True to its soap opera origins as well as the inauspicious beginnings of the season, The L Word ends its fifth year on a trite note. In an episode strangely focused on core values and loyalty, several random events occur that have made tangential reference to real life moral dilemma.
Helena returns from her prison hottie induced sabbatical just in time to defeat the duplicitous Dawn Denbo. Kit and crew now own both The Plante and GirlBar. Hooray for queer monopolies.
Jodi takes the low road and gets back at Bette with the public humiliation of a gigantic installation showcasing their breakup. Bette’s face is literally splashed out in full color before the audience of art aficionados. Pain and life experience are part of every artist’s work, but usually it comes in metaphor. Not only was I under the impression that Jodi was supposed to be a classy gal, I also thought she was supposed to be a talented artist…
Shane searches her cheatin’ soul and comes to the conclusion that her new straight girl would do better to follow a Supreme Court internship to DC than her skinny hips to surfing beaches. She flirts brashly in front of said girl and then proceeds to wrangle her own declared best friend’s girl into a precarious as well as lascivious position atop a railing. How Nikki didn’t fall to her death upon discovery by Jenny is a mystery to me, and may have made a truly fascinating plot twist.
Alice, the moral rock, (except when she’s being transphobic of course) struggles with whether to leave Tasha. Max and his new hottie get robbed of any lines or moments of cuteness or hotness as usual. And in the most important betrayal of all, Lez Girl‘s new director Adele gives in to the demands of the movie execs and changes the ending to be “less gay.”
To call this season ender a disappointment seemed a no-brainer. But then I thought, because most of the improved portions of this latest year focused on the show’s self-deprecation and a peek behind the scenes, maybe this finale was really a coded message. Maybe the show’s writers and directors have been stifled in their artistic pursuits. Perhaps there have been more lesbian hookups behind the scenes than even the gossip rags know about. Maybe, just maybe, art imitates life…and life is certainly disappointing at times…
