Last winter, we were buried under about ten feet of powder. My teenage daughter had snowdays week after week, and it was pretty much impossible to go anywhere. Work slowed down as New England waited to thaw out. Even though my office is right upstairs, most of my clients were having a very hard time getting to theirs, and there wasn't much going on.
So, while my husband was busy shoveling, my daughter and I did what any self-respecting digital cable subscribers would do. We binged on Netflix.
For months, my daughter had been trying to turn me on to How I Met Your Mother. Being housebound gave us the perfect chance to watch it together. 9 seasons, 208 episodes, 20 minutes each (without commercial interruption).
You do the math. (Yikes.)
This wasn't my first binge. I've been known to devour all 6 hours of the BBC Pride & Prejudice in a single, heavenly, afternoon. And, sometimes, I have to binge in order to review a new show for my regular column in Women's Voices for Change, like Grace and Frankie, House of Cards, and my favorite Orange is the New Black. At one point, I even wrote a primer on binging for other would-be couch potatoes.
But, binging still feels like a very guilty pleasure to me. Not so for my daughter (who can't remember a time before on-demand TV, much less DVDs or VHS tapes); it's par for the course. Why stop your life for a particular time on a particular night to watch a particular episode, when you can watch any and every episode, anytime, any place and on any device.
I mean, really, adhering to a network line-up is so last century.
While I may be a dilettante, my daughter is a committed binger. Thanks to Netflix (which she can see on our TV, on her laptop, on our iPad, and on her phone), she has relished season after season of series after series.
How she continues to get good grades is beyond me.
Nevertheless, here are some of her best binges:
Gossip Girl
Suffice it to say, this is not the New York I grew up in! It's a show about the 2% and their teen children — who have better-looking homes, hair, outfits, and boyfriends than the rest of us.
The Office
Not quite sure what the allure was here. My daughter has never worked in an office and has rarely even been in one. (Plus, that handheld camera thing always makes me a little queasy.) But she stayed with it.
One Tree Hill
Between the love affairs, terminal illnesses, basketball rivalries, and hostage situations (seasons 3 and 6), who would ever want to live in this place? All they need is a guest appearance by Susan Lucci. Can you say s-o-a-p o-p-e-r-a?
Pretty Little Liars
Another town you would be well-advised to steer clear of. A group of high school girls have more on their plates than homework and SATs. Like murder, blackmail, secrets, queen bees, and the mysterious "A."
Grey's Anatomy
An ensemble cast portrays young doctors at a busy hospital. It has great actors and good writing, and it somehow feels more "real" than any of the above. I walked by the TV the other afternoon and a patient's artery exploded all over his attending medical student. Niiiiiiice.
My daughter's still working her way through Grey's. But, I may ask her to hit pause and watch something with me instead. Pretty much any season of Downton Abbey (5 years, 43 episodes, on Amazon Prime) will do.
After all, we have another snowstorm on its way this weekend.
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When I got home from London nearly two weeks ago, I had to catch up. On work, weeding, laundry, grocery shopping, ten days away from the gym. Was it painful? Yes.
Was it worth it? Of course.
When my teenage daughter got home from Spain a few days later, she had to catch up too. "On what?" you may ask.
Summer assignments? Her disheveled room? A fitness routine? No, no, and no.
She had to catch up on Pretty Little Liars.
Pretty Little Liars is a weekly show on ABC Family (although how it constitutes "family" fare is beyond me). It's billed as a teen mystery-thriller, and it's based (loosely) on a series of YA novels by Sara Spencer. To my daughter's credit (I guess), she read all the books prior to sitting down and bingeing the series on Netflix.
Two asides: I'm actually very happy whenever my daughter picks up a book instead of her iPhone. And, I can't really criticize the bingeing thing. I myself watched the entire first season of House of Cards in a single weekend, and got through three full seasons of Call the Midwife in less than a week. The whole "on demand" thing is deadly for those of us with a predisposition to compulsive viewing.
Back to Pretty Little Liars.
ABC Family describes it this way: Rosewood is a perfect little town. So quiet and pristine, you'd never guess it holds so many secrets. Some of the ugliest ones belong to the prettiest girls in town: Aria, Spencer, Hanna and Emily, four friends whose darkest secrets have been unraveling since Alison, the Queen Bee of their group disappeared. As the mystery surrounding Ali's disappearance resurfaces, the girls begin getting messages from a mysterious “A,” who they quickly realize is out to get them. Now, after years of tormenting and numerous shocking revelations, the Liars are united and ready to kick some “A” and uncover the truth! No longer just wanting to sit by and wait for "A’s" latest cruel attack, Aria, Emily, Hanna and Spencer take matters into their own hands and try to finally put a stop to their tormentor. As relationships are put to the test, new and old secrets are revealed and the stakes are raised higher than ever before as the Liars come closer to the truth. Will all of their sacrifices be worth it in the end?
Cue ominous music: dum dum da dum.
Now in its fifth season (wow), it maintains a steady viewership of 2.5 million (and as high as 3.7 for season premieres and year-end finales), making it ABC Family's most successful program.
Critically, it's had a less positive reception. It received a D- from Entertainment Weekly, which mused "Imagine the pitch for Liars: It's I Know What You Did Last Summer meets Gossip Girl, but like not so subtle."
(Like I wish I wrote that.)
But since when do teenagers listen to authority?
Last night, my husband had to go to a black-tie business thingy (no plus-ones, bummer), so I suggested a special night for us girls. We would order in pizza and watch a movie. My daughter demurred ...
"I have to watch something in real-time at 8," she told me.
Having caught up on everything she'd missed, she wanted to watch ... you guessed it ... Pretty Little Liars. Or just PLL for those of us in the know. I asked if I could watch with her and she seemed genuinely pleased. I warned her that I wouldn't understand what was going on, but she delightedly reminded me that actually viewing something in real-time meant that there would be actual real-time commercial breaks, during which she would fill in any blanks.
And so she did. My questions went something like this ...
"Wait, which girl is that again?"
"Wait, I thought that one was dead?"
"Wait, is she a lesbian?"
"Wait, why was she in rehab?"
"Wait, is that guy she's kissing her teacher?"
"Wait, who is A?"
Mainly, I was wondering why the so-called grownups in the little town — y'know, parents, principals, police detectives — weren't more concerned about teenagers disappearing and dying.
Frankly, I didn't understand much, but there was enough murder and mayhem to keep me interested. (Plus, I kept trying to figure out how old these supposed high school girls really were. 'Funny how Hollywood thinks nothing about shaving ten years off an actress's age to play a teen, but then ignores them completely once they reach 40. At any rate, these girls are matuuuuuure. Then again, you might be too if you'd seen everything they have. Remind me not to move to Rosewood.)
Did I love Pretty Little Liars? Ummm, no. I'm filing it away with that time I read all the Twilight books. Let's face it, I'm not the target audience. But, as long as my daughter is willing to share (and to explain, when necessary), I'm game.
And, maybe PLL puts things in perspective. After all, I sometimes watch 24 when I'm feeling stressed. A day in the life of Jack Bauer makes my own life look pretty cushy. (No matter how tight my deadlines are, at least I get bathroom breaks.)
The next time I reflect on all my daughter's teen drama, I'll remind myself that things could be a lot more ... dramatic. Dum dum da dum.
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