In episode nine of Lena Dunham’s Girls — Leave Me Alone — best friends Marnie and Hannah get into a toothbrush-whipping, insult-hurling, door-slamming fight. Yawn. That spat was in the offing since episode one, when Marnie got to see Hannah’s boobs but wouldn’t reciprocate the kindness. Clearly, the friendship was one sided, and based on Hannah giving and Marnie taking. Well, until Marnie gave unemployed Hannah a roof over her head and food to eat, all in return for the displeasure of hearing Adam molest Hannah through the paper thin walls. How did Marnie cope with the smell? Anyway, the real question is, when the hair pulling, cat scratching, boot stomping part of the fight begins — one can only hope, in episode 10 — who will win? Here’s how I think it will go.
Lena Dunham plays Hannah on HBO’s Girls
Hannah: 24-years-old, short, stocky and unemployed. She lives on a self-destructive mix of opium tea, cupcakes and misery (also known as Adam), and what she lacks in stamina — she once collapsed in the middle of the street during a light jog — she makes up for in complete and utter shamelessness (would she have really slept with her old, pervey boss?).
Even though we’re only six episodes in, there have been some noticeable trends on Lena Dunham’s Girls — gross guys, cupcakes, more gross guys. But on the latest episode — The Return — there was evidence of the most alarming trend by far: surprising someone with a little butt play. Here’s what I mean:
Hannah travels home to Lansing, Michigan to celebrate her parents’ wedding anniversary. But instead of spending time with her family, she meets a young man with farm boy good looks and wavy blond hair — Eric — who is a huge improvement from her previous boyfriend Adam, the jobless, brainless, shirtless wonder.
I’m not entirely sure if anything significant happened on the most recent episode of Lena Dunham’s Girls, titled All Adventurous Women Do. Hannah ate a cupcake in the bathroom. Marnie had sex with herself at a party. Shoshanna didn’t have sex with anyone. The biggest plot development was Adam Sackler possibly giving Hannah HPV, but considering his head-to-toe grossness, is that really so shocking? Hannah and company did say a whole bunch of random stuff, though. And I guess that’s significant. Or at least funny. Here’s a collection of the highlights, and to make the dialogue slightly less random, a translation.
Marnie to Charlie: “You look scary to me, like Mickey Mouse without the ears.”
Translation: Before you shaved your head, you used to look like a too-cute children’s cartoon that I didn’t want to have sex with. Now that you’ve shaven your head, you look like a deformed children’s cartoon that I don’t want to have sex with.
I was really excited for HBO’s new comedy Veep, starring Julia Louis-Dreyfus. Like any good satire, I hoped it would shine a slightly harsh but terribly amusing light on its subject matter — in this case the fraught American political system, and specifically the neutered, ineffectual office of the Vice President. Watching it, though, I was left wanting: for a solid story line, for somewhat believable characters, for a reason to tune in again.
In the first episode of HBO’s much-hyped new dramedy, Girls, the central character, Hannah Horvath, quips “it costs a lot of money to look this cheap.” The line is borrowed from Dolly Parton, but instead of too much makeup and rhinestone-studded clothing, Horvath (played by the show’s creator Lena Dunham) and her friends wear disheveled vintage rags (from the best stores) and carefully blend a Hippie nomad/world-weary artist/spoiled preppy aesthetic (think drape-y blouses, fedoras and broad-shouldered overcoats). They live in bourgeois-bohemian squalor in the hipster-packed neighbourhood of Greenpoint, Brooklyn. Horvath shares an apartment with her roomate Marnie Michaels, and their place suits their clothes: slightly rusty chairs around a Saarinen tulip table; a bathroom decked in trendy white subway tiles with a gaudy floral shower curtain. Horvath’s boyfriend, Adam Sackler (whose last name, fittingly, is an obvious anagram for slacker), is a carpenter-actor-louse whose apartment is even more elegantly disheveled: a tarnished mirror, an typewriter, scraps of his carpenting wood, a plush but ratty settee.