It's All About the Characters
By Sherry Lehman
I know the recent (but old) episodes of EastEnders may be trying the patience of some viewers (on WLIW we've got "all Slaters, all the time"). But if you are a true fan of EE, and have watched from the very beginning, it's understood you've developed certain proprietary feelings.
Some are the usual trappings of fandom: You must see the show, and freak when it is not on… again! No matter how bad the show gets, and let's face it, we're going through a dry patch, and we haven't even met the Ferreiras yet–you stick with it.
The characters begin to take a place in your mental mindscape: Arthur, don't do it! Don't take the Christmas Club money! Pauline, can't you see that Willie Roper is a weasel! Dot, your Nick is trying to scam you again! Sharon, darling, the 1980s are over–tone down the make-up and short skirts!
You begin to feel like the characters are "real," at least I do. I love the juxtaposition of 'Barry/ Shaun' on Extras, and when two characters discussed whether the "Mitchell brothers" were brothers in real life, too. Walking in New York City I will see a man raise his eyebrows and shrug his shoulders and I think: "That looks like Jim Branning!" (Why can't I imagine I see someone as cute as Nigel Harman?) I never pass up an opportunity to talk about the show to anyone, strangers on the bus, tourists; or to look for magazines about it when in a foreign land, or to attend any of the events in NYC to meet the cast.
Sometimes I even take such liberties at work! At my job in a financial agency, we often get calls from the public, asking for our reports or press releases, and the other day I got a call in the late afternoon from a young man, clearly from London, maybe even Islington.
He really needed a certain report and was very nice, and knowing that the offices in Britain were already closed, he decided to call the "home office." I could not resist throwing in some acknowledgement that I can "speak British." So I said, "Oh, I see everyone else is already down the pub and you're stuck at work."
He larfed, so I said I would send him the report. But I just couldn't resist: "You are certainly welcome, but… only if you tell me how Pauline dies on EastEnders, then we'll be even." And do you know, dear readers, he did! With none of that "You Americans really watch that tripe?" In fact, no unkind remarks at all!
'Eres what he e-mailed me when he got the report [spoiler warning]: "My pleasure. Well, if I'm not spoiling things too much, Sonia gives her a 'backhander', she falls and hits her head on a fruit bowl, she gets up, appears to be alright, but all is not well, and a little while later she collapses in the Square and exits for the last time, exit stage left: RIP Pauline!"
I got such a kick out of that! He didn't seem at all surprised that I watched, nor did he make excuses like "Oh, the wife watches it; I don't."
Hmm, if only all nations could be so cooperative with each other—we'd be a damn sight bloody better off! Maybe watching EE should be made compulsory worldwide, translated into Farsi, Yiddish, Spanish...!
Now, about that tourist who called it "tripe"… and who looked at me like I was an inferior form of life—one would think he wouldn't stoop to watch soaps at all.
Yeah, right: He looked down his nose at me and growled, "We only watch Corrie!"
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