If a tome of guilty pleasures was ever written, The L Word would have a secure place in the 2000s. It's not so much that it's bad–or… I take that back, it is bad… at first. So bad that after the two hour pilot all I could say was “No, no, no, no” to the idea of watching more. But due to the fact that Jim won all three seasons in a raffle and wanted to get the most out of his spoils and that I was in the haze of the kind of hang over that leaves one unable to sit up, let alone make serious and complex decisions like what we could watch instead of the L Word, I relented and ended up watching, oh… 18 hours or so.
Either anything you devote that much time to becomes good by default, or I can give the show more credit and say they really improved it to the point that I was unabashedly enjoying it.
It's a soap opera and all the lesbians are totally hot, so it's a fantasy piece too. The hottest of the bunch? Shane, oh Shane. She's truly is a wonder to behold. Most improved of the bunch? Alice, whom I recognized, to my horror, as the star of those Yoplait ads where the women sit around comparing their yogurt to real life experiences they've never had, like orgasms and loving relationships. They had this woman turned up to eleven in the first episodes, but really pulled back to make her an actual human. Worst of the bunch? Jenny Schecter. See for yourself, words fail me.
L Word also works as a wonderful nick name if you know someone whose name begins with L who may or may not have been accused of being a lesbian.