Welcome once again to the Melrose Place Update. It is here, and only here, that you will find each week's Melrose Place episode analyzed in excruciating detail with elegantly mixed metaphors. No stone is left unturned as we strive to enlighten, embolden and empower you, the Gentle Reader.
I never ride in the middle of a roller coaster. I never ride in the front. I always choose the cars at the rear of the roller coaster train. Some people choose the front seats, asserting that the thrill is greater, the feeling of danger is heightened. They enjoy the illusion of leadership, when in fact, they are driven from behind. They, with those who sit safely in the middle's cocoon, will never know the unique perspective of a roller coaster's last few cars. There is a moment when those rear cars sit in tenuous apprehension at the peak. The front of the roller coaster has already begun its screaming descent, but those last cars remain to view a snapshot of what is about to be. The pause is noticeable only to those who participate; to people on the ground, the train represents a fluid stream of constant motion. It is a sensation that once experienced, you realize is not limited to the back of a roller coaster.
In early January, 49 B.C., Caesar had won enormous victories for the Roman Republic. Gaul and Germany were subdued and sullen territories, yet Caesar had overstepped his provincial bounds; the Roman Senate was concerned. Civil unrest was mounting so the Senate issued Caesar an ultimatum: lay down command of his legion for the good of the state. The orders expressly forbade any military moves on his part, for the other two members of the Triumvirate feared his strategy and prowess on the battlefield.
Caesar realized that complying with this request would result in his certain death, exile at best. In response, he mustered his troops along a river that formed a natural border for his province. An enormous effort was required to cross the river and Caesar recognized the finality of his decision, whichever way he chose. Ferrying men, supplies and animals would not be easy and once committed, there would be no turning back. Caesar had a vision, however; he issued the order and his troops crossed the Rubicon River.
In this era of societal scapegoats, few actions are decisive and irreversible, and that is regrettable. In Melrose Place, we meet a group of people who have crossed personal Rubicons. Arguably, their actions are neither decisive nor irreversible, but for the sake of rhetoric, let us consider their fictional lives true.
They have set sail on the same sea of self-discovery as Odysseus. To an ancient Greek, the sea was mysterious and eternal. We view the sea today as a large bathtub; an exceptionally- wide water hazard between Augusta and St. Andrews. Yet its existence in ancient mythology is not accidental. To sail on the sea was to be at peace with oneself; it was to experience true freedom of spirit. C. Bowter Vaux once said "Given a Rob Roy canoe, a paddle and a purse not entirely empty, you are at once the most independent person alive."
The tradewinds of opportunity blow daily over our lives, calling us to exotic ports and new discoveries. In former days, this may have required setting sail on a physical ocean; in modern times the ocean is a sea of knowledge. The modern explorers may not feel the sting of salt spray, but they follow the footsteps of change set by the first who challenged tradition; technology is our Henry the Navigator and vision is our North Star. Yet, it is all for naught, if we do not first cross the river.
Anchors aweigh.
- Ian
Madonna visited Melrose Place this week. Though she was not present in person, "Express Yourself" might as well have been the theme song as Spelling explored the dicey social situations life serves up a la carte. "Communication" was the goal as several characters came to grips with their feelings and expressing those emotions to the group; everyone else worried about breasts.
Home movies started us off as the Married Couple hosted "An Evening From Hell" starring Jane's home movies. After much verbal Sabre-Rattling of Witty One-Liners, the 8 mm Strip O' Life snapped, and Jane's cinematic existence faded to grey. A scene with Matt set up the next day's impending ultrasound appointment for Jane, and cleverly alluded to the previous FilmFest. Sly dogs, those writer-types...
Billy and Allison sashay back to their Living Quarters O' Lust where Allison berates Billy for his Neanderthal lifestyle. Evidently Allison does not hanker to Billy-Boy's Personal Hygiene as well as his abilities with the Dirt Devil. Billy tries out one of those lame "guy" excuses for the mess, but Allison is in this for money, and bets Billy that he cannot keep the apartment clean for a week. (Wasn't this a Brady Bunch episode?)
The next day dawns bright and early, and Michael discovers that his Mean Doctor boss will not let him take part in the ultrasound. Luckily, a Flirting Doctor throws a few double entendres his direction and sets Michael up as the brooding Roger Waters O' Melrose Place. Michael sends Matt in his place and flits off to surgery.
Back at the big MP, Billy has decided to wash his clothes, (guy-style: everything in the same load; pack that puppy) and throw Allison's laundry in for good measure. Snakebit Billy, however, chooses to gallivant 'round the laundry room with Allison's Brassiere (aka The Pup Tent) on, much to the amusement of Jake. The Sorcerer Allison, however, soon appears at the top of the stairs to glare down at Apprentice Billy and he discovers he is in over his head; even 34D cups will not bail him out of this one.
Cut to the hospital where Jane suddenly learns that the Little Bun she has been carrying around in The Oven for the last few months is getting a bit mouldy. Evidently, her Tape Player did not come with Auto Eject, so when the Tape finished, it kept on playing... Everyone assures her that losing your baby is Perfectly Normal, and we suffer through several Angst/Pathos scenes. No one reminds Jane that she drank alcohol in several episodes since discovering her pregnancy, no doubt due to some heavy lobbying by Our Friends in St. Louis, Missouri.
Spelling reverts to his Halfway Through The Show tennis match, and the story switches back and forth letting the Humble Viewer know that Michael is a Very Tough And Quiet Man, and Billy is One Insensitive Boob. Sandy tries to help out the Married Couple by getting them a (useless) dog, but Jane promptly loses the dog and Michael flips out.
Michael and Jane finally come to grips with the loss of their Sprout, miraculously coinciding with the reconciliation of Allison and Billy. And, surprise, surprise, they find the Damned Dog, but end up giving him back to the Beach Lady who found him. (Is it just me, or were there some serious Steinbeck "The Pearl" flashbacks in this ending?) By the time the closing credits rolled, peace, tranquility and happiness wafted over Melrose Place like smells from your neighbour's barbecue...
In this week's episode, Signor Spelling expands his metaphorical use of The Married Couple, while emphasizing the intrinsic layers of dependency between Innocence and Success. The overall effect was a bit disjointed, however, the symbolic development is worthy of our attention.
The Married Couple and their angst over the loss of their Child were the main story. We began with a Spelling nod toward The Past, a retrospective glance at the historical significance of Marriage, and its position in the continuation of modern society. The indirect reference to the late 1960's alerts the viewer that this development acknowledges contemporary culture, and seeks to reflect the Western zeitgeist.
The historical background deals only with Jane, for as Woman, she is prominent in Spelling's mythological constructs. Life begins and ends with her. Her trip to the hospital is a comparative journey down the couch of psychoanalysis. Much as the ultrasound sees inside of her body with sound, so too psychoanalysis delves into the soul through auditory feedback. The psychoanalyst, portrayed by the doctor, is not enamored with what he sees. (Notice that the psychoanalyst is represented as a doctor; a clever use of "trustworthy" icons in conjunction with the spiritual healing effects of the psychoanalyst.)
The Child/Life within Jane characterizes her marriage and the impending difficulties she will face with Michael. All is not well in the Union of These Two Souls, yet it takes an exterior influence to determine this. Notice at this point that Jane has abandoned her husband in favour of Matt/Conscience. Deep within her maternal psyche, she realizes that the Life within her has ceased, and struggles to rationalize this with Conscience.
For Michael, the Child also represents Life; the Life he fears lost as a result of his marriage. Although he is outwardly comfortable with marriage, the seeds of bachelorhood are never quenched within his soul, and he restlessly seeks the Life he fears Jane has forever usurped. When Michael locks the Baby Gadgets in the storeroom, he is admitting that he retains these desires, only repressing them and locking them into Closets In His Soul.
The Dog, presented by Sex to his wife represents a feeble substitute, a metaphorical subjugation of his true will and replacement with weak emotional ties. The Dog, as fictional "Man's Best Friend" serves as a constant reminder to his marriage vows, to his wife, to "His Best Friend". The appalling mess wreaked by the Wretched Wirehair symbolizes the Tattered Relationship/Mess between the Married Couple. When The Dog urinates on Michael's doctor bag, he is expressing the deep-seated hatred within Jane for Michael's Success and Career. That Sex presented this gift represents the age-old exchange of Emotional Commitment for Sexual Fulfillment. Jane losing The Dog is a confirmation that she recognizes it will not save her and in fact represents a further complication in her sordid life.
Michael is a man on the Edge, and the subplot with the Evil Temptress doctor underlines how close he is to this Edge. Here, Spelling weaves a clever plot cloth playing off the traditional Paradise Lost fable. Rather than Eve leaving Adam to be seduced by the Snake, the sexes are reversed and Michael leaves Jane to be seduced by the Temptress. We have seen her before, as the Evil Temptress who sought Everyman's downfall. She has returned, although Michael diverts her calculated affections for the moment. Spelling wisely leaves this matter unresolved; plot complications that develop allegorical religious mythologies are best explored in a complete show, not as a subplot.
In the other storyline, Spelling employs a classic Hitchcock visual effect, casting Allison/Success in the shower while Billy/Innocence vaults from the safe confines of Success' watchful eye. Success is attempting to cleanse herself from Guilt and the Trials of Life. Innocence's trip to the Laundry room with Success' laundry is clear. Allison/Success' dirty Laundry can only be cleansed through Innocence; should he fail to perform this expected duty, the Guilt will overwhelm Success. There is a profound danger in the Laundry, however, for if Innocence clothes himself in the Image of Success, he will lose the very gift that is his power. (Compare this with the mythological exploits of Achilles...)
The Brassiere evokes powerful images of the female breast. Notice that Spelling draws particular attention to the cup size; he is not using the breast as a sexual device, but rather another metaphorical example of Life. Recall that Spelling has utilized breasts before in a Maternal/Life image. I mentioned at that time the allusions to Paleolithic fertility cults and "Venus" figures. As Innocence/Billy dons the Brassiere and prances suggestively before Jake/Everyman, Spelling is implying Innocence's dawning realization of the complexities and agonies of Life. This is not lost on Everyman who deigns to stay away from the entire affair, yet is drawn into the whirlpool of discovery. Life's Mysteries are an irresistible lure to Everyman and once caught, he is unwilling to give up the bait.
When Success realizes that Innocence has donned her Trappings, she is angered and distressed. Innocence is a refuge for her, and if this Voyage of Discovery continues, she will lose her Safe Harbour. The previous division of tasks has been broken, and Innocence has had a glimpse behind the Curtain; there is no Wizard. Once Success and Innocence come to grips with Breasts/Life, the remainder of the storyline is disposable fluff.
I found it interesting that Sex was almost nonexistent in this episode. Spelling retains her character closely with Everyman, yet she only plays a minor part in comforting the Married Couple/Responsibility. The significance of this action is obvious.
We close with the Married Couple giving The Dog to a Beach Lady. She has named the dog Barney, a derivative form of the Germanic "Bernard" or "bearlike and hardy." Spelling drops a subtle hint that the bonds between the Married Couple, though loosened by this tragedy, remain bearlike and hardy. What effect the machinations of the Evil Temptress will have on their relationship remains to be seen. The show closed with a striking allegorical shot of the Married Couple/Responsibility walking into the Sunset of Time along the Beach of Life.
Sorry, no blurb for next week's show. Traditionally, this means there is no show next week and your humble scribe gets to sleep in.
Dr. Ferreud, however, never sleeps; he might dream...
Goes to the Beach Lady who found the Married Couple's pooch. After they give her Barney the Wonder Mutt for keeps, she stands there holding him like the British Occupation Forces hold their carbines in Ireland. Watch closely and see her glance offscreen to the animal handler during a particularly troubled moment...
So, several weeks ago, we ran into Billy's computer which changed from a Macintosh SE into a Macintosh Plus in one episode. In the last episode, he struggled to express his angst on a Macintosh Plus. Well, in this episode, he had the Macintosh SE back which, surprisingly enough, looked like the Macintosh SE in the Married Couple's apartment (which disappeared halfway through the episode). Maybe Jane was playing a few games of Crystal Quest to relax and beat Michael's high score...
"My mother never looked that young." - Jane to Melrose Place clan; cut to L'oreal commercial. Coincidence? You make the call.
Melrose Place...
"Gosh; the feeling of real silk on my skin..." - Billy to Jake, modeling Allison's bra. Jake decides he had better have "The Talk" with Billy *real* damn soon...
"I'm so sorry." - Allison to Jane, packing a fair bit of emotional baggage into a tiny "so".
"It's you body's way of dealing with things that aren't right." - Allison to Jane. Geez, I just usually get gas...
"Why do people keep saying that?" - Jane to The World.
look on his face and passes out.