gratuitous post in 3...2...1...
"You know what, Shawn, I always thought that Topanga was the one person I could never live without.
But she’s gone and you’re here and I’m alive.
So it must be you."
I'm one of those people who always joins in things too late (remember how I saw BtVS and AtS last year and started freaking out with "omg analysis"? Yeah.); so while the world is losing it over the announcement of Girl Meets World, I just started watching Boy Meets World. I started from the fourth season onwards, because as much of a sucker as I am for kids' shows, I've realized that I can't now unironically watch a bunch of eleven-year-olds.
BUT THESE TWO OH MY GOD.
Shawn Hunter is now amongst some of my favorite characters of all times, because Rider Strong plays him like a dream. It's his acting in episodes like Family Trees that convinced me of that; his nuanced reading, and performance of drunk, heartbroken Shawn who is a massive tool to everyone and has a tendency to push his friends away whenever he's hurt is beyond gorgeous. I don't know what it is about him, but he appeals to my directorial sensibilities (...not that I particularly have any, but IF I did, see); he plays the scene exactly how I want to see it played. He's nonchalant to the point of being painful when he's feeling too much, and his 'drunk' act is so subtle, it's possible to miss it entirely the first time round, because there's only a minor sense of excess and absolutely no theatrics And the way he closes off completely into this bravado that he's obviously learnt because that's how he's learnt to handle things through the years, and then breaks down by hurting others, guh. The expressions, the manner of performance, just everything. I'm crushing hard, can you tell? /sigh
And then of course, there's Cory-and-Shawn.
Cory-and-Shawn is the most epic bromance that existed in the history of bromances (and also prior to the rabid invention and marketing of "bromances") I love that this is a show on ABC Family/Disney, and these two still have the most non-heterosexual moments and are basically the gayest bffs ever; with lines like:
Shawn: Living on the edge, babe.
Cory: I like it when you call me babe.
and how, even though Cory has practically been married to Topanga since he was two, his relationship with Shawn is the most consistent, most developed, most devastating, and yet most stable relationship on this show. I love that at Cory's wedding these two are basically just screaming at each other at the altar and have to be physically restrained from kicking and fighting each other, because they can't stand the thought that things may change between them and they can't say it out loud and basically start crying with Shawn screaming about how the have to talk about it, and Cory childishly scrunching his face and saying that he doesn't want to. I love that they have entire episodes dedicated to them being the most adorable, married couple around and that Cory's model wife is basically Shawn:
I love that they have traditionally romantic scenes and both actors play it straight. I love that if they can't meet then they basically spend their entire time planning secret rendezvous:
and that at those secret rendezvous, they spent their time planning more secret rendezvous:
and that half the characters, including Topanga and Cory's parents have, at some point, suspected they're basically in love with each other. And also that in case you didn't get the running gag, it runs through various other means as well:
and that Angela's reaction to Cory's jealousy about a Shawn/Topanga TV kiss is:
I love that when she's angry (not playful, angry) Topanga calls him Shawn's "luvah":
and, even though it's the relationship in Cory's life that she's most jealous of, she still basically lets them stand clasping each other, even while she's speaking her vows to Cory, and finally packs Shawn's bag when they're shifting to New York, because she's amazing like that. And because she, more than any other person, knows that, really, there's no Cory-without-Shawn.
and that on discovering that his wife may be pregnant, even though they're both in college and have no monetary prospects Cory totally freaks out and on his parent's sage advice about how it'll be the best feeling in the world to be a father, his reaction is:
I love that this happens with way more frequency than you'd imagine:
I love that when he's going through the most terrible period of his life and:
and that Cory has literally been the only constant in Shawn's life:
and that when either of them breaks up with Angela or Topanga, then the other makes it his life's mission to get them back together:
but mostly, because:
I think it's highly possibly that I'm the only person interested in this post since I have no idea how many of you ever watched Boy Meets World, but I'm fangirling this so hard that it couldn't not be documented on my journal. I just can't with my feelings for these two. And my horrific crush on Rider Strong. Damn him for being a Columbia English grad and writing sentences with the words 'structure' and 'narrative' in them with alarming regularity and basically ruining my life. And he also has a literary podcast with a couple of friends of his. And his answer to 'What Happened to Shawn Hunter' when asked a couple of months back was so gorgeous that I'm reproducing it completely here (seriously though, there is such a marked difference of writing between his piece and the others who also talked about their iconic teen characters in the same article/compilation)
After seven years on your television screen, Shawn Hunter moved to New York City, where he became an alcoholic. No, I’m kidding. He married the love of his life, Angela Moore. That’s not true, either, but he did become a world-famous poet. Actually, last I heard he was the East Coast representative of The Center, a fundamentalist cult.
You may have picked up on the fact that I’m making all of this up. The dark truth is… Shawn has been locked in my basement for 12 years. It’s really best for both of us. I’m able to move on (well, except when people confuse me for him), and, as a fictional character, he’s much safer down there.
Let’s be honest, more Boy Meets World would only further ruin his life. Being The Dramatic Storyline in a 22-minute comedy series takes its toll. It was never easy for him to live a sitcom existence, where poverty can be a punch line, where alcoholic parents can be funny, where no matter how much you learn-no matter how much Mr. Feeny sets you straight- you come back the next week, making the same old mistakes. And the laugh track roars.
Shawn was never meant for that world. He was too dark, too self-indulgent, too whiny. He was a downer! How many times can one character experience loss? Give a heart-wrenching monologue? Go on a soul-searching road trip? Conversely, he’d never survive another genre. Despite his bad-boy posturing, perhaps summed up best by his faux-retro, pseudo-biker look, Shawn wouldn’t have lasted minutes in a drama. He may have acted out with some hijinks, but deep down, Shawn’s pretty vanilla. He never swears. He’s never done drugs. The furthest he’s been from home is Disney World. I think he’s still a virgin. None of this would fly on Breaking Bad, Six Feet Under, or House. For all of his flaws, Shawn’s, well, safe.
He could potentially leave my basement for a cop show. I could see him heading back to Philadelphia to join the cold case squad. Or to become a hard-bitten-but-ultimately-good detective, solving grisly crimes armed with only his street sense and a leather jacket. Or maybe he could find a hot female with whom to partner-just like on Castle or Bones- and their witty banter could lighten the dark underbelly of the city they protect. The problem there? Shawn ain’t that smart. Or perceptive. He’s a C-minus student at best, which seems prohibitive to good detective work. So I think I’ll keep him downstairs for now.
I treat him well. He gets plenty of food and water. He even has a window, a small square that lets him see passing feet-and dogs, if they’re short enough. He tells me he loves that window. For him, it’s like a television, looking out at real people, with real-people problems.
He’s fascinated by how unstructured our lives are, how we drift from one moment to the next, free from the constraints of narrative, the pain of lurching endlessly from crisis to resolution. He covets your formless mood. Your un-episodic joys. The way you catch yourself off-guard. The way you wander, slowly, in and out of love. How you can go back, and revise the story of who you are, because there’s no DVD box set. The way no one wants to know your ending.
Sometimes, I stay down there with him, and we share memories of the good old days. The time he blew up the mailbox with a cherry bomb. The time he peed on the cop car.
But even our best times together are bittersweet: We both know it can’t last. Only one of us can return to the surface and live a semblance of a normal life. I make sure it’s me.
And also because he wrote poetry in college. And he wrote poetry like that; and just, WHY DO YOU EXIST, RIDER.)
My Town
There is a town that you can find
between the markets, dust and hicks.
Far from plastic needy souls
who can't believe in words
without a meaning from a book.
This town is old, a dusty red,
a railroad cross,
and star for boring tours.
Half on, half off,
my life is focused here,
here among the trees where it began.
Full of "pretty" shops - mostly antique.
Potted plants.
American class.
Full of falsely followed family
values.
Teenagers
smoke too early here.
We have no true life-heroes,
but hey, what's new in modern lives?
We persist in making
sculptures for each other,
look upon them to feel free.
The hardest answer one can
find is "where it's at":
wherever one may be.
Teenagers
drink too early here.
Stop having simple birthdays
once reaching age of 12,
unless you have cool friends...
who'll get shit-faced in your honor,
by extension -
help you run this phasing town.
Boldness is your God,
and drugs can be your priest.
We've all got dreams,
but we're all trapped-
not by the town,
that's just cliche -
but by the world
that is so damn
closely wrapped around,
and kept perfectly away.
Fear's behind the lazy,
comfort's way too much
to ever want to chance.
You're supposed to have some
problems,
if your dreams will never pay.
So screw around,
and drink a lot
and fill your lungs
with staled,
coffee shop,
under-age bought
cigarette,
night air.
Talk about this passion
for this girl you'll never have,
and plan a band for pastime,
and draw yourself a life.
Hackey-circles
make the union -
bum a ride
as public transportation.
If you want a smile -
go buy some beer...
light, and they will come.
It's late afternoon too many times
around my town.
But what if they just fell a little sooner
and can't sing a little louder?
Maybe if I hold you rather
than shaking hands again,
maybe we'll be real just for each other
and make railroad trails
look longer in the sun.
Touch me.
See,
I'm real.
Sensation is the key,
like we all know,
'round here.
But thought can bring you
that much farther
into me
than they'll admit
in my hometown.
Let's mark a line...
and make our town
OUR TOWN,
'cause when I fall
I want to know it,
and be all the while
thorough through it.
I've got my friends to catch
me everyday.
I've
made
my life to catch
me everyday.
Because we're falling
in this town.
Teenagers
fall too early here.
And finally, it's crazy that they still look pretty much exactly like they did in the seventh season, some twelve years ago and nowhere close to their early/mid thirties. What even.
For all of you, who had no idea what this was all about and whose internet I killed with all the gifs (stolen from here) here, have this flawlessness:
