No, apparently ten years ago today, The O.C. went off the air. I remember watching the finale by myself in my fraternity's formal room while drinking a box of blush (white zinfandel the OG rose) Franzia and crying. When Ryan flashed back to the pilot episode, I couldn't help but think of the four year journey I had been on with all of these characters. I ALMOST stayed in. But it was a Thursday and I was 20. I probably went to Kilroy's and pissed myself.
BUT BACK TO NEWPORT. There were lots of postmortems today, nostalgic strolls down memory lane;
TEN TIMES SANDY SAID THE PERFECT THING.
10 years later Kirsten is still BAE
77 reason Cohen should have picked Anna
Blair's top 10 eye rolls
5 time Ryan and Seth were SQUAD GOALS
An Ode to Sandy Cohen's eyebrows.
You know, shit like that, thanks Buzzfeed.
But all I could think of today was how much I fucking hated Oliver.
See, over the years I have routinely watched the first 13 episodes of the OC's first season, and that is for two specific reasons.
1. I typically throw on OC on Sundays that I am violently hungover...and being as the first 13 episodes are 559 minutes long, that's about the length of one of my hangover (and my Sunday)
2. The last scene of the first Christmakkuh episode (1.13) that miserable fuck Oliver Trask shows up. I will usually throw my Mao's at the wall and storm off because I can't stand the sight of his shit eating grin on my television. He single handedly ruins the rest of the season and arguably Ryan and Marissa forever (therefore arguably ruining the rest of the series)
However, unbeknownst to me there is some sort of grass roots movement that Oliver was actually a good character, that added lots of needed conflict on a soapy series about rich white kids. This is specifically a mountain that my friend Kenny Lodge will die on. People in this camp think of Oliver as a character kind of like The Joker. I suppose The Dark Knight is a less entertaining movie if it is just about a rich guy trying to steal his childhood sweetheart from a shady district attorney.
So today as a thought exercise, I will go back and give Oliver a second chance, all these years later.
Oliver Trask; from Oliver's perspective
So let's get this right out in the open. At the age of 16, Oliver was living by himself on the west coast where he had a hotel penthouse, a beach house in Malibu and a house in Palm Springs. He furthermore has zero supervision and a near endless supply of Zima. I, on the other hand had one house in Indianapolis with zero back doors to sneak out of and a locked liquor cabinet.
This guy could probably stab my little brother and I would still hang out with him.
Money aside, we know in his past Oliver had some substance abuse issues (who hasn't) and there may have been a suicide threat in there. But we don't know if it was like a REAL suicide threat or one of those "I'll kill myself if you don't let me go to this party mom" suicide threats.
So one day our boy O, (that's what his friends call him) is just sitting in outpatient rehab for a laundry list of white people problems and he sees this.
Nothing says I'm lashing out because my dad just Madoff'ed all of my homies like that expression right there.
So our boy Oliver is thinking 'She's rich, I'm rich. She's probably out of my league a bit but I HAVE THREE UNSUPERVISED SO CAL HOMES AND LEGIT MORE MONEY THAN GOD.
Marissa tells him she has a boyfriend, so he thinks to himself, fine it will be a bit of a slow play. We're 16. People date for like a week and then it's over.
"I know what I'll do, New Year's Eve is coming up. I'll throw a banger at my house, the penthouse of the St. Regis in Dana Point. That will be fun. At the very least I will ingratiate myself to the crew."
Oliver can't believe his luck when Marissa shows up solo.
"This will be easier than I thought. Marissa's mopey trash can of a boyfriend from Chino was intimidated by my wealth, we'll eat finger foods all night and then kiss at midnight.
Things seem to be going well until this happens...
But no worries, Oliver thinks to himself. I can get tickets to Rooney. And in 2003 Rooney was fucking big. I'm talking like Father John Misty big. Coachella before Beyonce cancelled big. Me and my friend Quinn spent an entire summer on his boat just listening to that Shakin' song on repeat. It was dope.
|How great was post gay dad Luke?|
So Olly hooks up a few passes to the Rooney show and things are going well. Then, you know because Oliver is basically Dan Blizerian 1.0 he decides he wants to add a little party to the atmosphere. Who wouldn't? He's just trying to impress his new friends! Tell me that Luke wouldn't get down on 30 key bumps in a rock venue's bathroom.
But of course glory boy Ryan catches the deal going down. Of course the Chino kid would have a nose for a drug deal. His parents were probably addicted to crack.
A fight breaks out, cops come, the whole thing is totally a disaster. Oliver obviously gets out of it because he has money DUH, but this is another strike against him in his pursuit fur Marissa.
I went to an indie rock show in high school and my friend Dan got too drunk to drive home, which was fine because I was sober. But what wasn't fine is I didn't know how to drive a stick. I learned to drive a manual home at 1 o clock in the morning on a Friday night in 2005, I only stalled twice. That could have been a terrible OC episode.
So now our boy is all embarrassed and shit and he thinks, 'I know, I'll take everyone to my dope pad in Palm Springs. No one can be mad at you if you take them golfing!' Luke and Ryan are seeing right through his shit at this point, so he invents a fake girlfriend! A classic move by 7th graders all across the country. Spoiler alert, your buddy that told you he fingered a girl in a hot tub 20 years ago was lying. Also there isn't a farm where big dogs can run and play. Your dog is dead.
Cut to: we are now playing PGA West and drinking Zimas life is good.
|It's all in the hips.|
This all comes to a head of course when Ryan accosts Oliver in the kitchen, 'next time you want to plan a weekend with my girlfriend, you can just tell me to stay home.'
What do you do, when the guy whose girl you are trying to steal calls you out on it?
Fake a nervous breakdown of course!!!
And wouldn't you believe it?
Marissa blames Ryan for everything!
So, and I'm only guessing here. What do you do when you have your girl's boyfriend on the ropes?
Transfer to her school of course!
Totally sane! Gotta step on that throat!
Do we think this is weird?
Nah, he's just trying to get closer to the crew! Forget all about that old restraining order talk and the fake girlfriend. Everyone has fake girlfriends in high school!
So Oliver begins going about his life at Harbor while the bromance of Luke and Ryan (underrated btw) try to destroy him.
Spoiler alert, they fail and Ryan gets suspended. Sounds like the Traskdaddy is finally going to get to make his move.
Finally, Oliver decides that he will have Marissa to his beach house and make his grand romantic gesture. TBH, he hasn't done anything THAT crazy yet. Inviting a girl to a party, to a concert, to a golf course and transferring schools are things that 16 year olds do! Right?
Let's check in on how the beach house love proclamation went!
|That escalated quickly!|
I can't keep up this charade.
I hate him.
I hate him so much.
He is a colossal piece of shit.
Honestly the biggest regret of my life is not writing Josh Schwartz fan letters begging for an on screen death.
For anyone else hoping for a bit of closure here is Leatherface from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre ripping Oliver in half.
Really wish I could have been on set that day.
Well I apologize to everyone for trying to humanize Oliver. Sure, he may have just been a hormonal teen trying to hook up with a beautiful yet damaged young woman. But at the end of the day, and at the end of my reflection, I can say with confidence that Oliver is the biggest piece of shit to ever hit television waves.
That said, The OC's first season was still near perfect and I wouldn't have changed a thing...