Following all your lovely advice, I decided to give Weeds a try, and I love it! I have zipped through two seasons already, and am eagerly waiting for the third one to download. Since each season consists of about 10-12 half-hour episodes, it’s not too difficult to watch an entire season in one day — especially if all you have to do otherwise is sit there watching some dogs wrestle.
It’s a great cast: I love Mary Louise Parker, who plays Nancy, and the rest of the group is great too. My other favorites are Kevin Nealon as Doug (Nancy’s stoner asshole neighbor/customer) and Romany Malco, who plays Conrad. Oh, Conrad! Dish me up a scoop of THAT, please!
The show is a very entertaining dark comedy (or comedy-drama, maybe, but in half-hour format) that appeals to all the subversive and greedy thoughts I have. What better way to strike it rich, tax free, than selling pot to bored suburban yuppies? The show efficiently plays on issues of race and economic class with humor and intelligence. The still below illustrates effortlessly the depiction of the white “PTA Mom” social group into which Nancy (not pictured) doesn’t quite fit — though her handbag, seen in the front chair, does.
Another fun send-up of suburban conformity is the theme song, Malvina Reynolds’ “Little Boxes” — you know, the little boxes that are all made out of ticky-tacky and all look just the same? The song plays over scenes of near-identical homes, cars, latte-drinkers, and joggers in the planned community where the show is set. The fun starts in the second season, though, where each episode features a different artist singing the theme song. Fans who, like me, enjoy trying to identify celebrity voices will surely like the game of guessing who the singer is each time. I noticed Elvis Costello, Ben Gibbard, and Jenny Lewis, although I misidentified Engelbert Humperdinck as Wayne Newton. (Close enough on that one, I say!)
Here’s the Death Cab for Cutie version, ’cause y’all know I can’t resist:
One sort of unfortunate side effect of watching so much Weeds in such a short span of time is that I have a serious hankering for some dank, sticky, hairy, sparkly, skunk-ass-smelling tea. OMG. I essentially quit smoking pot after I graduated college (with handfuls of exceptions on special occasions and vacations, etc.), but man! For a while there, getting ridiculously high and then listening to Stevie Wonder was my main extracurricular activity. Incidentally, you should try that sometime. Anyway, those days are over, so I’ll just have to live vicariously through television, so each time Kevin Nealon hits that bong, I have a little sympathy burn in my throat.