niente, le ricadute. forever and ever one of the best tv show to ever grace the tv screen. dear NBC, I still hate you.
— Sarah Paulson as Harriet Hayes, Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip: The Cold Open (via rdwilliams)
Danny: I need to know how big of a problem it’s going to be.
Matt: It’s not gonna be a problem at all.
Danny: It will if you are still in love with her.
Matt: I’m not. I’m not. Danny. I love her talent. That woman has got millions of fans, but there maybe fifty guys in town that really understand how good she is, and we’re two of them. That’s all. I admire her, I’m knocked out by her talent. And I like it when she makes me laugh, and I like making her laugh which isn’t an easy thing to do, so it’s gratifying. She’s undeniable sexy. I like when she smiles at me and a couple of other things, but that’s it.
Danny: Oh my God, we are so screwed.
Matt: I know
Kalinda: What do you think?
Will: I think she’s fantastic.
Kalinda: I think she just won him the election.
Kalinda: You should tell her how fantastic she is.
Will: She knows.
Kalinda: You should tell her. People like to be told.
I want to hug these pictures. That is how badly I love them.
“Now he learns how to say it.”
my top 3 OTPs (the order is merely due to the current level of obsession: for me it’s kind of impossible to decide who comes first)
Will Gardner and Alicia Florrick – the Good Wife
Truth is I was foolishly skeptical about this tv show even before starting to watch it. This is probably because I thought about it as another ordinary procedural and I don’t get along with that kind of shows; I prefer stories with a long narrative arc that allows the writers to explore the characters and their connections. And this is exactly what I found in the Good Wife. You obviously have single cases (extremely original, well writter and approached from several points of view) but there’s also a strong continuity in a longer temporal arc connected to Alicia’s character and her role as wife, mother, lawyer, friend, lover..
And my favourite relationship of hers is the exhausting one with Will Gardner. They sum up all the elements that I demand to a love story: the previous history, the bad timing, the “will they won’t they”, the witty dialogues and the eternal gazing at each other that often replaces words and their meaning.
I think the Kings are doing a wonderful job in writing these two; I don’t know if they’ll be “endgame” -I surely hope so- but what is most important to me is Alicia’s journey so I’m ready to accept anything as long as it is consistent and well written.. included her eventual decision to stay with Peter.
In the meantime I’m enjoying this rollercoaster of emotions involving two characters and their relation as co-workers and adults that, despite their feelings, try (vainly?) to preserve their friendship.
But I must admit it certainly would be great to see them having their chance at last.
Lee Adama and Kara Thrace – Battlestar Galactica
The greatness of this show comes from its science-fiction base, which allowed Ronald D. Moore to deal with some universal themes without getting particular restrictions.
Battlestar Galactica is, in fact, a product that more than others has been capable of making us reflect upon the value of life and death, the uncertainty of humanity, the bordes of good and evil, the need of faith and the power of religion, the contradictions of war and the importance of freedom. And in this magnificent scenario stands out a pairing that healed and broke my heart throughout four season to the point of becoming one of my OTPs.
Lee Adama and Kara Thrace are the most intense and frakked-up relationship ever told on a tv show, and the fact that they’re connected on so many levels (as “family”, co-pilots, friends, lovers..) make the things between them even more damaging and epic.
As the couple mentioned above, their history goes back to the first time they actually met, and has been a matter of bad timing since then. What drives me crazy, when it comes to them, is the amount of unsaid (or maybe I should say “unfinished business”) and the fact that they were meant to be since their first meeting, but kept apart by the circumstances. And it hurts, like everything concerned to them, but it also satisfy my innermost masochist soul that thrives on sad stories and find it so powerful.
This is probably the reason why I wasn’t disappointed by the end of the serie and I find Ronald D. Moore statement so depressing yet so beautiful and poetic: “they were kind of trapped in that moment perpetually of wanting, longing, feeling but never being able to fully enjoy it or fully embrace it.”
Matt Albie and Harriet Hayes – Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip
The love that I have for this show is endless; I worship Aaron Sorkin like a God and I’m glad that lately he’s been getting so much recognition for his brilliant writing.
Speaking of which, I’m still bitter over the cancellation of Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. It was a real gem and had the misfortune to be launched along with 30 Rock and therefore got misunderstood and confused with a comedy, while it had been conceived as ‘a dramedy taking place behind the scenes of a fictional live comedy show’.
Metatelevision, I freaking love you.
And it’s no news that Aaron Sorkin drew from his own experience in creating the enviroment and the characters, especially the ones of Matt Albie and Harriet Hayes, which are the fictional matches for himself and Kristin Chenoweth and consequently share the same history, features and flaws.
As a viewer, what I like to see in a tv pairing, more than mere phisical attraction or dramatic acts of love, is a natural and memorable build-up and the way Sorkin wrote about Matt and Harriet love and their eternal clash regarding religion gave birth to some of the smartest and greatest dialogues in the history of television. There’s a scene near the end of the serie that is the emblem of everything I’ve just praised (and is probably my favourite tv moment along with the unforgettable final scene of Six Feet Under): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o43DvwkX8WA I mean, what other couple can brag about a three minutes flash-back which sums up the years spent together using dialogues as leitmotiv? So . much . quality it still amazes me every time.
Matt: He wrote his phone number on here.
Harriet: What do you mean?
Matt: I mean he wrote his phone number on here. You didn’t see it?
Harriet: That’s his phone number?
Matt: What did you think it was?
Harriet: I just thought it was his uniform number, you know, they sign their name and then write the number.
Matt: Yeah, they do do that. You thought his uniform number was three billion, one hundred and six million, seven hundred and eight-six thousand, five hundr- he was asking you out!
Harriet: You know, now that I’ve had some time to reflect upon it I think you might be right.
Matt: Do you?
Matt: Yeah.. You gave me a used cocktail napkin, basically.
I don’t get all the hate on Aaron Sorkin. I mean, seriously? How can anyone apply the word “elite” to races? How did we get there? Sorkin wasn’t talking about white people, he was referring to everyone who strives for the best and in the end gets rewarded.
And why he gets accused of being sexist in his writing? Maybe people should broaden their horizons and take a look to Sports Night, The West Wing or the incredibly underrated Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip; I wish there were more characters like Dana Whitaker, CJ Cregg, Donna Moss, Harriet Hayes or Jordan McDeere on our tv nowadays.
And regarding The Social Network, the fact is that the whole Facebook experience started with this idea of ranking women of Harward campus: Sorkin needed to show this in order to stay true to reality. If you’re so pissed off by that, redirect your resentment towards Zuckenberg, maybe delete your FB account, but don’t blame everything on a writer who has the only fault to have written a brilliant screenplay for a great movie. It seems a bit excessive to me..
..but maybe I’m biased, given that Sorkinism is my religion.