“You could not pay me enough to be 24 again.” – female doctor giving Hannah a pelvic exam
Two episodes in and I’m hooked. Everybody is.
Well, not everyone. The politically correct TV police are upset everyone is white. I get it. TV is too bleached.
People should stop caterwauling about it, because white didn’t start with “GIRLS.” Nor did female naval gazing, eviscerating portrayals of men, with a lead character written by the executive producer who rips the bark off of her own persona continually and does the same for all the rest of the self-centered bitches.
It’s a different beast than “Sex and the City,” but being a girl in your 20s stays the same for the privileged, no matter the decade and especially in New York. That’s where I spent my 20s after college, too, and you couldn’t walk a block without seeing an African American. Hey, but I was working on Broadway in Times Square.
That’s not the world of “GIRLS.” Executive producer Judd Apatow explained his delight after the backlash landed.
“We wanted it,” he enthusiastically explained. “That’s the point of it, really. It’s supposed to be a comedy about women in New York who are really smart, but their lives are a mess. They know they should be doing great things, but they don’t know what it is, and they have kind of a feeling of self-entitlement about it. That’s the joke of the show.”
“GIRLS” is about a small slice of the female population. Several of the actresses are from privileged families and so are their characters. They also have acting chops, so if things were fair in the entertainment industry and there were actually cattle calls for parts this ripe, every single actor would be in the running for the part in which she is cast.
The chemistry proves the formula is just right for the show, with plenty of room to address multicultural reality in a second season, something Lena Dunham has said is on her radar if they get a second season.
But in the lives of these girls, just maybe their whole world is white and that’s part of it. Get it? Many didn’t.
Hannah Horwath is obsessed with the fear of getting AIDS. In the second episode of “GIRLS,” she shares why she’s going to get an STD test, which was preceded by an afternoon of Googling the possibilities of a condom not protecting, not to mention the horror of scary stuff around its rim, all the while inspecting her vagina.
“…and then when they pull out it’s fucking mayhem. I’ve been diagramming it in my head all afternoon. And no one speaks about this.” – Hannah Horwath, played by Lena Dunham, executive producer, director, writer of “GIRLS”
The Catholic League will need something strong for this one and it’s only a matter of time before Bill O’Reilly’s head explodes. Mitt Romney would commission a filter.
I couldn’t stop laughing. My husband just looked at me. This is what a chick flick should be about; identity combat, not gooey fantasies.
Waiting in a women’s clinic for Jessa, played by Jemima Kirke, who has decided to get an abortion, Marnie, played by Allison Williams, whose father is NBC’s Brian Williams, is pissed that her friend hasn’t shown up yet. Marnie grabs the phone from Shoshanna, played by Zosia Mamet, who’s leaving a message for Jessa, and drops her two cents into Jessa’s voicemail, too.
Marnie’s had it with Jessa and vents after hanging up.
“…There is seriously nothing flakier in this world than not showing up to your own abortion. [...] … She should fucking return our calls or something or at least send us a text.” – Marnie
Shoshanna explains Jessa:
“uh… She doesn’t really know how to text. She calls it a word alert.”
Shoshanna is different. When she goes along with her friends on sex talk, there’s just something oddly off key about her comments. When Shoshanna finally spills it, telling Marnie she’s never had sex, her humiliation is total.
Marnie is positively speechless.
“…I don’t know what to say, I mean. I hit a puppy with my car once. I only had my learners permit.”
Only the horror of killing a puppy could compare to still being a virgin after college!
In the doctor’s office for her exam, Hannah just starts babbling. The doctor scolds, then lays out why her statement that it’s easy to live with AIDS today because of pharmaceuticals is whacked. With. Statistics.
Hannah’s response to the pelvic exam begins where we all did way back when.
“…Is that painful?” asks the doctor.
“Yeah, but only in the way it’s supposed to be,” Hannah responds.
The 21st century version of only a man could have come up with the idea of stirrups and that cold steel vagina scoop.
The writing is samurai sharp, performances to match from all the women, as well as the men we’ve met so far. The subject matter is real for these girls and it’s hilarious. F-bombs fly, orgasm-challenged sex complete with men who either ignore their pleasure or love you but don’t know what a girl needs to be turned on by a man. Who can’t relate?
Oh, and Jessa isn’t actually pregnant.
While having anonymous sex in an alcove at a dive bar in the middle of the afternoon, which is why she was late to her own abortion, the guy touching her reveals the evidence. She couldn’t even be bothered with a pregnancy test. The passion proceeds, with Jessa not learning a thing from her scare. It’s not like she’ll have to live with consequences.
You wonder if Hannah will either. Her problem is getting summarily cut off from cash by her parents after they carried her for two years after college. Must have been nice, but now mom has taken charge, because daddy isn’t up to it. Panic ensues, but Hannah’s first job interview is a flame out on purpose.
Hannah isn’t too concerned. Life will go on.
HBO Sunday will never be the same for girls, no matter your age.