The XX Factor: What women really think.

Not With a Bang but a Wimpout

Margaret and Marjorie, we're framily and all, but yikes do I disagree with you about the finale of The L Word. My feeling? Thank Sappho that's over! I hate to quote a man right now, but I'm with James Wolcott: The episode "set lesbianism and the art of storytelling back about fifty years."

Coming into this final season, you'd think I would have learned not to expect basic narrative cohesion or even entertainment from The L Word, but Season 6 failed to meet even my barely there standards. It was, in short, an utter abomination.

Yes, Jennifer Beals is magnificent (the suit she wore in the cast's final strut across the screen almost made the whole nightmare worthwhile), and Laurel Holloman can act, as can the gorgeous Rachel Shelley (naturally, she was given nothing to do all year except drink and stare into the middle distance), but I feel certain I could've gotten just as much out of this season if I'd watched the whole thing with my finger on the fast-forward button.

But you know what really annoys me? The final season of The L Word failed to obey the fundamental law of Showtime. Showtime is the poor woman's premium cable channel (actually, the rich woman's, since it's truly elective—HBO is what you get if you can afford only one premium option), but it long ago came up with a winning formula: Don't worry so much about a script, just cast a bunch of attractive people with nice bodies and have them go at it on a regular basis. (I stuck with Showtime for five seasons of Soul Food, and believe me, it wasn't for the story lines.) The final eight episodes of The L Word might as well have played on network TV for all the skin we saw—it was as if they were pre-censored for their second run on Logo.

Many people have observed that network television's gay and lesbian characters never get to have sex, but I didn't imagine that their cable siblings would be similarly deprived. Thank heaven for Bette and Tina's final-episode bedroom scene. It was over in an instant, and we viewers glimpsed nary a nipple, but at least it was there, and at least they enjoyed it.