WHY THE O.C. IS SMARTER THAN THE AVERAGE BEAR (AND TEEN SOAP)

Have you ever seen Imitation of Life? It was a 1959 Douglas Sirk melodrama starring Lana Turner, Sandra Dee and Juanita Moore. It’s a really great movie, even if some of its dramatic moments seem a bit corny by modern standards. But Sirk was the master of the ’50s melodrama, and you may be slightly more familiar with him than you think since the fantastic 2002 Todd Haynes film Far From Heaven was at the very least inspired by and adapted from another Sirk film, All That Heaven Allows. But that’s not important right now.

Imitation of Life focused on issues that weren’t really discussed in late-’50s America. The story is about an aspiring actress and single mother named Lora (Turner) struggling to get by who meets an even more unlucky black single mother named Annie (Moore) whose daughter is so fair, most people would think she’s white. Annie convinces Lora to let her work as a housekeeper and nanny, giving Lora more time to pursue her acting career. The older women become the closest of friends – like sisters – even as Lora finally does get her big break and become successful. The two young daughters also formulate a sibling relationship, but Sarah Jane, Annie’s daughter, is always very conscious of her “place,” and as she gets older, she becomes more-and-more interested in hiding the truth about her mother and background, choosing instead to ignore the truth and pass for white. At least, that’s the set-up and a bit of the plot. Since this is a ’50s melodrama, it of course has a very sad, tearjerking ending. It’s also a great movie, and if you’ve never seen it, you should absolutely consider renting it sometime soon. Especially if you’re looking for a good cry. (In fact, the DVD includes both Sirk’s version and an earlier film — both were adapted from the same novel — that’s interesting but also very different in the actual story it tells. Especially fascinating is to see how the conversation about race changed — as well as how it didn’t — over the 25 years from the first film to the second. Sirk’s later version is also much grander and more opulent than the earlier film, a characteristic that itself tells a lot about the difference between many early-’30s and late-’50s films.)

What the hell does this have to do with Fox’s great teen soap The O.C., you ask? Based on last week’s episode, a lot actually.

While the show gets tons of notice for its hipster and indie rock cred – recent episodes have featured live performances by The Killers and The Walkmen, and Death Cab for Cutie is a constant source of musical inspiration with Seth even writing his Chrismukkah anthem to one of their songs – the producers (or at least the set dresser) should get some major props for their additional attention to detail

My girlfriend and I were watching this last week’s great Chrismukkah episode over the weekend. It started with the audience knowing a lot more than most of the characters – the girl that Ryan is hot for, Lindsay, is actually the illegitimate daughter of Caleb, which also makes her Kirsten’s sister and Seth’s aunt. (Hey, I never said it wasn’t a “soap.”) Before the big revelation to everyone at the end of the episode, Ryan visits Lindsay in her bedroom. So there we are watching this episode when suddenly I see something and say, “Oh, that’s awesome!” My girlfriend asked me what, and while she didn’t think it was quite as cool as I did, here’s what I noticed.

In Lindsay’s bedroom was a poster for the film Imitation of Life. (I wouldn’t swear to it, but I’m pretty sure it’s the poster attached to this post.) I’m pretty sure there aren’t too many 16 year olds out there – even major film geeks – who would have even heard of Sirk’s film, let alone have its poster hanging on their bedroom walls. But Lindsay — a smart over-achiever who has grown-up alone with a single mother, never knowing her father – has at least a few resemblances to the film’s Sarah Jane. The racial element might not be there, but trying to pass in a society in which she feels uncomfortable – namely the rich kids of the Harbor School and Newport Beach – is something that Lindsay strives for and makes her feel uncomfortable at the same time.

I get kind of annoyed when people put down television all the time, or dismiss all shows that include any sort of prurient melodrama as “guilty pleasures.” There are plenty of shows out there that are simply enjoyable and not high art, and I’m not trying to say that The O.C. is anything more than it, in fact, is. However, for all the similarities the show has to its predecessors, namely Beverly Hills 90210, I’ve always been impressed at how creator Josh Schwartz and his staff have done all those ’90s teen dramas one better. From the very beginning, The O.C. has actually contained an attention to detail, especially with its characters, that simply has not existed in other shows. Even the stereotypical jock turned out to have another side to him that wouldn’t have appeared on The O.C.’s ancestors. No matter how silly the storylines may get at times, the characters themselves actually are always more than your standard one- or two-dimensional varieties.

In fact, The O.C. is very aware of its own image and the silliness of the stories it often tells. I can’t think of any other teen soap that has had the guts to make fun of itself or engage in as much meta-analysis as The O.C.. Last season it started when we were introduced to Summer’s favorite show, “The Valley,” a fictional teen soap that mimics The O.C. in every way. In this week’s episode, as the character interrelationships definitely started to look more and more like something out of Dynasty or Dallas, Summer managed to say what much of the home audience was thinking: “This year’s getting even weirder than last year.” But see, that’s OK, because moments like those tell the home viewer that the show is in on the joke. No matter how serious the plots themselves may appear, even the show doesn’t take itself seriously, so it’s not expecting us to either. And ultimately, it’s just a lot of fun.

You can never predict exactly what subtext or hidden allusion is included in any episode, some being for more obvious than others. I watch a lot of TV, but I often find myself watching things while also attempting to complete one or two other tasks at the same time. I won’t catch every reference, but it doesn’t take that many. For a show – any show – to throw-in something like this poster and draw such a subtle parallel between its story and a film nearly half-a-century old that most of its target demographic has never heard and won’t think twice about … well that’s one smart production, and it’s just another example of why to my mind, The O.C. is a much better show than it will probably ever get credit for.