WORDS Aoife Ni Dhochartaigh
Teen drama isn’t where we go to think about social justice. Generally, teen drama isn’t where we go to think at all. The kind I’m referring to – American primetime soap opera – tends to be categorised as mindless entertainment. The characters are pretty, the scandal is plentiful, and there’s usually a lot of money involved.
It doesn’t always look like money. Take Gossip Girl, a show populated by billionaires. You couldn’t throw a stone on the Upper East Side without hitting a trust fund. And I’m sure cash appeared onscreen, but I honestly can’t remember a specific incident where we saw so much as a dollar bill. The money appeared as penthouse apartments, cocktail dresses and expensive artwork, and it was everywhere, all the time. The Vampire Diaries is maybe a better example, because the characters’ wealth is taken for granted; it’s not the point, the way it was in Gossip Girl. Most of our main cast in TVD belong to the “founding families” of Mystic Falls, an exclusive – and wealthy – club.
This trope isn’t a bad thing in itself. That’s the point of fiction, isn’t it? We get to experience other worlds and then return to normality, like invisible tourists. It becomes an issue when the characters are arbitrarily rich, and nobody talks about it. We’re being told that this is normality: “The majority of people are rich, you guys.” There’s just the occasional Trusty Poor Friend, but it’s okay because if they’re industrious enough they’ll get a scholarship and go to college and end up rich anyway. This is the mythology of capitalism: “Anyone can be rich!” If you’re not, you’re doing something wrong.
IT BECOMES AN ISSUE WHEN TV CHARACTERS ARE ARBITRARILY RICH AND NOBODY TALKS ABOUT IT. WE’RE BEING TOLD THIS IS NORMALITY.
That’s why US network ABC’s The Lying Game, about twins who were separated at birth and put up for adoption, is unexpectedly great. Sutton was adopted by the wealthy Mercers, while Emma grew up in the foster system. Sutton could have been poor, and Emma rich. Or they could have both been poor, or both rich. Emma is poverty-stricken in Vegas; Sutton is living it up in Phoenix. It’s not a case of not working hard enough, or not wanting it enough. That’s not how the world works. Sometimes – spoiler alert – bad things happen to good people.
Sutton asks Emma to take her place while she searches for their birth mother. Emma becomes a Mercer, in a world where walk-in closets are the norm, and the country club is a home from home. And yes, the show becomes largely about rich people, but the crucial difference is that we’re seeing them through Emma’s eyes, and she takes nothing for granted. When Laurel, Sutton’s adoptive sister, finds out that her boyfriend is a runaway foster kid squatting in a local house, she doesn’t really get it. Cue a lovely scene with Emma, who does: “I think you need to be in Justin’s shoes to understand. Not everybody is as lucky as you . . . and . . . I are.”
The beauty of it is that we still get to ooh and aah at the pretty dresses and the shiny cars. We’re just not allowed to forget that they’re a privilege.
