamed of. Baseball fangeekiness is acceptable; sci-fi fangeeking means you’re probably a brainy nerd, but soaps…? GASP! Heck, furries probably look down on soap fans. (If you don’t already know, don’t ask.)
People assume that soaps are just 40 minute filler between pitches for stay-at-home-moms to buy paper towels and toys… that soaps are unimaginative and created by people who couldn’t get “real jobs” in Hollywood. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. Look at the CGI used during the Metro Court hostage crisis on GENERAL HOSPITAL and the choreography of all those action sequences. That was freakin’ awesome. Watch Cassie’s death arc on YOUNG AND RESTLESS. Talk about some of the most exquisitely painful and authentic writing and acting! I would rather watch GUIDING LIGHT’s Kim Zimmer doing Reva’s “Slut of Springfield” speech on repeat than ever watch Nicolas Cage’s Oscar-nominated performance in LEAVING LAS VEGAS again. I’m a total sucker for Jack and Carly’s 10-year saga on AS THE WORLD TURNS, whereas that loved-by-women-the-world-over hit, The Notebook, made me laugh my butt off. And for all the “soap actors suck” snobbery, Julianne Moore, Brad Pitt, Meg Ryan, and Demi Moore are just a few people who got their start amidst the suds. For all those SUPERNATURAL and SMALLVILLE fangirls who think Jensen Ackles and Justin Hartley are sooo hotttt…where do you think they came from?
One of the things that I always see soap detractors saying is that you can quit watching a soap for years, come back, and nothing has changed. O RLY? I’m sorry, but saying GENERAL HOSPITAL under Gloria Monty is exactly like GH under Jill Farren Phelps would be like saying there’s no difference between a Woody Allen film and a Michael Bay explode-a-thon because they’re both movies. The oldest soap on air is 71 years old… I’m thinking it has changed in all that time. (Okay, anybody watching GL this year knows that firsthand!) Soaps have definitely adapted to the times, have absolutely played with storytelling conventions and taken chances and pioneered storylines that primetime TV would take years to come up with. Soaps have tackled interracial relationships, abortion, gay rights, the AIDS crisis and autism. They’ve mined society’s darkest issues, like rape, and turned them inside out. (Something I don’t necessarily agree with, but there you have it.) Soaps are not amateurish, fluffy, idiot fodder. (Hey, I know you’re all thinking about PASSIONS, but you have to admit that its wholehearted embracing of camp is admirable.)
And let’s not forget the most important part! Anyone who works for one of the magazines or one of the shows knows full well that you can’t fool a hardcore soap fan. They’re smart, and woebetide anyone who forgets one of Erica’s husbands on AMC or who kills someone off publicly and brings them back to life (yes, B&B, I mean Taylor and I’m looking at you). People who watch soaps come from all walks of life, all educational levels, all genders and all sexual orientations. They aren’t just housewives (Hi, Mom!)…and, really, where does anyone get off using the “just housewives” tag anyway? Housewives are not chopped liver! My mom ran a household and raised two kids, and she is way sharper than anybody I’ve met in a New York bar claiming to have an MBA. Of course, the MBA would probably sneer at hearing I work for Weekly, while my mom was the first person I called when I met GH’s Tristan Rogers (Robert) back in 2005.
So why all the haters? Why is watching a soap something we need to whisper and blush about? Personally, I’m proud to be a soap opera viewer, and proud to work in the soap opera industry. If that makes me a redheaded stepchild, so be it. Just call me Ginger!
originally posted on soapoperaweekly.com
06.27.08
Soap Opera Weekly: Blogging With Mala
So, I’ve already mentioned that I’m generally okay with GH’s Jerry holding everybody hostage at Metro Court last year and still being around. Basically, as long as 90% of Port Chuck continues to treat him like he’s scum, I’ll be fine. Once everyone decides he’s made of sunshine and puppies, however, it’s a different matter. He’s actually teetering on the edge for me right now because he filled Alexis’ office with flowers and is all googly-eyed. Stop that! You’re a villain! I feel like there are things that a show shouldn’t ”get over.” It’s one of my biggest pet peeves to see a character’s ugliest moments glossed over and explained away.
Here are some of my biggest “Oh, HELL no” moments in daytime: (Warning, there are some YouTube clips, and they are disturbing.)
1. AMC’s Ryan going all AngerBoy on Greenlee just because she wanted a baby and he didn’t. Not only did he grab her and verbally abuse her, but he faked his death just to get away from her and her baby. How does everybody in PV still think this man is a prize?
2. GH’s Sonny shooting Carly in the head while she was giving birth. Bullet. Head. Need I say more? I have no idea how every woman Sonny’s been with manages to get out that obligatory “you’re a good man” mantra without choking. Heck, I should probably give Sonny a separate number on the list for Karen and the Paradise Lounge…
3. GL’s Jonathan seducing his own virginal cousin, Tammy. Yeah, I know they turned into this “great love story” within a year, but honestly, that part bored me to tears. The fact that this messed-up creep had a twisted love for Tammy was interesting. When they forgot he was an incestuous creep? Trite and insulting.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=_vFOnhLUDms
4. DAYS’ EJ forcing Sami to have sex with him to save Lucas’ life. WHY hasn’t Roman shot him in the face? They’ve full-on forgotten this little gem in Salem, but since this is the same town where nobody remembers Jack raped Kayla, I shouldn’t be surprised. Pretty soon they’re going to give EJ the “Man of the Year” award. Ick.
5. GH’s Ric putting Carly in the Panic Room. How did this guy end up married to Alexis and in the position of district attorney after he did that? He was going to murder Carly for her fetus! He almost suffocated his wife, Elizabeth (whom he drugged and seduced so he could nab Carly). Did we ever see him in therapy? In jail? Taking some antipsychotics? Nope! It was just: Voila! Ric’s a law-abiding citizen.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=aAs_-js8iV0
6. OLTL’s Todd and Marty. They’ve finally remembered what a nutjob Todd can be, but for a long stretch of years, he was just a “wacky guy,” and, “Hey, a guy who loves his kid can’t be all that bad!” Then, of course, they had crazy Margaret (which is also Marty’s real name) rape him, as if two rapes suddenly make a right. Uh, not so much.
(The following clip is of Todd threatening Marty later. The actual gang attack is on YouTube, too, for the morbidly curious.) http://youtube.com/watch?v=bkkpf5z6Les
7. DAYS’ Jack forcing himself on Kayla. (See the mention in No. 4.) Somehow, this case of marital rape never gets brought up by anybody. Instead, Jack is beloved by all, most of all by Jennifer, the ingenue he fell in love with when she worked at his paper. Um, ewww. I love me some Jack and Jennifer, but I repeat…EW.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=SdEYpwEpUzI
8. GH’s Luke and Laura at the campus disco. I feel like this one event probably changed the face of daytime. It was retconned into a “forced seduction;” into a “youthful mistake.” It set the precedent for “chemistry excuses everything,” and is probably why the Todds and EJs of the soap world exist. Anthony Geary is awesome, no doubt, and he deserves every single Emmy he’s won, but the fact that Luke the rapist saved the world and got a lifetime free pass still rankles me.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=x_wQJfwH_uA
Notice a pattern? Notice that it’s all about violence against women? Why does a genre geared towards women consistently glorify the abusers of them? Jerry is not a hero. Jerry is a great villain. He’s like GL’s Roger Thorpe or DAYS’ Stefano DiMera. He should never be a Jax or a Lucky. I don’t get how villains get turned into heroes just because the actor is cute or charming. Can you imagine that as a defense in real-life court? “Case dismissed because you’re a hottie!” Me neither. So why do we let our soaps get away with it?
originally posted on soapoperaweekly.com
06.24.08
A random act of poetry.
of a feather
Dark shape on the window ledge,
a puffball, head tucked into its breast.
For the moment, it’s not a nuisance,
just a sleepy creature at rest.
Not “shoo,” not “scat,” not “get,”
it’s noble and sentient and streaked with grey.
High above the city, the king of birds,
on the ledge the pigeon rules the day.
May 3, 2008.
06.23.08
The 35th Annual Festival of Torment Emmy Awards.
What does it say about me that I was in front of the TV in my PJs with a 100 calorie pack of chocolate-covered pretzels at 6 PM on a Friday? #1. It says I used entirely too many prepositions in that sentence. #2. It says I probably need to invest in a TiVo! #3. It says I must really be into pain. Because let me tell you, watching the Daytime Emmys coverage live for four straight hours could probably be considered akin to sending someone to Guantanamo Bay. Luckily, I had one friend on the phone and another three on Instant Messenger to help me through the torture.
Is it just me or are awards shows just not what they used to be? I remember glitz, I remember glamour, I remember people being in the bathroom when their names were called. I remember bizarre drunken rambles that were actually hilarious instead of boorish.
This year’s Emmy pre-show on SOAPnet was rife with technical difficulties and hosted by people who talked about deodorant issues, were entirely too preoccupied by the Shoe Cam, and who deemed Tyra Banks, an off-key Rhapsody in Bronze, the Best Dressed of the night. *shudder* And I’m not even going to get into some of the specific faux pas made by specific hosts.
06.20.08
Soap Opera Weekly: Blogging With Mala
Tonight is the 35th Annual Daytime Emmy Awards bash in Los Angeles, and I’m not even going to attempt to make predictions. Trust me, I’m bad at it. You should’ve seen how far my jaw dropped back in 2005, when I was sitting in the press room at the New York fete (come baaaack here, Emmys, come baaaaack!). Pretty much everyone who was announced had me going, “Wait, WHAT?” Mala, meet Left Field.
As an alternative, I offer up completely manufactured awards courtesy of yours truly. They required no predicting whatsoever and are all in good fun.
Most Entertaining Show: DAYS.
Show With the Best Guest Stars: OLTL. Between Snoop Dogg and Nathan “Captain Tightpants” Fillion coming back as Joey, I’m sold.
Best Breakup: Y&R’s Nick and Victoria cutting ties with Big Daddy Victor.
Dopiest Breakup: (a tie) ATWT’s Carly and Jack and GL’s Bill and Lizzie.
Best Love Scene: GH’s Jerry and Alexis (Because there wasn’t one and I’m a giant prude!).
Most Trauma-inducing Love Scene: B&B’s Rick and Taylor (There was bare thigh! Ack!).
Biggest Jerkface: OLTL’s Todd.
The Miranda Montgomery Cutest Baby Award: (a tie) GL’s Sarah and B&B’s Jack.
Most Wasted Potential: GH: NIGHT SHIFT’s Cody and Lainey.
Most Froth-inducing Storyline: (a tie) The Ameera arc on ATWT and Nick throwing dying Katie a prom on B&B.
Character Who Could Throw Me a Prom Without Me Frothing: AMC’s Adam. (Y’all thought I would say GH’s Jerry or DAYS’ Philip, didn’t you?)
The Ric Lansing “What Panic Room?” Insta-Redemption Award: DAYS’ EJ.
The Flowers in the Attic Award: GH’s Johnny and Claudia.
The Chester-the-Molester Skeevy Pairing Award: DAYS’ Daniel and Chelsea.
Best Impersonation of a Cartoon Heroine: ATWT’s Justine Cotsonas (Sofie), for her rendering of Snow White (albeit before Sofie went crazy).
Best Impersonation of a Cartoon Villain: Y&R’s Judith Chapman (Gloria), for her divine channeling of Cruella DeVille.
Most Missed Veteran: Drake Hogestyn’s eyebrow. (I love RoboJohn, but that eyebrow is classic.)
The Dorian Gray Portrait-in-the-Attic Award: Billy Warlock. (The man never ages…and someone get him back on a soap!)
Best Death Scene: GH’s Emily. (*gurgle-thump*!)
Worst Death Scene: GH’s Georgie. (Splayed out the park steps? That was repulsive.)
Biggest Unsolved Mystery: (a tie) ‘How does DAYS’ Philip manage his prosthetic during love scenes?’ and ‘What the heck are IN Sonny and Jason’s shipments on GH?’
originally posted on soapoperaweekly.com
Egads! The end is nigh…ish.
You know, for a city with such a badass reputation (“New Yorkers are mean,” “New Yorkers are rude,”), New York sure is populated with a bunch of wusses. Before someone beats me with a stale bagel or run me over with the crosstown bus, lemme ’splain.
This morning, I was watching NY1, my favorite channel EVER, and they had a whole segment on “vicious” and “huge” raccoons running around Harlem, with sound bytes from terrified residents. I am not doubting that raccoons CAN be dangerous when approached, but their mere existence? Not so horrific, folks. I guess city dwellers just aren’t used to critters that aren’t sewer rats or yippy, little dogs on a leash. As someone who grew up somewhere where raccoons getting into the trash and deer eating your flower beds was commonplace, I found the NY1 story SO hilarious. They called 311, they called the Parks Department, they called Animal Control… all of whom were pretty much like “uh, as long as the raccoons aren’t rabid, we’re not obligated to do anything.” I hope reps from all of those agencies laughed their collective asses off, because it was damn sure funny to me! The ominous reporting playing over clips of these innocuous little bandits rifling through the trash… ROTFLMAO! Maybe they should have edited the clips so Rocky Raccoon and his pals were standing too close to a three year old and looking menacing?
Then, there’s how New Yorkers get when it rains or snows. Oh my God, it’s like the End of Days! Everyone runs around all “Oh, noes! Oh, noes!” and just loses their shit. One little t-storm hits and the weathermen act like it’s going to rip the Chrysler building from its roots and send it to Oz. The subways get packed with the sodden masses, an inch of snow on the ground causes mass panic… it’s so hilarious. I always want to be like, “Chicago called, and they think you’re a bunch of pantywaists.”
And, yes, I’m one of the pantywaists, too. I hate rain and I hate vermin. (Rats and mice, that is. A raccoon would not make me flip out.) It’s just the over-the-top reaction to such mundane matters that cracks me up. New York is a bold city, a brash city, a remarkable metropolis that spits in the face of adversity… unless the adversity is inclement weather and a furry omnivore. LOL!
06.16.08
The Love Guru: Harenmakeester and a bee in my bonnet.
Every weekend, I revel in living in a metropolitan area with diverse cable access programming. I watch shows like Namaste America, Showbiz India, and AVS. I devour them like people devour Extra and Access Hollywood and Entertainment Tonight. I get my desi fix. Except this weekend, where I tuned in and got a good half hour pitch for The Love Guru, which is about as far from desi programming as you can get.
Guys, I get that it’s a journalistic coup to be let into the press junket and to get to talk to Mike Myers and Justin Timberlake and all… but WHAT IN THE FRESH HELL WERE YOU THINKING?
The Love Guru is so cheap, so degrading. It boils India down to all the basic, common conceptions: mystical mumbo-jumbo, The Kama Sutra, unpronounceable names, and Bollywood. I’m sure the studio and Myers’ party line is something to the effect of “lighthearted romp,” and “it really shows the ignorance of the West and isn’t meant to insult the East,” and “an eventual moral lesson,” but that’s a load of bullshit. That’s ALWAYS the excuse when a minority is skewered for entertainment purposes. “Oh, we’re actually being tolerant and educational. Just watch the movie and you’ll see.” Yeah, right.
I doubt anyone will come away from this movie more tolerant or the least bit educated. Even living in New York, I encounter people who are SO clueless about Indian culture that they ask me if I was thrown out of a window to see if I’d bounce, if I know anyone who gave birth in a train bathroom, and if I worship rats. People are stupid, okay? The Love Guru just panders to that stupidity.
I watched a bit of Myers’ interview and my perimeter alarm began to blare when Myers’ mentioned that the caricature of Guru Pitka came from his need to deal with his father’s death. Danger, Will Robinson, danger! Red alert! It reminded me of the time I encountered an actor in a bar and he expounded about how the poor people in India have so much “joy.” Millions of women across the country think he’s hot; thanks to that, I will always think he’s an idiot. Why is that Westerners always feel this patronizing need to turn to India to find themselves, to answer unanswerable questions? Can’t that be done in Idaho or something?
But oh, my friends, it got worse.
You probably don’t know Jack.
In between unsuccessful attempts to get some writing done, I finished reading two new romance novels: The Lost Duke of Wyndham by Julia Quinn, and The Charm School, by Susan Wiggs. Quinn’s work offered up one of the most engaging heroes I’ve come upon in a romance in a while, Jack Audley, while Wiggs’ gave me a heroine in Isadora Peabody that was so painfully close to my own experience that I had to put the book down a few times.
Let’s face it: Characters are hard, but characters are also where a story comes from. I almost never start with plot, which is probably why I have such a hard time coming up with middles and ends. I always, always try to craft the protagonist and let the story come from him/her. What do they want to tell the reader? Obviously, in a romance novel, there is a very distinct boy-meets-girl-stuff-happens-and-they-live-happily-ever-after formula, so that even when you’re crafting a strong, effective character like Jack or Isadora, you know “Well, somewhere in the last two chapters, I have to get them together.” But the mark of a good romance is that a reader cares whether or not they get together.
06.13.08
Soap Opera Weekly: Blogging With Mala
So, I started watching GUIDING LIGHT again this week. Yes, it appears we’ve kissed and made up. Mind you, I’m still seeing DAYS OF OUR LIVES at random hours and in between seeing ATWT. (I’m so promiscuous!) At any rate, now that GL and I are on again, I’m heartbroken by the fact that Bill and Lizzie are still off again. 
Just watching Daniel Cosgrove and Marcy Rylan together for a few minutes is enough to showcase that GL’s biggest mishap (next to backburnering Kim Zimmer’s Reva) is how they have broken up so many functioning and wonderful couples just to create pairs that evoke a big ol’ “meh.” Cosgrove and Rylan have the kind of tempestuous chemistry and engaging humor that every soap needs in a banner couple, and the only thing that was harder to believe than Bill impetuously proposing to Ava during the Lewis shindig was the fact that wee Lizzie could still be standing after all the liquor she downed. That’s not to say Ava and her portrayer Michelle Ray Smith are chopped liver. Ava and Remy are great together, so why trump up all this unnecessary Ava/Bill stuff?
Another head-scratcher is Kane Manera’s G. being used as romantic all-purpose flour this week. I’ve opined about what else is wrong with the character elsewhere, but my new beef is this: Is there a girl they haven’t tested him out with? In a three episode span, we got G/Daisy, G/Lizzie, G/Dinah, and G/Ashlee. G/Golly Whiz! Dial it back, folks! Manera is good-looking and all, but the show needs to pick a gal and stick with it. My vote would be for Dinah since she’s age appropriate and they could easily be a smokin’ Big Bad duo — at least until somebody wakes up and realizes Dinah and Mallet need to be reunited. (And I’m not just biased because their pairing name is ‘Malah.’)
As for my own romantic conundrum, I’m going to be watching GL for the foreseeable future, just because I’m now rooting for Bill and Lizzie and I do want to see where G. will end up. But if DAYS’ Philip gets together with Morgan, I might just have to cheat!
originally posted on soapoperaweekly.com
