What's wrong with The L Word?

I have seen more than one blog discussion about The L Word, and the most recent one I saw centered on complaints that the show's main characters are all well-off, glam lesbians--that not-so-well-off, more butch lesbians are not represented. Other discussions I have seen center more on the fact that the writers have changed the characters' personalities and that the plots do not make sense.

The Showtime soap opera, which will end its third season tomorrow night, is heavy on icing and short on cake. If you haven't seen it, here's a tiny capsule: A group of hip Los Angeles lesbians and their friends deal with interesting problems and experience a lot of drama doing it.

About representation: First, the characters are not exactly all well-off. One lived more or less on the street until she got her act together, and is now a chic hairdresser. One waits tables while she writes. The others are a social activist, an arts administrator, a nightclub owner, a deejay, a computer specialist, a wealthy arts patron, a chef, and a journalist. There was a professional tennis player, but she died a couple of episodes ago. Not all of the women are white. One is black, one is biracial, and one is Hispanic.

Among the major characters, one is heterosexual, one is bisexual, and one thought she was bisexual but now appears to be identifying as lesbian, but not really, for she has become involved with a woman-to-man transsexual who was introduced to the show this season. Oh, and there's one who thought she was straight, then had an 8 1/2-year relationship with a woman, and is now seeing men again.

I like these ambiguities because I think they represent real life more accurately than many people like to think. The shades of sexual preference displayed on The L Word comprise one of the show's greatest strengths, in my opinion. Another strength is the show's wonderful soundtrack (unfortunately, that compliment does not extend to the theme song, though, in the first season, the show made good use of the old standby "Love Was Made For You And Me"), and another is its clever use of guest stars, which have included Rosanna Arquette, Sandra Bernhard, Ossie Davis, Anne Archer, Helen Shaver, and the great Dana Delany.

The show can also be very funny. A prime example occurred this season when an episode's introductory piece showed a young version of Bette, portrayed on the show by Jennifer Beals, wearing Beals' signature gray off-the-shoulder sweatshirt from Flashdance. Unfortunately, however, this kind of attention to detail does not extend to the show's content, which is often sloppy. Right now, for instance, there is a sub-plot about a sexual harrassment suit that, in real life, could not possibly be filed because the parties involved do not qualify for consideration under the sexual harrassment laws.

The show is loaded with sex, most of it gratuitous. There are few, if any, stable characters, but that is to be expected in a soap opera. The problem with The L Word, however, is that between season two and season three, the writers made such radical changes in some of the characters, they were almost unrecognizable. Alice, who had been pretty sensible, was turned into a raving, jealous lover close to emotional collapse. Tina, who many of us never liked because she was boring, suddenly became spiteful, and Bette-and-Tina the couple, previously very intelligent, were rendered ignorant and ridiculous. Helena, the morally challenged spoiled brat, suddenly became a nice person. To make things even worse, there was a lapse of six months, apparently during which the characters took heavy drugs that made them mentally unfit.

Adding to the downward spiral, the focus was taken off of Jenny, played by the edgy and talented Mia Kirshner, who was left with little to do but react to Max, the transsexual. Some people think that the character of Max is a "tack on" role, added to the show to make it more politically correct.

As in all soap operas and much of life, the people on The L Word fall in love at the drop of a skirt, and then wonder why their relationships do not work out. There is also a rather nasty attitude toward men running through the series. Kit, played by the wonderful Pam Grier, was involved with a contemporary snake oil salesman who cheated on his wife. Jenny's fiance, Tim, at first portrayed as accepting and sensitive, turned out to be not-so-nice, even when we factor in the pain Jenny put him through. Alan Cummin, of all people, was also added to the cast this season, and he plays a reprehensible, self-absorbed gay man. Bette's and Kit's father, played by Ossie Davis, was homophobic and judgmental. There was even a man who wanted to be a lesbian.

Now Tina has a new male friend (the rumor was that he was to be played by Billy Campbell, but that, sadly, did not turn out to be true), about whom we know nothing except that he wants to have children with a woman he just met. And Kit also has a new lover, a much younger man who creeps me out, but that is just a matter of personal taste, not a pronouncement about his character.

Is The L Word unrealistic? You bet. Is it fun to watch? Sometimes. Now that the writers have killed one of the most popular characters, though, they will have to work hard to fill the void. Dana was someone you could count on to be funny, naive, and admirable. I miss her already, and her absence will change the flavor of the show.

The L Word works best when it is funny, artistic, or both. One of the most memorable episodes involved a visit by Bette, the arts administrator, to rich arts patron Peggy Peabody (a hilarious riff on Peggy Guggenheim) in her hotel room. ("I was a lesbian once," Peabody says, "in 1974." "Just one year?" Bette asks. "It was all I needed.") Peabody shows Bette a painting that causes her to faint. Another memorable episode was the recent one in which Dana died, and the camera went rhythmically back and forth between Dana's taking her last breaths and her friends making love, shopping, traveling, and doing all of the things that we do while someone is dying.

The show has been given a fourth season by Showtime, and the producers and writers have an opportunity to turn it into something more cohesive than it is now. The L Word has never seemed to know what it was, and it seemed to be trying to be everything--a drama, a political statement, an artistic project, a piece of good-looking camp. I personally lean toward good-looking camp with a twist of art, but at the very least, the characters need to be given reasonably consistent personalities, some of the sex needs to be cut, and the storylines need to be reined in. The characters themselves are interesting and were developing just fine, thank you, until this third season frenzy came along. Alas, there is no returning to the way things were--Dana and Marina are gone, and Bette and Tina are breaking up--but it is still possible to sharpen the focus of the major storylines, make the characters' motivations believable again, and give Jenny something to do.