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Angst and anger. Fears and frustrations. Sex and, well, sex. Drugs and, oooh, is that vodka left over from the party we had last week? WHOO!
Welcome back to American High, people.
For those of you not in the know, American High originally ran on the Fox Network last summer. For. Four. Episodes. Bastards. Swooping in like Florence Nightingale on three hits of acid, PBS picked up the show and is now, as we speak, running with it.
We pick up where we left off. You know, following desperate and scared high-school students around a tony North Shore educational establishment while they try to figure out their futures (or lack thereof); watching them make out in basements and bedrooms and contemplate having sex but then remembering that there are, like, TEN CAMERAS on them; witnessing horrific and completely uncalled-for parental behavior that has, on occasion, forced me to pick up the Yellow Pages and let my fingers do the walking right over to the Child Welfare Department and drop a dime on one or two morons...you know, fun stuff like that.
And now, without further delay, I bring you American High...
We come upon guitar-strummin' Kaytee, doing her thang in the hallway again, with the googly-eyed Scott gazing at her dreamily. In a voice-over, Kaytee says, "Everyone's all, 'Oh, Kaytee, you're going to be famous,' 'cuz I write a lot of songs." She hits some power chords on her acoustic, and Scott dramatically places his hand over his heart and falls over to the side as if to say, "Kaytee...your music-lovin' ways pluck my heart-strings...please...please...allow me to lick your sternum." Dude. Get a ROOM. And then get some Astroglide and a Penthouse and STOP LOOKING AT HER LIKE THAT, MAN! It is OOKING ME OUT.
Thank God we move on to meet Pablo, a Dorothy-Hamill-bowl-cut-sporting young man who, for the entire summer, had difficulty finding out what "home" was. Hey. Pablo. It's that place where someone else pays your bills and does your laundry and makes sure you eat something other than Sugar Smacks for every meal. Then Pablo's hugging some smaller, chubbier version of him and saying how the only reason he ever came home was to tuck in his little sister. That's sweet and sad and all, but I'm too busy wondering whether he's trying to look like her or vice versa. Whatever, because all of a sudden, Kaytee's burgeoning breasts are being attacked by some invisible jacketed creature and --
Um. Hello? A damn Coke commercial? Before I can tell what someone's doing to Kaytee's burgeoning breasts? That hardly seems fair. And what the hell is PBS doing with commercials anyway? Even if they are relatively tasteful and nicely executed -- I thought being a PUBLIC BROADCASTING station meant they didn't HAVE to have commercials. Whatever. I'm going to get more ice for my drink...
“ How sad is that? I almost don't have the heart to type it. She has to delineate the difference between eleven o'clock TODAY and eleven o'clock TOMORROW? What, is she insane? ”
When we return from commercial, we're greeted by those familiar white-on-black words, and I think it's Pablo who's giving us a little VO action as he tells someone that he doesn't have any money for some show he's going to see that night, and then some other voice (male? female? Annie Lennox during her "Sweet Dreams Are Made of This" phase?) says something about turning tricks on the street, and then the screen fades up and Pablo's sitting on the trunk of some car with a girl that gives new meaning to the term "grrrrrl" and who apparently picked up where Tank Girl left off. They're chatting, and you'd think they were continuing on from the aforementioned VO conversation, but they're not, because Pablo says, "You know I'm gonna be grounded forever and ever and ever and ever and ever --" and that has nothing at all to do with the "tricks" conversation we were just privy to, unless, you know, he might be grounded for turning tricks, but I think it might be more likely that, you know, he might GO TO JAIL. "Oh, whadda you care?" says Lori Petty, Jr. "Like you ever listen to your mother?"
, we see Pablo clomping up the steps of a small clapboard house that we can only assume is his "home" (whatever that means, right, Pablo?). P's mom bemusedly chews him out about borrowing her car three hours ago, even though he said it would be an hour. "No, it was not three hours ago," Pablo argues softly. His mom just smiles at him and says, "Eh, you left before three?" Pablo, realizing that it's after six p.m. and that, since he's not Superman, he is unfortunately incapable of reversing the earth's axis, thereby turning back time and getting his ass out of a sling, quietly agrees with his mother: "Okay, it was three hours ago." Pablo's mom is not half as pissed off as I'd be if my slacker son had borrowed my damn car and returned it three hours late. But then, as Hank4 has observed, I should really never have children.
Pablo then tells his mother that he has to go. The hell? He just got back from having the car for two hours longer than he was even supposed to, and now he has to run off again? Where? Does he have a Future Stockbrokers of America meeting he has to attend? I don't think so. Mama Pablo wants to know when he'll be back. He appears to ponder this question. "I'll be back by, like, eleven?" "Eleven? ELEVEN! BWA HA HA HA HA! Oh, that's a good one, Pablo! That's really funny. You're not going ANYWHERE until you clean this entire house from top to bottom. And then, when you're done with that, I want you to change your sister and put her to bed. After that, I want you to SIT RIGHT HERE and finish all of your homework -- right in front of me, mister! -- and then bake me a turkey potpie. When these tasks are complete, if you're not completely SPENT, you may leave the premises. BUT NOT ONE SECOND BEFORE." Okay, so she really says, "Okay, Pablo. Eleven. Today. Not eleven tomorrow." How sad is that? I almost don't have the heart to type it. She has to delineate the difference between eleven o'clock TODAY and eleven o'clock TOMORROW? What, is she insane? Pablo quotes Casanova in a voice-over: "Casanova's last words were, 'I regret nothing.' I think the man's a liar." Oh, man, I'm gonna smack him. Hard. With a pointy stick.
Quick! Fast forward through the edgy credit sequence! HURRY!
Then we're flipping quickly through various kids (including Puck Lite and Allie) talking about how they love their friends, but sometimes their friends annoy them and how they sometimes need more and blah dee blah dee blah...Kaytee comes onscreen and says, "A lot of people don't like me." I feel you, girl. Kaytee then makes an ugly face and wiggles her hands and says in a silly voice, "I can't understand why." I feel you times two, girl. 'Cuz I thought a lot of people didn't like me in high school, and the only way I could deal with it was by making fun of myself and throwing myself into plays and writing. Damn. I hate it when I identify with these kids...Brad then comes on and spouts some Brad-isms, followed by a girl I've never seen before talking about how her friends are getting really old and she's tired of them.
And then we're on to Pablo's very first complete segment. He's in the drop-in center, talking to some woman with a circa-Camelot knavish haircut going on. She's concerned that, last year, Pablo was involved with drugs. P-man's all, "The way I got mixed up in that...it's, like, strange, really. A favor of a favor of a friend..." Um. What? How's that? Like, "Dude. Do me a favor. Take this bag of pot and, you know, smoke it." How is doing drugs a "favor" to anyone? (I mean, of course, besides yourself -- drugs, especially over-the-counter cold medications, rock. And don't send me any emails berating me for my endorsement of drugs of any kind -- I'm a thirty-two-year-old adult woman with a massive head cold right now, and I just might come over there and sneeze on you. However, the combination of Sudafed Severe Cold Formula and Robitussin PE is forcing me to remain seated for the time being. Lucky you.) Little Lord Fauntleroy goes on to say that this so-called "drug involvement" has also been mentioned this year, so she knows that it's not something that's going away. P-man agrees. LLF wants to know if this is something Pablo's going to work on. Yeah. He's going to work on it, all right. He's going to go right out and work on that bong he made out of an empty can of Jolt. Pablo says, "Everyone needs to work on...everything...and moderation is Bacchus' first rule." Yeah. I'm gonna smack him.
"Who am I?" Pablo asks himself on-camera. "Top ten words, straight from the head. Melodramatic. Pseudo-intellectual. Poetically inclined. Hooligan." Um. Can he count? Or did the producers just cut him off before he could finish? 'Cuz, no matter how you count 'em, that number of words still don't add up to ten. In a hallway somewhere, Lori Petty Jr. is hollering, "PABLO!!!" as P-man molests some blonde chick on the stairwell. In a voice-over, we learn that Pablo's known Petty (a.k.a. "Lisa") for about two years and that, even though on the outside she may seem hostile and harsh, once you get to know her, you learn that a lot of things affect her.
“ I've always preferred scarves to handcuffs -- not because they're softer or prettier, but because I DON'T HAVE TO EXPLAIN THEIR PRESENCE WHEN MY MOTHER COMES TO VISIT. Write this down. ”
Petty goes on to prove P-man right as she jocularly sits by and watches as P-man quits his job via cell-phone. "If it was up to Lisa," Pablo says in a VO, "all I would do, all day long, is hang out with her." Do you get health insurance with that job? What about a 401K? Pablo then says "I'm sorry" into the phone. "Why're you saying you're sorry?" Petty audibly asks. Then, while still on the phone, although whether Pablo's employer is still on the other end of the line is unknown, Pablo says, "There! We're all unemployed! We're going to be one big happy commune of unemployed people begging for change like you!" "Retard," says Petty, "you left mint alcohol in the fridge and my mother saw it!" Did I just miss something? What does mint alcohol have to do with unemployment? What the hell is she talking about? Did R.J. Cutler just go Bunim/Murray on my ass or what?
Pablo tells us in a voice-over that Petty doesn't get along with her mom, so she's been living with her grandfather, but her grandfather recently passed away. And, until some planned remodeling begins, the house is virtually empty, allowing Pablo and Petty to come and go as they please, sans parental supervision. So, basically, this is Pablo and Petty's "home" away from "home" (whatever that means, right, Pablo?). As P-man tidies and straightens up, he tells us that he and Petty each have keys to the place and they can do with it what they want, and he picks a pair of handcuffs up off the floor as his voice-over states, "We just try to avoid telling each other what we do." "Do"? With what? Handcuffs? I think we can all guess what you do with handcuffs, you dirty little monster. Naughty. Naughty!
Wow. I just slipped off into a land that should never, EVER, be visited again.
Pablo says that the one rule of the house is to leave things as you found them. "And even a small detail like a ring...or handcuffs on the floor...it's little things like that we have to remember in order to keep this place ours." Really? You mean Petty's mom might visit the house one day and notice something as eensy-weensy as HANDCUFFS ON THE FLOOR OF HER DEAD FATHER'S HOUSE? Handcuffs aren't "little," you doofus. Let me just put it this way: I've always preferred scarves to handcuffs -- not because they're softer or prettier, but because I DON'T HAVE TO EXPLAIN THEIR PRESENCE WHEN MY MOTHER COMES TO VISIT. Write this down.
As Pablo rambles up the sidewalk with a hiphugger-clad girl in tow, his VO says that he and Petty basically use the house to get away from their troubled family lives, and that it's "Kubla Khan's 'Dome of Paradise and Pleasure.'" Do you think I could get that printed on a t-shirt? Standing just inside the doorway of the house, the girl smirkingly looks on as Pablo opens up what I take to be a bedroom door; the front door of the house closes, forever shielding us from the fearful sight of Pablo attempting to have carnal knowledge of hiphugger girl.
“ You deserve to be with someone who A) appreciates you for how fantastic and unusual you are and B) doesn't look like a retard in a baseball cap. ”
Ring ring.
Kaytee: Desperately Sad Coffeehouse-Star Wannabe Central, Kaytee speaking, can I help you?
Regina: Hey, Kaytee, Regina here.
Kaytee: Oh, hi. What's up? Oh, by the way, I'm playing at the Starbucks on the corner of State and Division Thursday --
Regina: Uh, that's great, Kaytee, just great. Um. What the hell are you doing?
Kaytee: Whaddya mean? I'm just sitting here, strumming my guitar, watching Teddy mess around with the computer. Isn't he the cutest?
Regina: No. But that's not why I'm calling. What the hell are you doing slobbering all over a dumbass like that?
Kaytee: A dumbass? You mean Teddy? He's not a dumbass, he's just closed-off and confused. But I can open him up. I can be really good for --
Regina: Stop. Stop right there. Dammit, it's worse than I thought. Kaytee? Do you have a pen or pencil and a pad of paper?
Kaytee: Of course. I'm an aspiring starving artist with poetry for blood -- I am virtually SURROUNDED by pens and paper.
Regina: Well, I'm going to say something and I'm only going to say it once, so pay attention and write this down.
Kaytee: Ready.
Regina: YOU CANNOT CHANGE HIM.
Kaytee: Huh?
Regina: I realize that this comes as quite a shock to you, being all of seventeen, and, seeing as I'm talking to the Kaytee who filmed this show about two years ago and you're really nineteen or twenty now, you've probably already learned this, but YOU CANNOT CHANGE MEN. YOU CANNOT FIX THEM. THEY ARE NOT AFTER-SCHOOL PROJECTS. IF THEY ARE ASSHOLES AT SEVENTEEN, ASSHOLES THEY WILL ALWAYS BE. Dude. You are not a repairman. You are a woman. And you deserve to be with someone who A) appreciates you for how fantastic and unusual you are and B) doesn't look like a retard in a baseball cap.
Kaytee: Wow. Thanks, Regina.
Regina: My pleasure.
Kaytee: I'll probably still pine after him for a while, but I do see your point. Thanks a lot. Oh, and did I mention that I'm playing at the Starbucks on the corner --
Regina: Bye, Kaytee.
Kaytee: -- I start at eight and there's gonna be free coffee for the first half hour --
Regina: Bye.
Kaytee: And Scott'll be there and Teddy and --