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Schitt's Creek

It has taken me a long while to hop on the "Schitt's Creek" bandwagon. I'm on now. A few thoughts:

*The real brilliance of this show is in the minute details. Recently, in an early episode, a phone call arrived for the Levy, Sr. character. The motel phone wasn't working. After the tiresome nonsense of trying to establish that the phone was indeed broken, Levy, Sr. had a great idea: "Send the call next-door, to my son." Of course the phone worked there. And of course the bratty son could not be bothered to invite his father in to field the call. The bratty son had a terrific idea: "Just hang up and call again, but call my dad's number. So glad I could be helpful."

This endless scene--in which truly nothing happens--seems to say so much about miscommunication, passing the buck, and tolerating frustration. It seems to capture everything that occurs continuously in my work life--through metaphor. It's like something you would see in "Peanuts." So therapeutic to witness these observations on the small screen.

*This show also hits home for me because I suspect, at heart, I am a member of Levy, Sr's family. Right now, I'm in the midwest. Last night, I called a pizzeria. The chef asked what kind of dressing I wanted, and thus began a weird ballet about entitlement and vocabulary. "Balsamic vinaigrette," I said, and the chef scoffed. "Any vinaigrette?" I persisted. "Red wine vinaigrette? Oil and vinegar?" At this point, the chef cut me off. "We have Italian."

As I gushed excessively, in a compensatory way, about my love for Italian dressing, I felt very much like Catherine O'Hara.

*It's also genius to build an episode around the fact that O'Hara does not know her own daughter's middle name (and can't bring herself to admit this). Pure pleasure. A fun throwback (I guess to the "I Love Lucy" era). And how envy-inducing to discover all the talent that is running through the Levy family!
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