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Thursday, Jan 8, 2009
Know-it-alls, murderous brothers, franks 'n' beans and your absurd finale predictions -- the most aimless, rambling ILTW ever!
Jun 1, 2004 | Whispering little nothings
Dear ILTW,
As a genuine psychologically minded psychiatrist, I am the doctor and you are a little nothing. Astonishingly, nonetheless, you are right to promote the notion of dream interpretation through emotional tone (vs. symbology). Alas, it is really impossible to make up a character's dream with much authenticity if you pile so much into it. Tony's bullets did turn to shit, 3 times a lady = 3 ladies = Mama/Melfi/Carmela (who in making the "deal for land" is inching toward an echo of Bad Mama). There's that food/breast theme, too. Melfi is -- intentionally -- a stiff because she isn't really deep. The amazing thing is, even mediocre psychotherapy is a revelation to Tony. Lastly, Adriana had to die for her gig on "Joey"!
Predictions:
"The Sopranos": Via Sack, Carmela or Meadow get whacked. Tony implodes.
"24": After Nina went screwy, the show became frantic & silly. Hawk hype.
"The West Wing": The blonde isn't Condi, she's Colin in drag ... Anti-hawk. Leo has a brain tumor that is changing his personality, increasing his paranoia like Lee Atwater.
"ER": Poor Noah Wyle was given George Clooney's shoes and cannot fill them at all. No Eros. His plot line is not only "forced & exotic" but utterly false & dead. His weepy breakdown was faintly moving. Even drug abuse couldn't give him heft. No phallus.
So, there you have it. Your thoughts are amusing -- but listen to me, the ultimate know-it-all. The horror of our times is suggesting reality TV is a chance to see people in "real" life. What could be more dehumanizing than phony challenges, instant true love, artificial danger, plastic surgery? It's time for off-Broadway theater.
Sara Hartley, M.D.
Dear Sara,
Isn't TV supposed to be dehumanizing? And what is this strange thing you call "theater"?
Anyway, your letter caught me completely off-guard, because my therapist opens up our sessions together with the exact same words. I mean it. Each time I walk into her office and sit down, the first thing she says to me, even before "How are you?" or "Can I get you some tea?" is "As a genuine psychologically minded psychiatrist, I am the doctor and you are a little nothing."
Still, I'm not making much progress on accepting that I'm a little nothing. In fact, I spend most sessions trying to prove to her that, as her paying client, I am, in fact, the boss of her. Not only that, but her advice and guidance and dime-store analyses are generally just projections of her own issues with her adopted mother, whom she saw as genetically inferior. (I did a little research on her personal life, just so I'd have a few silver bullets that would never turn to shit.) I also like to point out those times when I don't feel that she's empathically attuned to me. "I can tell you're not empathizing right now," I say. "You know that's your job, don't you? Instead, you're struggling with your own knee-jerk feelings of superiority, which mask the deep sense of worthlessness burning within you." She tut-tuts this, of course, but I've noticed that she no longer schedules appointments right after mine, and once I heard her making an emergency call to her own therapist when she thought I had already left the waiting room.
Needless to say, I was thrilled! Making my therapist feel worthless and small turns out to be the best therapy of all!
Anyway, where were we? Oh yeah. I think you're right about Leo and Noah. Nice predicting, Dr. Know-It-All! Still, what prize could one possibly offer a woman with an advanced degree who has it all and knows it all?
I can't think of one, no matter how hard I try. So ... no prize for you.
All the best!
A genuine critically minded critic
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