The Nightmare Commences

cafe

Season 1, Episode 1

A school bell rings as an illustrated high school morphs into a real high school while the greatest theme music ever composed on a toy Casio keyboard assaults your ears.  A wide shot of the school hallway where Matt (credited in the opening as “Matt”), Ashley (“Ashley”) and Jake (“Jake”) pass a basketball around.  Then we find ourselves in Brooke’s bedroom where Theresa (“Theresa”) picks up the phone, then hands it to Kelly (“Kelly”) who proceeds to hand it off to Brooke (“Brooke”).  Finally, we’re in Dylan’s garage, introduced by turn to Billy (“Billy”), Dylan (“Dylan”), and Courtney (“Courtney”).  An interior shot of the Avalon and we’re off to the races.  As you can see, aside from the exclusion of Cindy and Olaf from the opening montage, it basically accomplishes in aboot 20 seconds what it took me 28 paragraphs to do in my last post.

These episodes all had titles, incidentally, but aside from the previously mentioned “The Dislocated Swede”, I’m not going to bother finding oot what they all were.  And no, they are not indicated anywhere on the DVR set that I recently scored which is of slightly higher quality than a collection of cell phone videos of a TV screen.

First we meet Brooke and Kelly who enter through the perplexing door that may or may not be the main entrance of the school.  On the one hand, there is an exit sign above the door, visible from the inside, but if you look through the narrow window panes, you can see that there’s something else going on back there and it can’t be the direct access to the school from ootside.  If my first day of school at this den of torture had been over a decade ago, I’d probably still be standing ootside trying to figure oot how the fuck to get in.  Anyway, Brooke and Kelly waste no time launching into their mean girl schtick and Kelly tells Brooke that she saw Courtney sitting ootside on the steps “looking totally tragic”.  Of course, they must find oot why ASAP.  Then they continue to fill in some backstory by mercilessly trashing Ashley for being, well, Ashley, and debating Matt’s hotness.  This is the cue for Matt to appear from the mysterious stairwell (which is across from the soda machine, not next to it as I indicated previously…this is important!).  In the early episodes, Matt is almost always wearing his Hillside letterman jacket, which is a small mercy as it temporarily shields us from his abominable wardrobe composed entirely of clashing-colored polo shirts.  Matt asks them if they’ve seen Ashley, then beats a hasty retreat, leaving Kelly to gush aboot how hot he is through her cumbersome but somehow aesthetically appealing braces.  A few pointed eye rolls later and we see Matt approaching a table in the student lounge (?) occupied by a couple of jocks and Jake.  Jake is no jock.  I think the writers hadn’t figured oot what to do with him yet because his attitude is relaxed and even slightly antagonistic as he gushes on and on aboot what a fabulous basketball player his shitty best friend is.  Jake is so obviously warm for Matt’s form, but in a show that tackled issues like alcoholism, divorce and terminal disease, homosexuality was still a bridge too far.  So let’s assume it was intentionally implied.  One of the unnamed jocks hails Matt for scoring “27 points…in the last 5 minutes” in Friday’s game.  I have to assume that the opposing team must all have come down with explosive diarrhea at the 5 minute warning, since it would be literally impossible to score 27 points in 5 minutes even if you were playing against a squad of paraplegics.  This scene is so painful to watch and it’s also the only time that Ashley’s entrance elicits a sigh of relief.  Ashley even somehow manages to walk in a whisper.  She whisper-walks to Matt’s side and whispers “hi, matt”, and Matt gives her a tiny peck on the cheek.  Got that?  A tiny, completely platonic peck on the cheek.  Jake reacts: “WOAH-HO!  STAND BACK!!  WE’LL GET BLINDED BY THE SPARKS OF PASSION!”  I shit you not.  Ashley and Matt mutter a few platitudes to each other that make it seem as if they’re meeting for the first time while Brooke and Kelly, obscured behind a fake potted bush of some kind, sneer at the nauseating spectacle (“If those two don’t cut it oot, I’m gonna gag!”)

As Ashley walks away from the table of jocks, Brooke and Kelly call her over to mock-praise her ootfit.  Ashley is wearing a pink denim jacket over a purple shirt and pink denim jeans.  I won’t have to describe what she’s wearing for the rest of this season, since it’s always a pink denim jacket over a purple shirt and pink denim jeans.  The only variation to her look is that the tougher life gets for poor Ashley, the more her pink denim jacket slides precipitously off her shoulders.

The scene changes and we see Courtney for the first time, wandering around the school wearing what I can only assume is her dead grandmother’s sofa.  Ashley enters from behind and says hi.  Courtney doesn’t return the pleasantry and asks if Ashley’s seen Billy.  Ashley sheepishly asks, “Your brother?” to which Courtney replies, “No, Billy Idol.  Who’d you think?”  BFFs warm the heart, don’t they?  Courtney’s facial features ooze disdain for her bestie – and this is the first time we’re ever shown an interaction between these two.  Courtney says a few more unnecessarily sarcastic things and bolts, setting up the first of countless close-up shots of Ashley’s face trying to process the fact that life just once again took a jackhammer to her fragile little soul.  These poignant and wonderful moments are the reason film was invented.

A completely superfluous dialogue between Brooke and Matt follows.  This whole scene is irrelevant, but there are a few key things to point oot.  Matt is eating a bag of microwave popcorn at one of the lounge tables.  Brooke is carrying what looks like a cafeteria tray with an apple on it.  Brooke flirts for a bit, then walks away.  Jake appears, seemingly from thin air, and asks for the first time the question that is pretty much the backbone of the show: “Did I just miss something here?”  No, Jake.  No, you didn’t, because you were fucking eavesdropping the whole time, just like everyone who inhabits the Ninth Circle of Hell, a/k/a Hillside.  But the important thing here is Brooke’s cafeteria tray.  Never again do we see any sign of an actual cafeteria or lunchroom because everyone brings a bag lunch and eats in the lounge, even though the lounge is never occupied by more than 4 people at a time.

Matt and Jake exchange a few sweet nothings and on their way to the gym, they run into Dylan swaggering through the halls, all leather jacket and ripped jeans.  He greets Matt with a sarcastic (I think), “Hey, Stud”, then launches into what is either an insulting diatribe or a sincere tribute to “THE Matt Walker”, replete with words like “spectacular”.  Then he leans in and pinches Matt’s polo shirt and says, “May I touch your raiment?”  Think aboot that.  Somebody actually sat down and wrote that shit into a television script.  They nearly come to blows, some ominous music plays and we have now established that Matt and Dylan are sworn enemies whose only means of expressing such animosity is through effusive and sometimes Shakespearian praise.  As Dylan exits, Matt sarcastically asks Jake if he should be shaking in his boots and Jake, of course, doubts that “a macho guy like you” needs to be worried.  Jake is mucho attuned to Matt’s macho appeal.

The next scene is supposed to be some time later, I guess, because now Dylan is at one of the lounge tables studying or pretending to study or looking at porn that he has discretely hidden in his open textbook.  Enter Deadpool carrying a skateboard.  It seems that at this stage in his career, Ryan Reynolds hadn’t yet mastered the art of dialogue withoot getting uncomfortably winded.  They talk aboot skateboardy things for a few seconds until Brooke inserts herself into the scene and – just in case we hadn’t yet gotten a handle on what Dylan’s all aboot – says, “Well, look at this!  If it isn’t Hillside’s professional rebel, looking like he just fell off the back of a motorcycle”.   A swing and a miss, Brooke.  Brooke says a few more things and saunters off, leaving Dylan to warn young Billy to “be careful” of women like Brooke because “they’re trouble”.  This is to establish at the onset the sort of hip-paternal attitude Dylan takes towards his little protégé.  But this is Deadpool – no slouch even at 13 years of age – and he’s wise to the fact that Dylan secretly has the hots for Brooke.

Now comes Courtney and Ashley’s second attempt to convince us that they’re actually friends who don’t secretly desire to disembowel each other.  It’s slightly more successful than the first attempt.  As Courtney’s funeral home drapes swish around her lower half, she tenders an apology for having been “a real cow” earlier that morning.  They establish that they’re still friends and then keep acting as if they’re painfully uncomfortable in each other’s company.  Finally, Courtney sits down and fills Ashley in on what’s been up her ass all day, while Billy and Dylan look on, oot of earshot.  Billy is eagerly waiting for his sister to open her brown-bagged lunch because he shook up her can of soda earlier and thinks it will be a hoot when she opens it.  Courtney tells Ashley that last night, “after supper”, her mom wanted to have a talk.  Two or three eons pass as Courtney hems and haws and basically says nothing at all, leaving Ashley to whisper-guess what might have happened.  Before Courtney finds her words (a process that always takes longer than most trips to the DMV), she opens the can of Sprite and gets sprayed all over her atrocious old lady dress.  In her frustration, Courtney decides this is a good time to inform her little brother that their parents are breaking up.  We get a dramatic close-up of Courtney’s tortured face as Ashley whispers, “courtney” over dramatic scene-change music.  I don’t think Jean Paul Sartre could have conceived of a more horrifying version of Hell than this fucking school.

Our first exterior shot of The Avalon, arguably the most consistently confusing thing on this show.  It’s on a city street with an el-train above and behind the street, and an ominous building that looks like the Texas Book Depository flanking the strip of businesses.  The only storefront sign that can be made oot says “Chinese Foods”, though we’re never given reason to believe that The Avalon traffics in egg foo young.  Even the traffic patterns on the street ootside the buildings make no sense.

Inside, a chubby kid is serving milkshakes to Brooke and Kelly’s table.  His apron is filthy and stained, as is the disgusting rag slung over his shoulder.  He never speaks.  You will see this guy several more times and he’s always just as unappetizingly filthy.

The seeds of a plot to destroy Ashley are germinating here, but nothing really gets off the ground.  So I’d advise instead that you pay attention to the extras in the background, at the counter, etc.  There’s a cake stand on the counter that is always empty but I guess that’s just as well because everyone at the Avalon who isn’t part of the main cast appears to be mute, so they might not even have mouths.  Often they just sit perfectly still, staring ahead.

Cut to the boys’ locker room and our first unobscured glance at one of Matt’s unholy polo shirts.  Jake is whining to Matt aboot having to do gymnastics until Matt tells him that he likes gymnastics which, of course, shuts Jake right the fuck up.  Then Jake gets to what’s really on his mind – the fact that he saw Brooke talking to Matt earlier.  Jake’s possessive jealousy is so transparent that I’m surprised Matt doesn’t constantly pirouette to ensure he’s not staring at his ass.  Jake is fully dressed but for some reason has a towel draped over his shoulder for this entire scene.  Matt mockingly advises Jake to watch oot for the pummel horse which is “trying to kill him” while grasping his shoulder in a way that must send Jake’s libido into overdrive.  Matt closes his locker, which doesn’t close.  None of the lockers in this school close, but just bounce back open according to the amount of force applied in the attempt to close them.  In other words, the budget didn’t allow for operable cheap metal lockers.  But it allowed for fucking Ryan Reynolds, didn’t it?

Courtney and Deadpool are in the hallway talking aboot their parents.  Courtney tells him that last night, after supper, Mom filled her in on the fact that she and Dad weren’t getting along so well.  We kind of know all this shit already, so the rehashing is superfluous, but there’s one thing to keep in mind for future reference.  More than once, Courtney describes this little talk with Mom as a “family meeting”, even though it involved only her and Mom (“…because I’m older, I guess” – wrong, Courtney).  But of course (and there’s no such thing as a spoiler alert for this show), not getting along eventually progresses to Dad moving oot which finally ends in divorce.  For each of these developments, a family meeting is called.  However, the divorce news was broken only to Billy in an “after supper family meeting”.  So sometimes, these psychopathic parents tell one child major bad news and sometimes they tell the other, but never both.  I guess they think breaking “tragic” news to a sibling puts hair on yer chest.  We never meet their parents (or ANY adults, for that matter, for the entire 65 episode run) but one thing is for certain: Canada’s version of DYFS needs to pay a visit to Mr. and Mrs. Simpson, stat.

Holy Mother of God, there are still over 9 minutes left in this episode.  What the hell did I get myself into?

As Courtney walks away from Billy, she is blitzkrieged by Brooke and Kelly who are coming down the stairs, ostensibly sympathizing but clearly delighted aboot her family troubles.  No matter how shitty Brooke is to her, Courtney clearly admires her and wishes that she was Brooke instead of Courtney, which I guess is understandable, but no less pathetic to watch.

Back at The Avalon, the disgusting chubby pig of a waiter is delivering a round of sodas to Ashley, Matt and Jake.  These three are seriously sitting at a booth, idly swirling their sodas with a straw, discussing the possible divorce of Courtney’s parents.  The melodrama is so thick you could cut it with a hockey stick, especially that which silently tiptoes its way oot of Ashley’s mouth.  Courtney enters and approaches the table and everyone, of course, falls silent.  The rest of this scene makes me want to pluck oot both of my eyes with a salad fork.  The gang extends condolences to a surprisingly upbeat Courtney and when she informs them that she’s doing okay, they refuse to accept that, especially Ashley, who clearly hates it when people are doing okay.  She even whispers, no shit, “it’s a long way from being okay”.

Back at Hillside, Billy’s sitting on the steps when Dylan descends and tenders a heartfelt “bummer” aboot the situation with his parents.  They decide to go skateboarding.  They could have just as easily inserted a commercial break right here and no one would have been the wiser.

Now we’re in the back pinball room of The Avalon and Matt is holding court at the Atila The Hun machine.  The flippers are moving and a ball is actually in play.  We will see Matt, among others, “playing” pinball at this machine many more times, but this is the first and last time that it actually seems to be operational.  Ashley’s pink denim whispers ‘round the corner like an autumn breeze in Ottawa and she asks Matt how he’s doing.  This scene takes far too long just to essentially establish that Ashley is a fucking dork that belongs to every school club there is and because of this, she and Matt don’t see each other as much as they’d like.  Matt asks her to the mall.  Ashley demurs and says she has to go home and study.  Of course.  Fucking pink denim dork.  They kiss lightly and I throw up in my mouth a little, as does Brooke who is eavesdropping with Kelly at a booth just ootside the pinball room.  Brooke sets a timeline for the destruction of their relationship: next Friday.

Next scene, we’re still at The Avalon, but it must be again as opposed to still because Jake is retrieving two sodas from the chubby pig behind the counter and bringing them to the table where he’s sitting with Courtney.  Remember when I told you to pay attention to the people at the counter in the background?  Right now, it’s the same two people wearing the same ootfits sitting on the same stools as THREE AVALON SCENES AGO.  I don’t understand the way the space-time continuum plays oot in Vancouver, I guess.  Jake and Courtney are discussing weekend plans.  Jake hasn’t heard of any “wild parties” going on, so he predicts that he’ll stay at home “watching reruns on TV”.  Notice how the writers couldn’t even think of an easy pop-culture reference to shoehorn into this chat: the best they could come up with was “reruns on TV”. This is the first time we are made aware of Jake’s fatal Courtney crush, but I think it comes too quickly on the heels of his barely concealed advances toward Matt.  Jake asks Courtney oot – to a movie or something – or at least thinks he does.  Miraculously, she seems to accept until she follows with “we’ll get a whole group of people together and have a really good time”.  DENIED, JAKE!!  This clearly isn’t what Jake had in mind and his awkwardness upon hearing it is Oscar-worthy, but short-lived.  Courtney must hear the scene-change music starting up because she suddenly looks Jake in the eye and says, “Oh, Jake.  They’re my parents.  My mom and dad.  If they break up…what am I gonna do?”  They stare at each other for a painfully long moment as the scene stubbornly refuses to end no matter what the background music indicates.

But this time, it’s not a scene change, but clips from next week’s episode, and now I understand why they dragged oot that interminable staring moment for as long as they did.  Dramatic effect, pure and simple.  The first rule of an effective teen soap, of course, is this: Always leave ‘em wanting to hang themselves from the shower rod with a towel.

Deadpool: The High School Years

billy

A couple of years ago, I began blogging and have continued to do so, on and off, as the mood or inspiration strikes.  The blog went through several incarnations over time, but the subject matter was generally of the philosophical, political and/or quantum physics-variety with occasional forays into fiction and humor.  Regarding the aforementioned weighty topics, I have plum run oot of things to say.  My points were made, sometimes many times over, and I’m far from being an influential or popular online voice.  Not to mention, I have completely lost faith in the human race as anything other than an aggressive species of dumb animal, so attempting to influence their views is pointless.  Therefore, today I will be changing things up.  Drastically.

I am currently unemployed and not exactly in a hurry to remedy that situation.  Like most idle Americans in the year 2019, I have spent many an hour online delving into trivial minutiae until I reach the level of self-made expert in, say, famous Scientologists or what a colossal douchebag the character of Zack Morris was on Saved By The Bell.  If anyone oot there needs a paper written on either of these topics, hit me up.  Guaranteed A.  But it was the latter time waster that led me (back) down an eerily familiar rabbit hole aboot which I hadn’t spared a thought since the early 90s.  YouTube is digital fentanyl.

Cutting to the chase: I rediscovered, to my sheer joy and consternation, the Nickelodeon teen soap opera entitled Fifteen.  Never heard of it, you say?  Well, you must be one of my friends from the Great White North, the birthplace of this most amazing television program, where it was known instead as Hillside.

Fifteen ran for four seasons, from 1991 to 1993.  It inhabited the same cultural space as Beverly Hills 90210 and Saved By The Bell and had no qualms about shamelessly ripping off the cheesiest aspects of both of those programs (Fifteen’s stereotypical leather jacket-wearing rebel was even named Dylan).  And by the time – wait, what did I just hear someone say?  In the back there, did you just say “Degrassi High”?  Kindly gather up your things and exit the seminar, you Philistine.  There’s room enough for more than one Canadian teen soap opera from the nineties and yet, you insist on mentioning the clearly inferior of the two and fucking up my dissertation.  That’s it…don’t let the door hit you…

Okay.  Back in 1991, a Canadian guy named John Binkley performed television alchemy.  He gathered up dozens of the worst child actors he could find, put them on a mind-bogglingly nonsensical set that vaguely resembled a high school designed by M. C. Escher, stuck scripts filled with the worst dialogue ever written into their little Canuck hands and somehow came oot with pure TV gold.

This page, at least for the next 65 posts, will be dedicated to analyzing, critiquing, exploring and dissecting each and every episode of the mighty and incomparable FIFTEEN – the most incredible TV show ever aired.  Believe it or not, this is not an original idea.  It seems the show has developed somewhat of an online cult following and though mocking its production values and ham-fisted dialogue is kind of like shooting fish in a barrel, it’s the most fun you can possibly have with a gun and a barrel and a fish.   Before embarking on my own exhaustive tribute to Fifteen, I should give some inspirational props to the following two (hysterically brilliant) strangers who beat me to the punch:

https://notmakingplans.blogspot.com/2011/01/fifteen-most-amazing-show-ever-episode.html

http://nostomanic.blogspot.com/2010/04/fifteen-is-more-than-number-its-state.html

Also, I would be remiss if I didn’t let you know that season 1 is available in its entirety on YouTube (and one or two online streaming services).  For the final 3 seasons, you’ll just have to take the word of your humble narrator who recently scored an 11-disc set of poorly made DVRs of the entire series.  This was an experience akin to finding a million dollars in unmarked bills in my mailbox.  No joke.

Following this introductory post, I will be writing an individual post for each of the 65 episodes aired.  Trust me, there is much to explore and the devil is in the details.  So I’ll wind up this post with some vital information that will be indispensable as we progress.  In other words, I’m not planning to describe each character anew every time they’re mentioned, nor will I give multiple detailed descriptions of the handful of environments they inhabit, so take notes.  First, the settings:

Season 1 had precisely four sets: the hallway/student lounge of Hillside High; the Avalon; the boys’ locker room (which also doubled as the girls’ locker room when the need arose); and Dylan’s garage.

In Seasons 3 and 4, we sometimes saw the world’s most depressing teenagers hanging oot at the mall (?), the mall café, and a few of the main characters’ basements.

Hillside High hallway/student lounge:  The design of this school makes aboot as much sense as a hydrophobic fish.  It seems that the door from which the students enter leads directly into a vestibule with a row of lockers on each side.  There is no visible foyer and we are never afforded a view of the actual entrance, other than in stock footage of the ootside of what is clearly a different school between scenes.  Emerging from this small locker-lined hallway, we come to a large open space containing a couch, two tables and a smattering of chairs.  Oh, and there’s a soda machine.  A few feet from the soda machine stand two lockers.  They stand alone.  This makes absolutely no sense, until you realize that these lockers belong to MATT and JAKE, and their privileged location allows for private locker conversation between these two main characters.  Characters frequently enter the scene from a stairwell to the right of the soda machine.  So the school has more than one floor, yet we never get a glimpse of what lies beyond the top of those stairs.  I suspect the stairs were an afterthought when Mr. Binkley realized that there wasn’t a good place for characters to lurk and eavesdrop on what was going on below.  This school is a fucking nightmare.

The Avalon:  Every teen show needs a hangoot, and this one’s a doozy.  I imagine that hanging oot with these self-pitying sad-sacks at this, the most depressing diner/coffee shop of all time, would be an experience akin to attending a wake at an all-night laundromat.  Unlike Hillside High and its hastily constructed stairwell, The Avalon is a lurker’s paradise.  And if these kids are expert at anything, it’s lurking and eavesdropping.  There are counter stools facing the mute, zombified staff and a smattering of booths.  Next to one of the two entrances (that are curiously situated just feet from each other) is a payphone.  In the rear is an antechamber with a pinball machine (Attila The Hun in season 1) and one additional booth.  From season 2 onward, there was a Rampage machine installed behind one of the booths.  A perpetually growing collection of 45 rpm records adorns the walls, along with a neon parrot.  If I had to guess what was on those records, I’d say that each and every one of them is “Go For A Soda” by Kim Mitchell.  There is much more to say aboot The Avalon, but I’ll let that happen organically as we progress through the episodes.

Locker Room(s):  A few blue lockers and a bench.  When it’s the boys’ locker room, there are fake football plays and an announcement for rugby tryoots on the blackboard in the rear.  When it’s the girls’ locker room, the blackboard disappears.  This place makes aboot as much sense as the main hallway, but it’s a good spot for Matt to unload on Jake withoot anyone else around to judge or interject.

Dylan’s Garage:  Dylan is a rocker.  He rocks and he doesn’t care what you think aboot it.  I suspect he has a very disturbingly unnatural relationship with his guitar, which he carries around like Linus with his blanket.  As a rocker, it wouldn’t do for Dylan to live under the same roof as his parents, oh hell, no.  The exterior shot of Dylan’s “place” is like Fred Sanford meets Mad Max.  It’s a collection of ramshackle buildings, all of which look to be garages, sitting in the midst of a literal junkyard.  One of these garages is where Dylan…lives?  People like to stop by unannounced to Dylan’s junkyard, a situation that Dylan always seems to meet with annoyed confusion.  The garage is “decorated” with road signs, license plates, power tools and sundry garage-type items.  A lot of shit will go down in this garage, my friends, so brace yourselves.

Since the other locations don’t appear until later seasons, I’ll leave it at that with the sets and settings for now.  The mall/café prominently featured in seasons 3 and 4 might need a post of its own.  On to the cast!

Some of the characters’ last names are known, others are not.  If I know them, I will indicate them here, otherwise, I’ll just use the first names.  The beauty of writing a blog that has nothing to do with philosophy or politics or science is that no one will care if I’m meticulously accurate, so any research I do for this series of posts will be minimal.  So many characters came and went in this show – and the 26-episode mess that was season 4 was so busy with unnecessary and flat-oot infuriating cast additions that I think for now, I will just go through the main characters from Season 1.  I’ll introduce the others later on, as they appear.

Matt Walker:  Played by Todd Talbot, currently a real estate agent and co-host of “Love It Or List It: Vancouver”.  Matt is the school basketball star, boyfriend of Ashley, and a drunk.  Prior to a season 3 rehab stint, Matt’s general demeanor towards everyone (including his girlfriend and his best friend) shows that he has the shortest fuse imaginable and he REALLY doesn’t like being hassled.  In other words, he’s a prick.  Until season 4, that is, at which time he inexplicably transforms into The Saint of Hillside High.

Ashley Frasier:  Played by Laura Harris, who later went on to star in The Faculty, 24, and Dead Like Me.  Matt’s eternally put-upon girlfriend, dedicated student and all around “good girl”.  Ashley never speaks above a whisper but the melodrama communicated by her perpetual susurrus will make you want to rip your face off.  Or hers.  I fucking hate this girl so much that I think I might be in love with her.  I’m pretty sure that’s what Matt thinks of her, too.

Courtney Simpson:  This frumpy asshole might be the worst-dressed character in the history of television.  She schmutzes around the school in floor-length floral-patterned Colonial-era outfits complaining about how unappealing she is to guys – even (especially) when she’s in the company of a guy who clearly has a major crush on her.  Ostensibly, she is Ashley’s best friend, though you’d never know it from their interactions.  Courtney is awkward and self-absorbed – a terrible combination, for sure.  Yet everyone seems to inexplicably love this anachronistic twat.

Deadpool Billy Simpson:  Courtney’s younger brother and Dylan fan-boy.  Later, he becomes a bully and later still, a player.  Now let’s go even a little later…2 Guys, A Girl & A Pizza Place?  People Magazine’s three-time Sexiest Man Alive?  DEADPOOL?!?  If you hadn’t already guessed from the title of this post, THIS IS MOTHERFUCKING RYAN REYNOLDS, Y’ALL.  That’s right.  You can run, Ryan, but you can’t hide from your past.  I’m just doing my part to ensure that you never forget.

Brooke Morgan:  Played by Robyn Ross, who seems to be the only former cast member willing to admit publicly that she was a major part of this show.  Brooke is the school bitch, and what a wondrous bitch she is.  She and her partner-in-crime Kelly (season 1) positively live to destroy other peoples’ lives, particularly Ashely’s.  Brooke is a rich, style-conscious, vain purveyor of malicious gossip and devious schemes, and she effortlessly accomplishes all of this without the aid of future technology like cell phones or social media.  She likes to make guys fall for her so that she can reject them.  She used to go oot with Matt, apparently, and this might have something to do with her oot-sized hatred for Ashley, although I never dated Matt and I, too, have an oot-sized hatred for Ashley, so who knows.

Kelly:  Played by Enuka Okuma, currently the star of Rookie Blue, apparently.  Kelly was the best character in the entire run of this show and her one-season involvement with it was far too short.  Kelly initially seems like nothing more than a Brooke tagalong until you get to know her and start to recognize her true seething hatred for her “best friend” simmering just below the surface.  Kelly rocks.  Not literally, like Dylan, but figuratively, like Bill Nye The Science Guy.

Theresa Morgan:  Brooke’s little sister who dresses like the little douche from the Dutch Boy Paint cans if Dutch Boy had been really into Garanimals.  After season 1, she mysteriously disappears (but don’t fret – another sister appears in her place!)

Dylan Blackwell:  Played by Chris “Corky” Martin.  The Rebel.  The Rocker.  The leather jacket-clad, too-cool-for-school dreamboat with rock star aspirations and a subtle-but-sexy facial scar that looks like it was intentionally added to his face through plastic surgery.  Dylan gives no shits.  Until season 4, that is…when he dons a pink shirt, gets a job at a café, and starts giving so many shits about everything he trashed for the previous 3 seasons that I’m actually embarrassed for a fictional character.

Jake Deosdade:  Played by some kid named Ken Angel.  Jake is supposed to be Matt’s best friend, but he is clearly petrified of him – after all, you never know when Matt’s gonna start to feel hassled.  Jake is everyone’s friend, but no one’s crush.  He pines for Courtney – Courtney!! – but although she sometimes refers to him as her best friend (when Ashley’s oot of earshot), she treats him more like a pet hamster than a potential love interest.  Jake is the third most awkward character in TV history (the other two are also from this show, of course).  Incidentally, Jake is the only character on this show who “season hopped” – he was prominently featured in seasons 1 and 3, but not 2 and 4.

Cindy:  The school hippie and unhinged environmental Nazi.  She pretty much exists to chastise people for eating tuna, litter the walls of the school with trite environmental slogans on 8 ½ x 11 sheets of construction paper, and occasionally give a wrath of shit to people she barely knows for things that have nothing to do with her.  But at least she was nice to…

Olaf:  The exchange student.  Eventually, we learn he is from Finland, even though the episode through which he was introduced was titled “The Dislocated Swede”.  This obvious Canadian actor doesn’t have the slightest trace of an accent and the writers’ attempts to make him mangle the language are actually more eloquently spoken than any of the rest of the dialogue on this show.  Olaf exists so that Brooke and Matt can mock him, and so that Billy can befriend him until he eventually decides that he should un-befriend him.  Olaf disappears after season 1 and mercifully, so does Cindy.

So that’s the basics to get us started.  If you decide to stick around for the next 65 posts, I guarantee that you will become just as obsessed with this glorious shit-show as I am.  Either that, or you will swear off ever reading another Desertcurmudgeon post for the rest of your life.  It’s your call.  And in the interest of full disclosure, I should also let you know that if you decide to stick around, you will in short order find yourself utilizing the following words and phrases with alarming frequency:

“Even so…”

“Did I just miss something here?”

“Tragic!”

Either those, or:

“Fuck you, Desertcurmudgeon!  Just FUCK YOU!!”

Either way, I’ll feel like I’ve succeeded in my mission.  Enjoy.

12/26/19 Editor’s Note:  After revisiting this post for the first time since NFTA’s inception, I noticed a glaring omission: I neglected to list Brooke’s bedroom among the Season 1 sets.  What do you want, it was my first post.  Even Wade Wilson needed a little time to master his super powers.