Women are waaaacky!
July 15, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN Television Critic
First, there was that book Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus. Now there are two new Lifetime shows whose themes suggest a rawer breakdown of the male-female dynamic: men are asshats, women are crrraaazy.
In Lifetime's estrogen-titled "Side Order of Life," a female journalist sees hallucinations. That's cuckoo. She also doubts her fiance is a good man simply because he bought her a beautiful ring she loves. That doesn't even make sense.
And in "State of Mind," a therapist considers staying with her loser husband, even after she walks in on him mid-coitus with another woman.
In other words, women are either so bonkers they look for ways to destroy good relationships, or they're so wacky they attach themselves to the wrong men.
Despite this female nutcakery -- or because of it -- the debut episodes of both shows are fairly watchable. There's entertainment in crazy women and their asshats. And the actors do a solid job of portraying women in crisis.
"Side Order of Life" centers around a journalist named Jenny (Marisa Coughlan). She's happy-go-lucky until a friend battling cancer realizes life is short; she convinces Jenny to order life's main dishes, and not settle for life's side dishes.
Well! This is news to Jenny. Who knew you could dine on lobster instead of peas? Who knew you could look for a more perfect man when you're now settling contentedly with a hot guy (Jason Priestley) who bends over backward for you and your friends?
Suddenly, Jenny begins to question everything, a theory I support to grow as a person. But Jenny's self-inflicted turmoil makes her an unhappier woman for now. And the show implies only chaos can make her a capable journalist.
"Side Order of Life" feeds the earned perceptions that Lifetime is a channel for "chicks" -- and that chicks are drawn to romantic fantasy and magical surrealism.
Romantic fantasy: Jenny accidentally calls some random guy, and their conversations sound like the beginning of an emotional affair. Oh, isn't it just serendipitous!?
Magical surrealism: The universe uses photos and fortune cookies to communicate supernatural messages to Jenny regarding life and love. Or maybe she's experiencing a psychotic breakdown?
The show does its best to appeal stereotypically to the husbands of wifely viewers. Jenny has a dream where she's walking down the aisle only in panties and bra. This is a nightmare for her, a dream for dudes.
Jenny, you see, could pass as an older sister of Lindsay Lohan: she's smoking hot, she's nuts and she babbles incoherently for long stretches of time.
Not being a woman, I'm surprised to learn from Lifetime that females are beset by nightmares. Both "Side Order of Life" and "State of Mind" begin with women anguishing nocturnally. Clearly, these girls need softer pillows.
In "State of Mind," Dr. Ann Bellowes (Lili Taylor) dreams anxiously she is not married to her husband. Then she wakes up and stumbles into a room where he's enjoying a lover. For the rest of the show, Dr. Ann toils with emotional fallout.
As in previous roles, Taylor plays the strong and somewhat batty woman in the room who sees through people, X-raying their failings, and informing them of flaws without sparing their feelings.
And like in "Side Order," Taylor's show also conjures a bit of magical surrealism. While Dr. Ann is listening to a patient prattle on, she spots a ghostly vision of herself walking up behind the client and pretending to kill her.
It is true "Side Order of Life" and "State of Mind" are ripe to be mocked for grade-A chickness, but they aren't bad.
Coughlan finds the nice subtle undertones so Jenny seems more real and less cardboard.
And Taylor, being one of Hollywood's underutilized great actresses, makes "State of Mind" interesting just by appearing in it. Taylor's supporting cast is quite good, too.
Yes, Jenny and Dr. Ann are functional loons. But at least they are about to save themselves and shake codependency with men. In an interview once, Taylor weaved a fine rationale for such roles:
"I would rather play someone who's f---ed up and deep than someone who's one-dimensional and invisible. I would rather drive something and be crazy than be forgotten and nothing."
I couldn't have put it any more succinctly, crazy lady.
delfman@suntimes.com
BY DOUG ELFMAN Television Critic
First, there was that book Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus. Now there are two new Lifetime shows whose themes suggest a rawer breakdown of the male-female dynamic: men are asshats, women are crrraaazy.
In Lifetime's estrogen-titled "Side Order of Life," a female journalist sees hallucinations. That's cuckoo. She also doubts her fiance is a good man simply because he bought her a beautiful ring she loves. That doesn't even make sense.
And in "State of Mind," a therapist considers staying with her loser husband, even after she walks in on him mid-coitus with another woman.
In other words, women are either so bonkers they look for ways to destroy good relationships, or they're so wacky they attach themselves to the wrong men.
Despite this female nutcakery -- or because of it -- the debut episodes of both shows are fairly watchable. There's entertainment in crazy women and their asshats. And the actors do a solid job of portraying women in crisis.
"Side Order of Life" centers around a journalist named Jenny (Marisa Coughlan). She's happy-go-lucky until a friend battling cancer realizes life is short; she convinces Jenny to order life's main dishes, and not settle for life's side dishes.
Well! This is news to Jenny. Who knew you could dine on lobster instead of peas? Who knew you could look for a more perfect man when you're now settling contentedly with a hot guy (Jason Priestley) who bends over backward for you and your friends?
Suddenly, Jenny begins to question everything, a theory I support to grow as a person. But Jenny's self-inflicted turmoil makes her an unhappier woman for now. And the show implies only chaos can make her a capable journalist.
"Side Order of Life" feeds the earned perceptions that Lifetime is a channel for "chicks" -- and that chicks are drawn to romantic fantasy and magical surrealism.
Romantic fantasy: Jenny accidentally calls some random guy, and their conversations sound like the beginning of an emotional affair. Oh, isn't it just serendipitous!?
Magical surrealism: The universe uses photos and fortune cookies to communicate supernatural messages to Jenny regarding life and love. Or maybe she's experiencing a psychotic breakdown?
The show does its best to appeal stereotypically to the husbands of wifely viewers. Jenny has a dream where she's walking down the aisle only in panties and bra. This is a nightmare for her, a dream for dudes.
Jenny, you see, could pass as an older sister of Lindsay Lohan: she's smoking hot, she's nuts and she babbles incoherently for long stretches of time.
Not being a woman, I'm surprised to learn from Lifetime that females are beset by nightmares. Both "Side Order of Life" and "State of Mind" begin with women anguishing nocturnally. Clearly, these girls need softer pillows.
In "State of Mind," Dr. Ann Bellowes (Lili Taylor) dreams anxiously she is not married to her husband. Then she wakes up and stumbles into a room where he's enjoying a lover. For the rest of the show, Dr. Ann toils with emotional fallout.
As in previous roles, Taylor plays the strong and somewhat batty woman in the room who sees through people, X-raying their failings, and informing them of flaws without sparing their feelings.
And like in "Side Order," Taylor's show also conjures a bit of magical surrealism. While Dr. Ann is listening to a patient prattle on, she spots a ghostly vision of herself walking up behind the client and pretending to kill her.
It is true "Side Order of Life" and "State of Mind" are ripe to be mocked for grade-A chickness, but they aren't bad.
Coughlan finds the nice subtle undertones so Jenny seems more real and less cardboard.
And Taylor, being one of Hollywood's underutilized great actresses, makes "State of Mind" interesting just by appearing in it. Taylor's supporting cast is quite good, too.
Yes, Jenny and Dr. Ann are functional loons. But at least they are about to save themselves and shake codependency with men. In an interview once, Taylor weaved a fine rationale for such roles:
"I would rather play someone who's f---ed up and deep than someone who's one-dimensional and invisible. I would rather drive something and be crazy than be forgotten and nothing."
I couldn't have put it any more succinctly, crazy lady.
delfman@suntimes.com
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