If there is one thing that watching this freshman dramedy has taught me, it's that sometimes in life, overlooking obvious flaws to appreciate subtle charms is much more rewarding than reviling said imperfections for the sake of maintaining superiority.
When it premiered, I was intrigued by the story of Betty Suarez (American Ferrera), a smart-yet-frumpy Mexican American girl from Queens who ends up working as an assistant to Daniel Meade (Eric Mabius), the newly minted and inexperienced Editor-in-Chief at MODE, a high-fashion Vogue-like publication. Of course, from the show's start, I was weary of its cheap, banal villains and its hard-to-believe story lines-but it eventually won me over by adding dimensions to its stock characters and by cultivating its witty originality.
Yet, in the past few weeks since the show returned from winter hiatus, its plot lines have slowly gone from pleasantly pointless to downright painful. This revitalized Cinderella story has caught a mid-season creative cold and the symptoms include plodding plotting, faulty story structuring and worst of all-predictability.
The show's phenomenal and shocking twist in the Jan. 18 episode-the revelation that the bandaged "mystery woman" is Daniel's post-op transsexual sister Alexis, formerly Alexander, who faked her own death in order to undergo a metamorphosis that her father wouldn't have allowed and not, as most fans anticipated, Fey Summers, MODE's murdered former Editor-in-Chief whom Daniel replaced-was a delicious bombshell. Too bad the fun fizzled. The writers turned Alexis (Rebecca Romjin) into a likeable and sympathetic antihero who's just looking for acceptance from her family, and perhaps a boyfriend, instead of fleshing out her vindictive ambitions to take over Meade Publications (which owns MODE) and indict her father, Bradford (Alan Dale), for Fey's murder.
So, since Alexis has pretty much abandoned her and Wilhelmina's machinations, Betty's season-long looming conflict is currently without a consistent villain. To supplement this dearth, writers have suddenly shifted attention to Claire Meade (Judith Light), Daniel and Alexis' over-the-top alcoholic socialite mother, who claims she, not her husband, killed Fey-a saw-it-a-mile-away "twist" considering Fey and Bradford were involved in a two-decade affair. Confused yet?
Meanwhile, Betty is having enough problems of her own. After hemming and hawing for nearly four months worth of episodes, on Feb. 8 she finally decides to break up with her moldy lump of a boyfriend, Walter (Kevin Sussman, king of playing short, whiny, Jewish nebbishes) in order to pursue Henry (Christopher Gorham), the adorably nerdy accountant from the third floor of Betty's office building. And just when fans were about to burst from being able to see the two finally get together, out-of-nowhere arrives Henry's flighty and saccharinely sweet ex-girlfriend, Charlie (Jayma Mays), who is looking to make it work with him in New York.
Betty befriends her before realizing who she is, and when she does find out, she "accidentally" lets the poor, frightened girl get lost on the subway. When Betty's conscience gets the better of her and she calls Henry to help her find little lost Charlie, the two ultimately admit their feelings for one another, and just when they are finally about to kiss on a Manhattan street corner, out of nowhere emerges Charlie from the subway, exhilarated and triumphant from having faced her fears of the big city and ready to become a real New Yorker.
Like I didn't see that one coming. I guess there was no way Henry and Betty could have gotten together anyway before the big season finale (if there is one, considering the lack of a legitimate conflict or villain), but Charlie's appearance is just contrived and unsurprising.
Even the show's recent cameos have been hit-or-miss affairs. I loved Kathy Griffin and Project Runway's Tim Gunn as catty Fashion TV hosts, Jerry O'Connell's role as a cruel bar patron faking enamor with Alexis in order to win a bet, and Becki Newton's part as Ruthie, Betty's disheveled, eager doppelganger at a rival magazine. I absolutely hated Gina Gershon's campy return as Italian fashion diva Fabia, Katherine McPhee's cheap appearance as herself as a Fashion Week guest, and Lucy Liu's yawn-worthy arrival as a jilted girl from Daniel's past, now tantalizingly hot and ready for revenge. Naomi Campbell is scheduled soon for an appearance on the show-I wonder just how the writers are going to botch that one. I just hope "Ugly Betty" doesn't turn into the next "Will and Grace."
Don't get me wrong, the perks are still there. Sure, Wilhelmina's gone soft on us, but her white, Snow Queen wardrobe is still a feast for our jealous eyes. And Justin, Betty's flamboyant and audacious 12-year-old nephew is always a supreme delight to watch. Heck, even the fresh one-liners are still as zippy and clever as always. But just where the hell has Amanda been for the last three episodes except for short bursts of her glorious bitchiness here and there? I miss her acerbic nastiness, her manipulative narcissism and her acid-tongued wit. Her absence, in my opinion, has been the most egregious offense in the show of late.
So, writers, please-enough with the convoluted Shakespearean theatrics. Enough with stretching story lines for as long as you can milk the tension. Enough with shoddy guest stars. And just bring back out precious, cutting Amanda.