The racy teen import “Skins” returned to BBC America this month with last season’s young cast replaced almost entirely by a new batch of schoolboys and girls.
Teenagers playing teenagers, moving through high school in real time — what a bold concept! That would never fly on American television.
Over here, we cast our high schoolers far older. And then these very mature “kids” get locked into long-term contracts. The result is . . . ludicrous television, with juniors who look more ready to take an eye exam for reading glasses than for a driver’s license.
That has been the case from the crude black-and-white series of yesteryear (Dwayne Hickman was 29 when “The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis” went off the air) to the crude hi-def shows of today (“Gossip Girl’s” heartthrob, Chace Crawford, is 24).
Youth is fleeting. But not on TV.
Sometimes, the stars stay in high school through the entire run of the series; at times, they may accede to the inevitable and move on to their first year of college (giving new meaning to the phrase “the freshman 30”). But they always linger far too long.
Ron Palillo (Horshack) was 30 when “Welcome Back, Kotter” went off the air. Byron Scott (Warren) was 25 when “The White Shadow” ended. Dan Frischman (Arvid) hit 32 in the final season of “Head of the Class.” More recently, the star of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” Sarah Michelle Gellar, was 26 at closing time. And this season, Taylor Kitsch (Riggins) of “Friday Night Lights” will be 28, and “Smallville” star Tom Welling will be 32.
American TV proves that it’s never too late to have a happy adolescence.
Check the label.
On “Jon & Kate Plus 8,” the show blurred out the labels of some jugs of drinking water that Kate was slinging on the kitchen counter. That shocked me.
There isn’t a show on television that displays brand names as blatantly or frequently. It’s a product-placement jamboree. I keep expecting the kids to show up with sponsor decals plastered all over their pajamas, like little NASCAR drivers.
Nicely played, ladies.
There have been some striking turns for actresses in multi-episode arcs of cable series this summer.
Singer Alanis Morissette, whom I didn’t like on “Nip/Tuck,” has been a revelation on “Weeds” as a grounded ob/gyn (although I have to question why she would even entertain the idea of going out with Andy).
Maura Tierney was mired in the melodrama of “ER” for so long that I had forgotten what a lively, engaging performer she can be — until she showed up as a brazen rock ‘n’ roll chick on “Rescue Me.”
