Popular - I think I’m a lot of things, or at least I try to be.

Popular - 1x01 The Phantom Menace

Note: 

I haven’t really decided about the schedule yet but for now, I’ll do one episode per week and one episode of My So-Called Life every other week (there’ll probably be a bit of a gap at some point during summer for the new season of Torchwood). One of the things that intrigue me about this project is to see how the two shows compare (and, since I can’t see myself completely avoiding it, how both relate to Skins), especially since all three were made almost a decade apart from each other. 

Sam 

Sam: Have you ever stood naked in front of a mirror and looked at yourself? I mean, really looked. I did. This morning.
Harrison: How was it?
Sam: Completely horrifying.

The first thing that happens on Popular, which will now probably be forever known as the show Ryan Murphy did before Glee, is a dialogue about beauty standards and how they influence and ultimately destroy the individuals that never live up to them: Sam McPherson (Carly Pope), journalist, remarks that she’ll “never be a Seventeen girl because they don’t allow airbrushing in real life”, and then receives a honest if backhanded compliment by Harrison John (Christopher Gorham), one of her best friends: “You know Sam. I’m not saying this because we’re buds, but sometimes, under the right light, you totally escape troll status.” – only that at the very moment that Sam receives the compliment she secretly desires (yet would never admit to needing), Brooke McQueen (Leslie Bibb) enters the café and becomes the centre of (Harrison’s) attention. 

We don’t even know these characters at this point. We’ll only find out later that Sam is struggling with her life later – she lost her dad, and has rebuilt her life with her mum, but there is something missing in her life and she is trying to fill that hole. We don’t yet know that the girl who enters the café and draws all the attention is damaged, too: left behind by her mum, fighting against a severe eating disorder and low self-esteem. It’s an interesting point of departure though: Sam remains the main focus for most of the series, an unreliable narrator, deeply flawed, deeply subjective (ironically, despite the fact that she is a journalist and thrives to be objective), but the core of her issues is revealed in the very first scene of the show. Even though she would never admit it, she envies the attention Brooke gets. Sam has her ideals, but she also wants to be recognized the same way Brooke is, and not being recognizes fuels her attempts to pigeonhole Brooke and her friends as shallow human beings that one can’t take seriously. Sam feels like she is competing with Brooke, even though Brooke never consciously forced her to. Sam is the sarcastic heroine of the story, but she gets taken apart because we see that she is just as prejudiced as those she claims are the villains of her story, and she is sometimes horribly wrong. 

This is the issue Popular deals with: how popularity defines the community the show examines, but also how identity is formed by creating an adversary, by negatively defining yourself over what you are not and what you are against. I had a very different experience of school simply because Austrian schools aren’t modelled to result in the same kind of group building and social stratification as American ones are (no sports teams, no cheerleaders, no cafeterias), but the idea of forming an identity based on what you dislike or consider potentially dangerous and threatening is something that I deeply and tragically understand, something that is probably universal for all teenagers, no matter where they to school and what language they speak. 

Sam: God, look at them. They all dress alike, talk alike, they’re terrified of having an opinion or being different cause then they risk being judged. They’re like cattle… no, sheep. You know what, I’m bored with being corralled in a safe little pen. That’s why I’m going to get my nose pierced. It’s a true individualistic statement. You have to live through the pain to be worthy of the award.
Lily: That is so cool. That is a metaphor for the heinous high school experience.

Sam’s decision to get a piercing in order to differentiate herself from what she perceives as sheep is just as misguided as everybody’s else’s attempt to prove their individuality via shallow signifiers (in a conversation with her mum, she also mentions a previous incident when she tried to be different by colouring her hair – which turned on her when she found that everybody else attempted the very same thing).

Josh

Drama Teacher: Performing allows you to call up feelings and fears you can’t express in your life. Use what you’re afraid to show. Let it out.

One lesson the pilot episode of Popular attempts to teach again and again: The shallow kids are deeper than you’d imagine, and the alternative kids are (mostly) just as shallow and keen on fitting in with a specific crowd as the rest. The show frequently uses interior monologues to portray the characters’ thoughts: and, as it turns out, Brooke isn’t the self-secure queen bee Sam sees (she feels left alone with her questions about sex and doesn’t know who to ask for help), Josh (Bryce Johnson) isn’t just the popular quarterback, but has to weigh his passion for theatre against his parents’ and his team mates’ potential disapproval. The same logic that creates popular kids, normal kids and outcasts (because later into the run of the show, we will meet the true outcasts and it’s not Sam, Carmen [Sara Rue], Harrison and Lily [Tamara Mello] – the handling of them is one of the weakest points of the show as a whole) also limits and damages the identity of those who everybody considers the winners of the game. Brooke and Josh aren’t confronted with bullying, but they also have to consider their choices very carefully and feel the constant threat of losing their standing in the social hacking order (Brooke is obviously more concerned about it than Josh, who comes across as much braver and articulate than I remember him). 

It hurts him the most that Brooke, who is secretly dealing with the same issues he is facing, doesn’t understand his conflict – she only sees the potential threat in their social standing should he decide to become a “drama geek”. Brooke doesn’t really want to care about popularity, but because she has low self-esteem and because she can not see herself in any other role than the one she is currently playing, she can’t help but feel protective of her status, even though it hurts Josh (and, at the end of the episode, Carmen). 

Harrison

Sam’s conflict with Brooke is mostly based on uninformed prejudices and inaccurate attributions – Harrison John has a very personal reason for his complicated relationship with Brooke. 

Harrison: What is your deal with Brooke McQueen, you’re totally obsessed. 

Sam: No, that would be you. Admit it, Harrison. Once the spin the bottles years were gone, she bagged, now you’re Brooke McQueen’s satellite boy and it bugs you. 

Harrison: You know, Sam, sometimes you can just be so cold. 

Sam: Ok, I was brutal. I admit it, I’m sorry. 

Harrison: I’m not mad at you cause you said it, I’m mad cause it’s the truth. Every time she blows me off I’m transported back to being eleven years old, and I’m coming back from golf camp. You know, I’ve got these huge-ass ears, and the zits are just starting to pop out, and I look like a loser. But I don’t feel like a loser because my best friend since I was five is gonna be there. So I’m there, at the window of my mom’s station wagon, and we drive past her house. I can’t believe it: in two months she’s grown five inches and she’s this beautiful giantess. She’s also sitting on the back of a moped with some jock who doesn't have big-ass ears and zits and has long outgrown his Justice League of America bedspread. I drive by in slow-motion and I’m waving and grinning like an idiot, and she looks right through me. She pretends she doesn’t even see me. And it’s been that way ever since. 

Sam: Well, actually… I think you’re big-ass ears kind of fit your personality. 

Harrison: Gee thanks.  

The almost ideological conflict between Sam and Brooke is always on the surface of Popular, but I find Harrison’s issues much more true to life: popularity (and growing up in general) does have the power to divide people, and Harrison’s pain whenever he sees the girl that used to be a best friend, who is now a complete stranger to him, is one of the most moving aspects of the first episode.

Brooke

Dear diary. How many calories are in a grape. I gained 1.7 pounds this weekend. It was a box of raisonettes with Josh on Friday, that’s what did it, I know it. It’s just that he stopped holding my hand halfway through the movie and I crashed into this total panic thinking he’s disgusted by me, he’s dumping me. This is so stupid. Everything I worked hard for is happening. Isn’t this the part when I’m supposed to be happy.

Part of the genius of the first episode is that it sets up Brooke and Sam as antagonists despite the fact that their position in the social hacking order of the school doesn’t seem intentional (Brooke later, in the central scene of the episode, claims that she didn’t seek out her position) – and yet, they share a lot of issues. Sam lost her father, Brooke has an absent mother, and both of their remaining parents try their best to build a normal life for their children (““Brooke, honey, look at me. I’m trying.”) but there is still something missing. They are incomplete, as families, which is why the ultimate resolution of the first two episodes (Sam’s mum and Brooke’s dad getting engaged on a hunch, after meeting on a cruise ship) makes so much sense. They are also both very concerned about what other people think of them, even though Sam doesn’t openly admit it. Sam blames Brooke for being superficial and popular, and at the same time, once Brooke notices Sam’s attention, she starts to assume that Sam is also hiding behind a façade. They voice their mutual opinion to their respective group of friends, and even though they seem incredibly different, both in their choice of peers and interests, they come to the exact same conclusion: 

Brooke: She just gives off this air like she’s so superior. It’s sad, really. You can tell that it’s just a cover up.
Sam: I actually feel bad for her. She’s trapped in her own personal persona prison, but she can’t show that, that’s why she’s so…
Brooke: Fake.
Sam: Phoney.
Brooke: When you try to pretend you’re something you’re not, it’s just a sign of…
Sam: Low self-esteem.
Brooke: Total low self-esteem.

The premise of Popular is that these two people who dislike each other the moment they recognize each other’s existence can not avoid each other. In any realistic high school setting, Brooke McQueen and Sam McPherson would just never, ever talk and move in completely different circles, but here, they are forced together. Sam needs to gain access into Brooke’s exclusive party for her journalism project (and actually betrays Carmen, one of her best friends, while trying to get in), and by the end of the following episode, they will be forced to co-exist because of their parents. 

Brooke didn’t seek out the position as the queen bee of the school, but she slowly realizes (while dealing with some of her very personal insecurities) that it is a position that comes with power over people (Harrison puts it bluntly in a conversation and states, about Brooke’s party: “I don’t wanna crash, I wanna be invited”), a power that is easily abused. She affects the other students at Kennedy High, whether she wants to or not. Nicole Julian (Tammy Lynn Michaels) enters the new school year already planning how to use that power and openly enjoys it (“Everybody wants to be us. Such a blast deciding.”), but Brooke realizes that this thing she worked hard for – the boyfriend, the cheerleading – have gotten her in a position where she is forced to weigh her popularity against some of her ideals. Carmen tries out for the squad, and while artistically talented and the best dancer, she doesn’t meet the artificial beauty standards that, or at least so Nicole argues, were already thoroughly in place before Brooke and Nicole ever got in the position to judge, and can’t be broken without reflecting badly on those who decided to ignore them. 

Nicole: Hi Brookie, I know what you’re doing, stop staring at yourself in the mirror like you’re the 600 pound mom from the Jerry Springer Show.
Brooke: I’m not. Actually I was thinking about cheerleading try-outs and the list. Nicole, I don’t think we’re being totally fair.
Nicole: Look, honey, I know you wanna be, like, a nice person. But sometimes in a position of leadership you must adhere to the accepted social order of things and make hard-line decisions, cause if you don’t, if you make one exception, than you have to make a dozen […]
Brooke: What do you mean by accepted social order?
Nicole: What I mean is, we live in the age of Gwyneth and that is the standard by which all things are judged.
[…]
Brooke: I’m putting Carmen on the spot.
Nicole: Ok. I’ll totally support ya.
Brooke: You will?
Nicole: I’ll totally support ya when your boyfriend gets crap from his buddies because you delivered eyesore candy. And I’ll totally support ya during away games when we take the field and everybody moos. And I’ll totally support ya when you blow everything we’ve worked for our entire life cause you wanna be nice instead of disciplined. I’m there for you all the way, I’ll totally support ya.

Nicole Julian would be such an easy one-dimensional villain, except she’s not. She is Brooke’s friend. She knows, and cares, about her issues with food, and part of that very cruel speech isn’t just about protecting herself and her own status, it’s also trying to protect Brooke from making a decision that might harm her. Brooke can’t bring herself to go through with it and to change the order of things, even though she promises to do just that in an interview with Sam – and the person that gets hurt in the process is Carmen. 

Showdown

One of the things that the audience of Popular has to accept is that the characters are more insightful and articulate about their feelings and emotions than most actual teenagers are – they sometimes sound like writers, looking back on their own years in high school (Skins is, of course, the exact opposite). Many of the issues the show deals with – identity, popularity, self-esteem, friendships – are negotiated in conversations (there are subtle moments between the lines, but sometimes the show chooses to be very obvious). The central scene of the episode is the first direct confrontation between Sam and Brooke. Sam is potentially in the position of power because she is the journalist, claiming to approach her subject objectively, asking Brooke questions (in fact, she brings all her prejudices to the table). Brooke proves that she is more insightful and sensitive than Sam or Harrison expected, and she leaves them both questioning their preconceived notions. 

Sam: Could you start off by looking into the lens and telling us your name and one thing you think helps form your identity, or persona.
Brooke: Hi, I’m Brooke McQueen.
Harrison: (quietly) a hypocrite.
Brooke: And I’m a cheerleader. God, that sounded so superficial. I’m on the honours society.
Sam: Great. You recently held auditions for the cheerleading squad, correct?
Brooke: Yes, actually, today.
Sam: So will the new Cheerleaders be chosen based on how popular they are?
Brooke: No. It should be based on ability.
Sam: Great.
Brooke: Yeah.
Sam: So what you’re saying is that under your leadership you’re trying to break certain stereotypes out of ostracised kids who don’t fit in.
Brooke: Absolutely, yeah.
Sam: Brooke, you date our school quarterback, who, like you, is considered one of the most popular people in our school…
Brooke: I’m sorry, but it really bothers me that you just categorized me as one thing, I think I’m a lot of things, or at least I try to be.
Sam: Don’t you think that popular is a title or categorization you actively sought out?
Brooke: No. Not really. It’s just; it’s something that just happened.
Sam: So, some days you want a different label?
Brooke: Don’t you?

Popular is about choice and identity. It’s about how popularity and power shape the relationships of the students in school, and how individuals desperately try to navigate the unwritten rules to figure out who they want to be and how to be happy. 

Random notes: 

I thought I’d address this once at the beginning and then probably return to it later: Popular is fairly famous for having a lot of, and sometimes obvious, gay subtext (a very good example in the first episode is the scene in which Nicole Julian first sees Mary Cherry [Leslie Grossman], and we hear her enthusiastic thoughts – “so sweet, I become diabetic in her presence.”). Sadly, I failed to find the sources but I distinctly remember reading that this was intentional and the creators and writers (and probably actors) were all very conscious of it. It’s also relevant to see this in the context of when the show was made: Joss Whedon’s Buffy, which also ran on the WB (until season six), wasn’t allowed to show a kiss between Willow and Tara, and Popular does, even though it’s not a very obvious thing, toy with censorship by providing a subtext that is there when you choose to see it, but completely invisible if you don’t (there are also episodes in which homosexuality is in the text). 

Ryan Murphy went on to make Glee, which I am not sufficiently familiar with to judge on a subtextual level (but I am fairly sure that devoted fans are eagerly going to argue it’s there), and Jamie Babbit, a frequent director, made But I’m a Cheerleader the very same year the show came out, which employs some of the same stylistic elements of irony and camp to satirize the very same heteronormative clichés Popular both relies on and undermines.  

The pilot episode occasionally gives the impression that the producers tried a lot of different things in terms of style – the singer who, as part of the story, introduces the characters (the song that leads from Sam to Brooke and set them up as antagonists became the end credits song in future episodes) was abolished in later episodes, but was actually a common artistic element in late 1990s, early 2000 shows (Gilmore Girls had a troubadour in its early seasons, Ally McBeal always incorporated music as a central element). 

Sometimes, Popular is very blunt with its symbolism: Sam if fierce, and Brooke is the queen of the school. 

Also, with the blunt symbolism: Sam wakes up with the cocoa pops already in reach, Brooke can’t even bring herself to eat fruit for breakfast and wonders about how many calories a grape has (I will try to keep the obvious Skins references to a minimum, but there’s a lot of Brooke McQueen in Mini McGuinness). 

On a meta level, the introductory conversation between Sam and Harrison is deeply ironic: the girl claiming that she will never be a Seventeen girl is Carly Pope, and the only thing standing between her appearance on the show and a magazine cover is a hairbrush. 

Nicole knows about Brooke’s issues, yet throws a party titled “Phat Bash”. Actually, I found her a really intriguing character (much more than I did when I originally saw the show): She is always fluctuating between being compassionate and understanding and being horrible (but realistic in her assessment of how popularity works). Tammy Lynn Michaels is a revelation in the role, and it’s sad that nobody figured out how to use her talent after Popular ended. 

I also never really appreciated how truly sweet and idealistic Lily is (in contrast to Sam, whose idealism tends to be a bit opportunistic). 

Lily: Forget them. Their karma is to become alcoholic housewives.

Lily: And so, another season of social fascism begins. 

Sam’s hot journalism teacher crush now plays a dad on Pretty Little Liars. NEVER BEFORE HAVE I FELT SO OLD. #thankyouverymuchchadlowe

Bobbi Glass: This semester I’ve decided to introduce a, well, a game of social Russian Roulette. I call it Alphabetical Lab Partners.

Nicole: The first party of the year creates the social Siberia, and I for one do not intend to be left out in the cold.

Obscure pop reference of the decade: 

Nicole: I am so worshipping your Gwynethness. 

Gwyneth Paltrow now plays a teacher (or whatever she is supposed to be) on Glee. Full circle, I guess. TRAGIC, HORRIBLE, MISGUIDED FULL CIRCLE. (Gwyneth Paltrow won the Academy Award for Best Actress in 1998, for Shakespeare in Love). 

Lily (about Sam’s journalism teacher): He is so your alternative nation god. 

Alternative nation used to be a television show “dedicated to alternative music” on MTV. It ended in 1996. It also severely undermines his coolness that he claims to have been to a Limp Bizkit concert – by 2011, even Sam’s “Hanson on a dare” sounds more alternative, even though both bands are mostly and blissfully forgotten. 

Carmen: I have no intention of Ally McBealing myself. Again.

The “millennium madness” stuff really does seem ridiculous now. Remember Y2K? 

Obligatory movie reference: 

Past generations had Star Wars. We had Jar Jar Bings.