My co-worker Ty Alexander, inadvertently convinced me to tune into the season 3 premiere of “Scandal” last night. She, like many other devout Olivia Pope fans, shamelessly promote “Scandal” in everyday conversation like they’re on ABC’s payroll. For instance, “Hey girl, wassup?” “Nothing watching ‘Scandal’ reruns on Hulu.” Blank stare.
As much as I fought not giving in to the obsession and tried not to let myself be shamed by “Gladiators” into watching the “greatest show on television,” I had to admit to myself that I really wanted to see what all the hype was about. Why were people losing sleep? Or not breathing until Harrison Wright (Columbus Short) delivered a farcical, rapid, tongue-twisting monologue while dramatically gazing off-camera into an imaginary abyss? What is so damn addictive about “Scandal?”
I don’t know how to say this without stirring the Black feminist movement but, I’m not really a fan of Kerry Washington‘s acting skills. I know, I know, some consider her the second coming to Jesus. Washington is the first Black woman to be nominated for lead actress in a drama series since Cicely Tyson in 1995 for “Sweet Justice,” and for that, I will give respect where respect is due. But I won’t be forced to like “Scandal” no matter how many “Gladiators” Olivia Pope has in her stable.
Last night when my alarm went off at 10pm sharp, I got out of bed, turned on the television and propped myself up on my pillow, giving Olivia Pope’s concrete pout my full attention. Anticipating an orgasm as soon as Kerry Washington entered the scene, I prepared myself for Jesus to enter my life.
“Scandal” began with Olivia and her father Rowan, in a hangar, as they discussed her disappearance from the political field as a way to handle the breaking news that she was the President’s mistress. Apparently her father is the most intense man on this earth because he belittled Olivia for being so mediocre, which is pretty accurate since she’s messing with a married man. His plan for his daughter to disappear involved sending her off on a one-way ticket to obscurity, but it was blocked by Cyrus.
During a laughable phone conversation with Olivia, Cyrus admitted that he is a monster. “But I’m your monster,” he promised. How corny. At the moment where Olivia marched off the private jet, mouth poked out like a child who refused to go to bed, and stormed past her fast-talking pops, who began another epic speech littered with Black clichés like “You have to be twice as good as them to get half of what they have,” I realized “Scandal” is seriously not good. F**k it. It’s terrible! Yeah I said it.
Then it got worse.
Olivia “The Fixer” Pope called out a special code, sending her team into action to come rescue her. At that point, I had a choice to make: continue fighting my sleep or torture myself trying to decipher what the f**k they were saying in that bunker encounter. And guess which scenario won? Sleep. God, I will never get back those 10 minutes of my life.
I hate “Scandal.” I want to punch every “Scandal” fan in the head. It is the most long-winded, fast-talking, rant-consumed, overly dramatic soap opera-like hour. And, I think the acting sucked. Is there anyone who shares my feelings? *Scans the lonely room.*
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