Post-L: Season Four in the Rearview Mirror

The L Word season may be over, but the hand wringing has just begun. Will Bette and Tina ever unmix their messages? Will Shane and Paige move to the ’burbs? Will Alice keep the home fires burning for Tasha? Will Helena go directly to jail, do not cross go, do not collect $200. Will Jenny get eaten by sharks? I am particularly pulling for the latter.

Instead of a formal review (we all watched, we all can form our own opinions), I’ll just say that I thought season four was an improvement over last year. As always, the writers have continuity problems both in writing, pace and plot. Also, far be it from Mama Chaiken (TM, Scribe Grrrl) to tread lightly in the Big Metaphor department. War, it’s bad for lesbians and other living things. Tolerance, it’s best addressed through an after school specials. Daddies, they sure have a lot of issues.

We could analyses and psycho analyze until the cows came home (or at least until Bette drove that tractor back from New York to L.A.). Instead, I’ll just break down my hopes and dreams for season five. Mama Chaiken, can you hear me?

Alice/Tasha -- Listen Ilene, whatever you do, DO NOT kill Tasha in Iraq. Let the woman live. Let Alice be happy. Do not make her crumble into another pile in a hospital hallway clutching a damn singing sunflower that keeps belting “You Are My Sunshine.” I mean it. I am not above physical violence.
Bette/Tina/Jodi --Oh what a tangled web we weave. I’m actually looking forward to the love triangle we all know is coming. And, surprisingly, I’m not sure who I am rooting for just yet. I love Bette and all her micromanaging, belittling, putting people in a box ways. I love Bette with Tina (well, the real Tina - not the vein-popping, banshee-wailing bore we’ve seen for 1.5 seasons). And I’m beginning to love Bette with Jodi. Marlee Matlin has signed on to become a season regular next year, so I’m just gonna let this one play out for our anguish and enjoyment.
Helena-- The gambling addict/sex slave/personal maid storyline was a dud. Still if Helena goes to prison you could kill two lesbians birds with one stone, so to speak. Of course, we already had the Great Prison Pantomime Sex of 2004. And jail duds are so unflattering. Just please do not let this devolve into a courtroom drama. This is not “Law & Order: Lesbian Intent” (though, now that I think about it, someone get me a meeting with Dick Wolf).
Jenny -- Ms. Schecter continues to drift in the ocean. She floats further and further away, toward an uncertain horizon. Then, after living on rain water and the fish who committed suicide by jumping into her dingy after being subjected to days upon days of her endless blathering about why her damaged life is her art, Jenny hits a sandy shore. With her last ounce of strength, she pulls herself onto the unknown beach. She blinks into the sun, only to see….Hey, is that Matthew Fox? And Evangeline Lilly? Good luck J.J. Abrams. She is your problem now.
Kit -- Someone, anyone, please give this woman something to do. And please let it not be another retread of her battle with the bottle. Yes, alcoholism is a terrible disease that must be taken one day at a time. But Pam Grier deserves a real plot. She was Foxy Brown, for God’s sake.
Max -- Bring back Grace. She makes Max bearable. Just don’t let them lapse into tech talk. Unless you’re intentionally making their pseudo-computer speak hilarious. In which case, carry on.
Papi -- Find another dimension. That one you’ve been living in is so flat and predictable. I hate da playa and da game.
Phyllis -- Let Joyce and her drive off into the sunset together and only pop back up for campy effect. Cybill is best taken in small doses, just like her beloved Botox.
Shane -- Since Kristanna Loken is on Painkillers now, seems Shane’s white picket fence dreams will be on permanent hold. I wonder how the writers are going to wiggle out of that one. Honestly, I’m relieved. I couldn’t picture Shane looking very minivan today. Though, I have enjoyed the more mature, more soulful Shane. Next season let’s see more soul, less suburbs and a lot more sex. Cause, you know, yum.

And finally, one last plea to Mama C. Please, ma’am, may we have some more group scenes? The core cast’s chemistry is a thing of beauty to behold. So let us behold it more. All these separate tables are fine, but nothing beats a nice, hearty meal around the kitchen table with family. Come on, we’re all family, after all.

My Weekend Crush

I’ve always had a special spot in my heart for top-heavy country queen Dolly Parton. While country music isn’t necessarily my style, Dolly transcends the genre with her candid charm and spunky sass. Her present day larger-than-life persona is remarkable considering her real-life humble beginnings (coat of many colors and all). But rather than be a distant diva, Ms. Parton has always been refreshingly honest about herself, not to mention endearingly self-deprecating about her iconic look. Now, Dolly is back making headlines and setting lesbian hearts a flutter. While on tour in Europe, Dolly told the British tabs that she liked to fantasize while making love to her husband:

“When I have sex with my husband these days, I fantasize I am with someone like Keith Urban or a petite, hot young woman.”

Hot damn. Though, truth be told, I’m not sure I could handle that much woman. It’s kind of, uh, intimidating. Dolly went on to say that her first crush was on a Tennessee hooker.

“I thought she was beautiful. She had more hair, more color, more everything.”

Dolly, I think you’re beautiful. And you definitely have more hair, more color, more everything than anyone. Happy weekend, all.

Posh & Becky

The lesbian haircut is spreading. Though David Beckham is awfully pretty; I say we let him play for our team just this once.

See Jane have a lesbian fling

Jane Pratt, the former editor of Jane and Sassy (God, who else misses Sassy?) magazines, has revealed the name of a long-ago Sapphic tryst. Wait for it, wait for it. Wait, damn… I gave it away with the picture, didn’t I? OK, fine, it was Drew Barrymore. Jane (who - willingly or unwillingly - left her self-titled mag in 2005) is unsurprisingly in the midst of a public come back with the launch of her own show on Sirius Satellite Radio.

Jane told the NY Post that she dreams of going on fellow Sirius star Howard Stern’s show and coming clean about the same-sex sex she confessed to having years ago. At the time, Stern asked her if she had ever had sex with a woman and she said “yes,” but then wouldn’t tell him if it was someone famous. Now, she is more than ready to talk.

“It was someone famous. I did have sex with Drew Barrymore.”

Well, OK. Uh, thanks for sharing. Jane currently lives with longtime boyfriend and their 4-year-old daughter and Drew appears to be dating director Spike Jonze. But you know me, I’m an optimist, I just know those two crazy kids can work it out.

A kiss is just a kiss

The much tittered about Courteney Cox/Jennifer Aniston kiss on the “Dirt” season finale has come and gone, yet somehow the world keeps on spinning. If you missed it, you didn’t miss much. They talked like old Friends (with benefits, no less) and then left each other with a quick on-the-lips peck. Of course, the kiss had to be played out for the male gaze. A colleague catches the smooch and draws his own Dirt-y conclusions. Yawn. Though, I give Jen credit for the little butt rub there near the end. Nice.

Fashion eats its own

Donatella Versace confirmed yesterday that her 20-year-old daughter Allegra is seeking treatment for anorexia. Now, I want to be clear here, I’m not calling Donatella a bad mother. I have no idea what kind of mother she is, period. And I’m in no way making light of the very serious disease of anorexia. But, really, could this be any more ironic? A fashion designer who pushes a beauty myth on women that says you can never be too rich or too thin is now facing the consequences of that deadly message in her own home. Will this make the arbiters of our aesthetic take a long, hard look in the mirror? Will they finally see what the rest of us can already see so clearly? That you can, indeed, be to too rich and too thin. And that they might even kill you.

On an unrelated note, doesn’t the face Donatella is making look like a parody of Maya Rudolph doing a parody of her on SNL. Life imitating art imitating life. Serpent. Tail. This shit never ends.

Murder victim chic

Art is beauty. Beauty is art. Dead girls are neither.