I have this theory. Season 6 of Gilmore Girls came very close to meeting the fate of Season 7, beginning Tuesday, September 26 at 8pm on Global. Show creator Amy Sherman-Palladino — I refuse to give her husband Daniel equal credit; it was enough that Amy had to battle insulting rumours she was Aaron Sorkin working under an alias, and Dan didn’t create the show, he jumped on when Family Guy bit it that “final” time — was not happy with the deal she was being offered, even after a series-watermark Season 5, and though an agreement was reached, the collapse that occurred at the end of last season loomed for the year.
My theory gelled when Luke’s long-lost daughter showed up. It was such a clunky, desperate-seeming, soapy move by a show long lauded for its highbrow quirks, artful character development and densely layered relationships. I believed that, knowing the end could be nigh, Amy set out to deliberately sabotage the series and leave it in shambles for the next showrunner.
Well, done and fucking done. The Lorelai and Luke love story has gone surprisingly badly — Lauren Graham and Scott Patterson are very good actors (Graham is the very best actor on television, if you’re asking me, Emmy), and yet they can’t get past their reported real-life hatred of one another to make the characters’ long-standing mutual crush come to life in any comfortable way. And so, after a terrific marriage proposal cliffhanger in Season 5, the Palladinos set about systematically pulling the relationship apart in S6, finally blowing a huge hole in it with April the Secret Daughter. And hey, I like the kid, and I like Luke’s awkward Dad moments, but all of the stuff surrounding it, including Luke’s valid yet utterly stupid reason for keeping Lorelai away from her (Lorelai’s cooler, and thus more impressive, than him), and Sherilyn Fenn with her Lorelai dye job — NO.
And so we ended last season with a broken relationship that took forever to get to and Lorelai in the bed of the loathsome, clueless fucktard Christopher. (WHY GOD WHY?) There’s also the less dramatically compelling separation of Rory and Mr. Crispy Hair.
How are you going to paint your way out of this corner, Dave Rosenthal, writing veteran of exactly two episodes? I feel for you, man. Nobody is behind you on this. Everyone knows how you wrote that play about having sex with Heidi Klum, and that you were in a mental institution. And that a woman should be writing this show. And that when Amy doesn’t write the show you can tell by listening. So, shit. The most anybody expects is for you to drag this thing to its disappointing conclusion. Mediocrity is a high hope.
My hope is that you’ll surprise everybody, or that the network will win back the Palladinos in time to save the series. Because this show deserves so much more than an X-Files flameout or a West Wing whimper.
By the way, Gilmore nerds — if you want to be with your own kind, join us at the Oasis, 5675 Spring Garden, on Tuesday. No Christopher fans allowed.
This article appears in Sep 21-27, 2006.