In Defense of The O.C.

I have recently taken it upon myself, in light of my newfound obsession with any and all things television, to go back and watch as many of the most critically acclaimed and/or popular shows in recent years, as well as a few older ones that I was interested in. And since I have a particular love/hate relationship with the teen drama, I decided to watch all of The O.C., best remembered as Josh Schwartz’s first show. Is The O.C. culturally significant? No, not particularly. Is it mindless? Yes, often. Is it Mischa Barton a terrible actress? Are you kidding me? But does it deserve all the shit it got over the years? Absolutely not. A few years ago, if you had asked me if I watched The O.C., I would have given you a look of supreme disdain and disapproval. Everyone knew The O.C. was only for dumb blonde popular girls to watch. Everyone knew it sucked. And yet everyone knew what Chrismukkah was and had heard of Death Cab for Cutie. I’ll admit, there are episodes when I can’t help but revert to my old opinion of The O.C. I frequently roll my eyes, scoff, and even occasionally sarcastically exclaim “Oh, my God!” as it veers closer and closer to soap opera territory over the seasons. But I still give Josh Schwartz major props for keeping it on the air as long as it did. Spoiler alert: The O.C. is not actually a teen drama. It’s very much an adult drama that as the seasons went on devoted more and more screen time to its infinitely more interesting adult characters and their infinitely more interesting problems. The teen cast is certainly prettier than the adult cast, but far less experienced and nuanced – and it shows, so much that their scenes are sometimes almost breathtakingly bad. The O.C. had a lot of problems, yes, but you can’t deny that when it worked, it worked. When the main cast is together, dealing with each other’s problems and keeping things in the family, it’s a great show. It flows better, it’s shot better, the chemistry is better – it’s like magic. One of my favorite plot lines to date was actually one of the most melodramatic – the one with Lindsey and Caleb – but it worked because the cast was together, riffing off of each other and being contagiously likeable. And it didn’t hurt that Tate Donovan and Alan Dale were both cast members then. No one does crotchety old rich man like Alan Dale (see: Charles Widmore on LOST). But as soon as The O.C. stepped outside itself and brought in supremely boring, flat, and annoying characters like Oliver, Volchok, Theresa, and Johnny, the whole thing just drags and you can see the boredom in everyone’s faces. The good thing about these characters is that they always leave, in some increasingly implausible and stupid way, but by then the show is several hundred feet in the air, flying over a Great White. The show first jumped the shark for me, in fact, with the Oliver story-line, which was so incredibly irritating and transparent I almost stopped watching because I couldn’t take it anymore. As far as I can tell, that’s the story-line that sealed the show’s premature-death fate. The point is, the core of this show was from the beginning the Cohens, the Coopers, and the Roberts, and when they’re together, it’s great stuff. And I may be just a little bit in love with Seth Cohen.
In short, I ask that you reconsider judging someone when they say they watch(ed) The O.C. It’s not actually as bad as you remember.