You may have heard the hype and comparisons to Sex and the City for the double-dip recession generation because like the women have real bodies and real sex. It’s shocking that this kind of thing is allowed on TV isn’t it?
The new hit US sitcom Girls may not depict the boomeranging masses but its darn close, maybe it would be more accurate to call them (us) the ‘fuck it’ generation. There has been a stream of house sharing shows popping up, brimming with struggling, unemployed and kooky misfits generally having awkward sexual encounters. Though, no one is doing it better in America at the moment.
The story begins with our lacklustre lead Hannah Horvath (Lena Dunham) getting cut off by her parents at age 22. She was being supported by the parental units through a dead-end unpaid internship which, let’s face it, is this young decade’s customer service position.
Oddly, the awkward sex may endear you as Hannah struggles to peel off some woollen tights while remaining face-down on the sofa like her “boyfriend” (read fuck buddy) has told her to. Well it would if you’re charmed by some artless fumbling and the embarrassing reality of being a submissive 50 Shades of Shite reader.
Real-girl Hannah is actually played by the Girls writer Lena Dunham, giving you a whole new appreciation for the script. Though, she’s not the only modern woman in this show as she lives with the preened and tightly wound Marnie (Allison Williams). Lena spoke of the pair saying, “I consider Hannah and Marnie’s relationship to be the great romance of the show, in a certain way.” The veritable odd couple gossip, bitch and argue over who’s more selfish and in TV land that’s always a tough title to steal.
Marnie, the ‘uptight’ one, starts off caught in a relationship with a too-nice boring boyfriend who she’s reluctant to leave for fear of the unknown messiness found in 20s singledom. Unlike the go-to comparison of Charlotte from Sex and the City however her most notable scene to date sees her relieving tension in an art gallery bathroom after a sexually charged encounter. You don’t get THAT in the glamorised depiction of old. In their heyday they just do the dignified thing and go home to their strategically hidden rampant rabbits.
The other girl’s apartment sees a British siren, Jessa (Jemima Kirke) return bold and worldly from travelling to live with her sweetly naïve cousin Shoshanna (Zosia Mamet) who’s in absolute awe of her. The contrast between the two is brilliant and you’ll be particularly pleased to see (if your anything like me) a British woman subverting the stuck up stereotype as she’s rogered from behind out a window.
As the series progresses more misguided males are introduced to the equation including the Irish actor Chris O’Dowd as a suited and booted love interest. Since he has made the leap across the Atlantic that’s a stamp of approval you can take to the bank. Was that too many mixed metaphors? I should leave it there so you can rush off and devour the first series in all its plump juiciness.