Happily Hippie-American

Media analysis: Take five! 

Happily Hippie’s Hall of Shame Award 

"Oh, the shark, babe, has such teeth, dear, and it shows them pearly white." 

                                                                                                                                                                 —“Mack the Knife”

“So, what’ve you guys got for me? Let’s hear your pitch for this new show, and it better be good!” JB thundered as he thumped his massive mahogany desk. 

“Well,” said an anxious BJ, “it’s going to star James Woods as Se­bastian Stark, a single parent who used to be an unscrupulous high-end defense lawyer who successfully defended a rich guy on spouse-abuse charges, but then three days later, he killed his wife.” 

“Stark?” 

“No, the rich guy . . . . Okay, so now Stark’s decided to change sides and become a prosecutor in the LA District Attorney’s Office.” 

“I see . . . a bad boy trying to go good . . . . I like it: it’s alluring, psy­chologically complex. Okay, so tell me: this James Woods, is he photo­genic? Can he carry this show?” 

“Is he photogenic?! Can he carry this show?! JB, the camera loves him! He has boyish good looks, and the man has cha-ris-ma! We feel he’s perfect to play a character who’s vain, immature, arrogant and smarmy, but who in the end, always gets the bad guy.”

“Well, I’m looking at your promo photos, and I must say, the man looks great in a suit—is that an Armani?” 

“Yes, sir. And look at that shot of him in those shades.” 

“Yeah . . . very cool . . . . Okay, so what else have you got? We’ll need more than Mr. Charismatic Bad Boy Gone Good to hold our rating share.” 

“Jeri Ryan, sir. You remember . . . Star Trek’s Seven of Nine—you know . . . in that tight outfit.” 

“Yes, heh, heh, . . . . I do remember that,” JB leered, a faraway look in his eyes. 

“Well, she plays Stark’s boss, Jessica Devlin, who because of her deep desire to do right and get the bad guys left a six-figure job in the private sector to work as the District Attorney of Los Angeles, where she’s been for 14 years. . . . . Of course, she still makes six figures.”

“Of course. . . . Can Ryan play this part?” 

“Can she?! Remember Boston Public where she was a school teach­er who wore tight white sweaters over cross-your-heart bras, and you could see her nipples?! And she has this impossibly cool, ulti­mate-in-crowd air about her. Like a Fox newscaster only sexier!” 

“Yes,” interjected CD, “and we’re sure there’ll be real chemistry be­tween Ryan and Woods—frisson, JB, frisson!” 

“Okay,” mused JB, “it sounds like a law-and-order show for mid­dle-aged Republicans who want to feel self-righteous and sexy. It could work. What do you plan to call this thing?” 

“Oh, that’s the best part, sir,” BJ promised as he and CD eyed each other smugly. . . . “Shark! It’s aggressive and deadly and sleek and phallic, and . . . it rhymes with his last name, Stark!” 

“Willikers!” gasped JB in astonishment. “Shark! . . . Th-that’s ge­nius! Okay, boys, let’s roll with it! We’ll find a director and begin pro­duction ASAP!” 

* * * 

On January 18th of 2007, CBS’s Shark ran an episode called “Wayne’s World”—yes, as in the SNL skit and the subsequent films starring Wayne (Mike Myers) and Garth (Dana Carvey). Only this wasn’t com­edy; it was high legal drama.1 

Sebastian Stark, “Shark,” is prosecuting a serial killer accused but somehow never convicted of, in separate incidents, murdering five women. The suspect would’ve murdered a sixth, but she ran from his house; now, she’s afraid to testify against him because the creep is act­ing as his own attorney and planning to cross examine her. Can you imagine this poor traumatized woman having to be questioned—to be “re-victimized”—by this monster! 

The improbable story unfolds: The defendant is handsome, soft spoken and educated; we’re tempted to believe that such a seemingly decent fellow couldn’t do such a thing—except for one telltale clue: he has his long hair tied back in a ponytail, and he has a neatly trimmed beard. That’s right! Neat or not, he’s one of those Hippies! 

Now, as I understand it, before he murders his exclusively female victims, he reads them the details of their own, earlier molestations from their psychiatric diaries2 as a way of torturing them—sort of like he now wants to do to the victim/witness in court. The fiend! 

Since the accused is a college English professor and not a psychi­atrist or a social worker, it’s not quite clear how he got a hold of these diaries to begin with. Are they assignments for his English classes? (“Okay class, the third installment of your My Sexual Abuse Diary is due next Tuesday—five-hundred words, double spaced, no excus­es.”)3

Not to mention that if you were a misogynist serial killer, this would sort of narrow your field of victims, wouldn’t it? (“Sorry, I may be a dastardly sex criminal, but I do have my standards: I never murder a woman who doesn’t first let me read her sexual-abuse diary.”) Never mind. Don’t ask any hard questions. In the world of Wayne, anything is possible! The absurd plot is clearly intended to create a super-evil character: a “normal” serial killer would appear almost healthy by comparison. 

And watching this allegedly pro-woman show, I’m wondering, Who are these victims, anyway? Silly, flat-character females so lack­ing a basic sense of self-preservation that they would go to this guy’s house on a date? (“Yes, it’s true: several women in the neighborhood have disappeared after going there but, . . . I wonder . . . should I bring wine?”) 

And in case we hadn’t noticed the professor’s long hair, it’s also a prominent, identifying detail in the testimony of a prosecution wit­ness. It isn’t, then, just that the director has cast an actor with long hair to play the serial killer, it’s that his long-hair is written right into the script. Wayne is, incidentally, the only male in the entire show with long hair; probably, the only one with a beard.

Well, this Hippie sicko is so devious, clever and convincing that he almost gets away with it, especially when incorrigible bad boy Shark, who cut some legal corners and got caught, has to step back and let his boss, Jessica Devlin (Jeri Ryan), take over. 

Attired in a chic power suit, Devlin looks about 35, and Wikipedia tells us she’s been the LA District Attorney for 14 years (having, ap­parently, been elected at about age 21).4 Tough, contemptuous, cut­ting—Devlin bores in on the villain, until finally, unable to bear her verbal lashings for another moment, he bre-e-a-aks (!) and—in a violent outburst of misogyny—confesses to the crimes. Television at its hard-hitting best! 

Here, then, we have a heavy-handed attempt to equate long hair and a beard on a man, Hippie appearance, with the most unspeakable depravity. Well, speaking of depravity, let’s recognize malicious stereo­typing and bigotry when we see it. 

Thus, our Happily Hippie Hall of Shame Award goes to . . . (long pause as envelope is opened) . . . (microphone sounds) . . . (more mi­crophone sounds) . . . the creators of this execrable episode of Shark, “Wayne’s World”! Congratulations! For now and evermore, may you and your vile ilk live in ignominious disgrace! 

1 My comments here are based on my remembrance of the show combined with information from Wikipedia. 

2 Do sexual-abuse therapists actually encourage such “diaries”?  

3 I’m not making fun of sexual abuse; I’m making fun of this ridicu­lous television program. 

4 This, of course, after her six-figure-salary career in the private sec­tor.

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