Welcome to the Melrose Place Update! Finally there's an Update that supports fuller-busted women. Introducing the new 18-hour "Comfort Stretch" Updates. Written with Lycra so every sentence stretches to give you a full 18-hours of comfortable reading material and television analysis support. Try the new 18-hour "Comfort Stretch" Melrose Place Update today. You'll be so glad you did!
Writing is damned annoying. You start with a thought, a will- o-wisp of inspiration to turn into words. You start with a point, an experience, and the only way you can share it with others is with a long line of adjectives. "Here's a smell!" cries the Muse. "Describe it with colours." In the end, the writer is nothing more than a choreographer, someone who can convince all those little letters to smarten up and march in step with the song in his heart.
Marshall McLuhan abhorred the entire concept of linearity. In his view, linear type and the logical thought which sprang from it forced mankind into cold forms of expression; each devoid of the hot information which provides the essential context needed to understand and experience. To Professor McLuhan, it didn't matter at all what was said if it remained trapped in a medium which restricted and enclosed interpretation. It is useless, he said, to plant seeds of thought in a media desert.
Today, standing in the shadow of industry and automation and linearity, there is a shift toward things non-linear. House and trance music moves away from organised sound; the rhythm becoming a carrier, an envelope of experience and environment where the listener flees order to merely "exist". Current events explode on stage attracting the singular gaze for a few seconds before the next random distraction muscles its way to the forefront. Even in the buttoned-down print arena we find publications which, through apocalyptic layouts and terrifyingly-expensive Day-Glo inks pursue linearity with all the passion of a Spanish Inquisition.
The endless barrage of sight and sound, smell and touch creates an entire experience, a foreign experience above and beyond normality. Away from the monotonous lines of static text, behind the rigid walls of organisation lies a non-linear world; the real world we live in but one which many are ill- prepared to deal with. The twisting path brings us, inevitably, to Melrose Place.
"Sequential" or "linear" are not the first Melrosian adjectives that come to mind. The traditional television situation comedy or drama consists of a corporate body with distinct group goals. Some element, a plot complication, threatens these goals and ultimately the group's well-being and existence. The plot meanders for a while seeking its own individual solution until the complication is solved 40 minutes later through group unity and concerted action. "United we stand", "one for all", and all that.
This is not Melrose Place.
Melrose, by contrast, is an environment populated by free electrons, individuals who float aimlessly in a thick, plot-like syrup until a passing gamma ray of Fate strikes them. There are no corporate goals, there is no coherent group to be threatened. Each individual stands on his own worth, mercilessly assailed by the gods and subject to their whims. The concept is not that strange: the Greeks had their own Melrose Place nearly three thousand years ago. Whether you say Melrose or Mycenae, Jake or Jason, Alison or Ate, the story remains the same.
A linear world is a coldly predestined world, a deterministic existence where result follows naturally from action; where accountability sleeps with honour in some unholy union. In the non-linear world the emphasis falls on the present with no concern for the future. In this world you don't ever have to worry, you never have to look ahead. In the non-linear world, you forget about the problem for a day or two and it will disappear. In the non-linear world you can live forever in the now.
The modern opiate is experience and escape, it is a driving bass, a trance-Atlantic glide which sweeps the observer off to the netherworld of unreality. Buried in the folds of experience lies a modern Peter Pan, ready and willing to transport each one to a Neverland where he will never grow old. A land where he cannot die. It is no longer rote facts marching neatly one after the other. It is a world where you can once again sit next to the fire, close your eyes and forget; if only for a minute.
"Television's perfect. You turn a few knobs... and lean back and drain your mind of all thought.... You don't have to concentrate. You don't have to react. You don't have to remember. You don't miss your brain because you don't need it. Your heart and liver and lungs continue to function normally. Apart from that, all is peace and quiet. You are in the man's nirvana."Ex cathedra,
- Raymond Chandler, in a letter [dated November 22, 1950] to "Atlantic Monthly" editor Charles W. Morton.
- ian
Episode Title: "I Am Curious Melrose" First Broadcast: September 12, 1994
Wow. Six months pass since my last fix of Melrose Place and the producers see fit to unleash Kathy Ireland's incredible acting talents on the season premiere. Glech! Bring back the Pool Guy, bring back Amy Locane, bring back Psycho- Dance-Funk-Groove-Workout-Queen Rhonda: anything but Lisp-Lady!
Our happy story begins at the Wilshire Memorial Hospital, famous for making all of its doctors take the Hypocritical Oath at least once an episode. Gland Man Mancini, aka the Testosterone Twit, is ridin' the Gurney into surgery for Head Trauma. Seems the car accident set off some nasty echoes in Mancini's Cranial Cavern and the ringing just won't stop. Cue Kimberly to rush onscreen overflowing with the Milk of Human Kindness. Blech!
The Police, being All-Knowing, stop watching "The Fugitive" long enough to arrest Jane and haul her sorry haircut into jail for attempted murder and reckless endangerment of fashion principles. "What? Do you think I tried to kill my ex-husband!" Jane snaps with a murderous glare. "It wasn't me, it was the One-Brain-Celled Sister. Find her!" The Police dutifully free Jane and set their sights on Sydney.
Syd catches wind of Jane's tattling and tries to work out an alibi with Kimberly. Oh no! Sydney getting an alibi from Kimberly is like Bill Clinton calling up Bob Dole for some help on Whitewater. Syd's alibi leaks all over the D.A. so he hauls her protesting coiffure into jail on Murder 1 charges.
Michael recovers with three small exceptions: he loses his memory and gains a whopping bandage on his head not to mention a conscience. Yup, you heard it right. Michael Mancini is now a polite, warm, caring man who thanks people, speaks kindly to children and pats little dogs lovingly on the head. In short, he's become a swarthy Stuart Smalley and doggone it: People like him! Quick, someone call the Pap and Treacle Police!!
Meanwhile, Alison and Meredith are therapising in San Francisco, unaware that Psycho Pops is outside watching Their Every Move. Why is it that I spend 7 hours in San Francisco and get two parking tickets and Pop Parker can sit there all day in his primo spot with nary a glance from the Meter Maid? Damn! Either way, neither girl notices the car sitting outside all day with that guy who Looks A Lot Like Dear Old Dad.
Meredith gets hungry and decides to pick up some take-out food. She leaves and cues up the Melrose Mystery Music, augmented with lots of droopy chords and Hitchcockian shadows. Alison starts freaking out and wanders around the house closing the umpteen-billion open windows. Faster than you can say "How'd he get in?", Dear Old Dad is at Alison's throat, reminding her that she forgot to do her Homework. Yikes!
Just when you're about to remove Alison's piece from the game, Meredith shows up with her trusty .38 and waves it in front of Dear Old Dad. To make matters worse, Billy shows up all blubbery and blustery. After a brief shot at Melrose Place Twister, Pa Parker breaks free and heads for the hills. Billy comforts Alison as Meredith plays Odd Sister Out with a pitiful sigh. Fade to black with Alison determined to Make Daddy Pay even if it alienates Billy [it does, of course] and stresses the crap out of Meredith [it does, of course.]
In the third plot, Jake is out on his boat after breaking up with Amanda. The Luckless Lad has Had It Up To Here with women and all their catastrophic shenanigans and just wants to get away so his head will stop throbbing. [Jake wants to pamper himself with a new box of Calgon...] As if our Modern Day Job doesn't have enough Boils On His Brain, he hears a cry for help and discovers a dripping wet Kathy Ireland off the Port Side. Gack!
Wee Wittle Kathy wisps her way into Woverboy Jake's stony heart and he offers the terrified Bikini Babe sanctuary from her Psychopathic Hubby. Never mind that she can't act worth a hoot: Jake can't figure things out worth a hoot. Suffice it to say that Ms. Ireland is Oh So Grateful for Jake's Generosity and drops more sexual double entendres than Gene Rayburn could drop in any single episode of "Match Game". Jake wisely resists this modern-day Bret Sommers, but he is only human: I say another episode and he's Burnt Toast.
Matt got one scene where he walks into Michael's room and holds his hand. Very touching, pun not intended, especially since Matt supposedly hates Michael.
Good day! I would like to try a different tack for this week's analysis. Miss Tjing observed recently that I analyse each episode from a predominantly Western male perspective, which to her means that I consistently miss the true point. I professed my innocence and begged her to enlighten me on a better explanation for the current swirl of agony writhing around Alison and Meredith. Her points were quite valid, and with some element of humility, I shall try to convey her thoughts as best as I, a bloated Caucasian product of the Western male machine, could hope to convey.
Alison's storyline is not an elegant introspection of secretive alien cultures on Earth for some hellish respite, but rather a demonstration of socialist feminism's primary issues. Her father is a monster, but one created by a system empowered by centuries of masculine definition until it resembles nothing more than a poorly-contrive homage to the glory of Western man, steamrollering countless civilisations in the name of economic "progress". In this episode, Alison and her sister awaken to the violence and exploitation of women throughout the course of historical development. Not only does Alison realise her father's evil, but her eyes open to the continuing cycle of sexual and psychological bondage if she should marry Billy.
Billy is nothing but a transparent shell of the "modern sensitive man"; an ineffective, simpering creature who, despite his supposedly "non-offensive" exterior, follows the same bitter agenda of all men: to control and exploit women. Certainly his methods are subtle, but Billy still tries to exert his will over Alison. Through the Myth of Love, Billy constantly seeks Alison's sacrifice, the negation of her will as an individual in deference to his authority. Evoking strong elements of the Myth of Romance, Billy pouts and panders to break Alison's new-found individuality.
Alison wants to pursue her father, seeking revenge against this demonic personification of masculine violence against women. It is Billy who, in typical male socio-sexual doublespeak serving only to cover up the sins of a fellow man, urges her to whitewash the entire affair and "get on with her life". What life can she have as a woman living in constant fear: breathing fear every waking moment and pursued by it in her dreams? Alison felt power and freedom once, as her sister held the father at bay with her gun. For Alison, her life becomes a quest to relive that moment for she has no life to "get on with" until that point.
Miss Tjing gently reminded me that it was Mao who spoke in 1938 of power that grows from the barrel of a gun. Normally I would interpret the handgun as a phallic symbol reflecting Meredith's desire to express a masculine quality. [This was before I explored the writings of Professor Dworkin.] As if a woman must always assume a male mantle to triumph above adversity! In classical feminist imagery, Meredith holding her father at gunpoint symbolically castrates him; she assumes the position of dominator, usurping the power jealously held by all men. To a man, this is the ultimate blow, for "[Man's] worth is totally contingent on the possession of phallic identity", as Professor Dworkin posits in her riveting collection "Our Blood" (chapter 4).
To be sure, I was stunned by this interpretation. The Freudian explanations for feminism are well-founded, yet to see such a stark feminist treatise buried within the luxuriant folds of Melrose Place is astounding. Consequently, I believe I will take next week off, and with the able assistance of Miss Tjing, explore additional elements of socialist feminism's ideals within Melrose. Until next time!
"If you keep throwing my tenants in jail, I'm going to have a tough time making the mortgage..."
- Amanda, as usual, feels the pain with everyone else.
1) Every interior shot of Meredith's house was accompanied by a cable-car jingling foley. Too bad there were no trolley tracks visible in the exterior house shots.
2) Amanda's dark roots came and went with their predictable regularity.
3) For a man Clinging To The Edge Of Life, Michael sure had a lot of visitors in his room. And what's Matt, the resident social worker, doing roaming around an intensive care ward shaking hands with the patients?!
1) The "Hospital From Hell" finally gets a readable name: "Wilshire Memorial". With Mancini and Shaw on the job, no doubt the "Memorial" is there for a reason.
We received a number of notes along the lines of "I'm looking for 90210/MP/Models Inc. mailing lists. Know of any?" Well, there are several and here's a list of everything we know about. No warranty is stated or implied. :-)
"Spelling Follies"
Covers Melrose Place, 90210 and Models Inc. with episode summaries and
commentary. To subscribe send mail to
Rose Ellen Auerbach
(auerbach@ucscb.ucsc.edu).
"Melrose Place Mailing List"
Mailing list with high traffic. To subscribe send mail to
majordomo@tcp.com with "subscribe melrose-place" in the message
body. If you want info, send mail to
majordomo@tcp.com with "info" in
the message body.
"90210 Mailing List" Mailing list. No idea what the traffic is like. To subscribe send mail to majordomo@tcp.com with "subscribe 90210" in the message body. If you want info, send mail to majordomo@tcp.com with "info" in the message body.
"Models Inc. Mailing List"
Mailing list with high traffic. To subscribe send mail to
listadmin@vmpyr.wro.dec.com with "subscribe models-inc" in the message
body. If you want info, send mail to
listadmin@vmpyr.wro.dec.com with "help" in the message body.
"A cute cerebral swelling..." - Dr. Levin stares intently at Kimberly's extraordinary, ever-expanding cranium. By the end of this season, odds are she'll look like one of the Tellurians from "The Cage".
"I'm sorry." - Amanda, the wacky mugwump, apologises to Alison for insisting that Grover Cleveland was the 23rd President of the United States when in fact he was the 22nd and 24th...
"I'm sorry; I've never seen you before in my life..." - Michael wakes up with his brain still in Cleveland.
"I'm sorry." - Jake to Amanda. He ordered his brain mail-order from Cleveland but it never arrived.
"We are in this together." - Alison to Meredith as the Melrose Place cast take their places on stage for a resounding chorus of "Kumbaya"...
"I called in sick." - Amanda to Jake. I tried that last week but they sent me a box of Kleenex and told me to get my sorry butt in to work. Maybe if I started wearing mini-skirts as short as Amanda I could get more respect around the office...
"You call this healthy? I have a gun on you and my baby sister is jumping out windows!!" - Meredith enjoys another quiet evening at the Pa Parker Petting Zoo.
"You turned me into some sort of prize!" - Jake objects to driving around with Regis and Kathie Lee. It could be worse: he could be trapped in a hot, sweaty "Prize Patrol" van all day with Ed McMahon...
"No alibi..." - Detective Truman glances over to Jane seconds before Phil Blackwood wanders on stage with an arrow in his butt. Higgins!
"Look at it from my side." - Billy tries to straighten it out.
"It's not easy being a white knight..." - Alison to Billy. There is some irony floating around here.
"What? Just a kiss? I can do a lot more..." - Kathy Ireland to Jake who is rummaging around in his boat for a swimsuit and muzzle...
"Just remember, friends do it too..." - Kathy Ireland to Jake. Not if that friend has the voice of a three-year-old and the face of a dead 'possum...
"I'm sworn off that." - Jake takes one look at Kathy Ireland and decides it's time for him to find God, or at least a monastery...
"Avoid the family." - Meredith warns Alison too late.
"Sans argent l'honneur n'est qu 'une maladie [honour, without money, is just a disease.]" - Jean Racine, "Les Plaideurs", 1668. And Jake is the sickest man of all.
"It's a lie! Someone's been putting these lies in your head!!!" - Ma Parker flees from the Evil Words of her daughter.
"I don't feel like you're thinking clearly." - Pa Parker notices another factoid of life at Melrose. Wait 'till he runs into Kimberly, or should that be Kimberly running into him?
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