It’s a very tough decision for me to make as to what I’d rate this book. On the one hand, it really is one of the better-written books on TV, movies, or rather, a specific TV show that created a cultural phenomenon. As other reviewers have mentioned, despite their praise or criticism of the book, it seems the one thing that was universally achieved by its publication was that everyone, myself included, went back to watch it (so much nostalgia for people coming of age with this show!).
I can’t really complain about the audio book because I just read the book in its hardcover format. Still, this is one of the few books I may have decided to listen to in audio, given the subject and the recollections by the cast members and production team. It does seem quite strange to me that they could all take time out to reconstruct an “oral history” for the book, yet not leave a permanent record of this history narrated in the actors’ own voices.
Moving on, while I did like learning and reminiscing over the show I fell in love with 20 years ago, I was, like many, surprised to find out just how unhappy the cast truly was. Obviously all OC fans know there were a lot of problems on set, namely after the first season. It just wasn’t clear how bad these problems really were.
On top of that, the book so often just glosses over the main problems, never offering any deep insight into why certain actors, producers, or writers acted as they did, or why certain decisions were made. Rather, they simply made very bland excuses or half-assed apologies and then moved on.
My biggest issue was twofold: first, with how they continued to treat Adam Brody as though he could do no wrong: despite his repeated disrespect, arrogance, and outright contempt for the show. Second, but more importantly, how horribly they treated Mischa Barton - the only actual teenager at 17 years old at the time of the show’s debut - a big difference in mindset and maturity compared to the rest of the cast and her co-actors of the “Core Four”: Ryan/Ben: 25, Seth/Adam: 24, Summer/Rachel: 22.
Early to mid-20s is still very young but it’s a world apart from being 17. You at least have some degree of real life experience, adversity, challenges, wisdom. All of the other actors were merely playing 16 year olds; Mischa Barton was that age (well, a year older, but 17 and 16 are of the same mindset, whereas 25, 24, and 22 - and 16 - most certainly are not).
I suppose after Mischa Barton appeared on Melinda Clarke and Rachel Bilson’s podcast - before this book was written - the rest of the actors and crew either already knew how bad her experience truly was, or if they didn’t, they certainly found out, then. Which is why I feel so little is said by Mischa in the book: she either had voiced these complaints for years and knew they’d never own up to their mistakes, or she knew that anything she said disagreeing with the others either wouldn’t be printed, or if it was, it would be ignored.
The writers and executive producers would constantly talk as if they were doing Mischa a favor by hurling all of these complex storylines at her, and while yes, she clearly preferred serious to comedic roles, or playing the ditsy party girl, that doesn’t mean she’s going to be comfortable with taking on a million new problems and character changes from episode to episode:
Barton, though, was mainly concerned with how the exact nature of how the character felt was like a moving target as filming began:
Mischa: “I do remember getting a little bit dismayed as we got into the territory of, ‘could she be more ditzy’? Or, ‘could she be more Southern California?’ Being British and a New Yorker, that’s just very far from me. So I struggled at first setting the tone with her as this like, SoCal, beachy, preppy thing. Though I could maybe relate to the preppy more. We tried a lot with how much of a party girl she was, or she wasn’t. And I do think it took a minute to land on the character.”
She’s given the most uncomfortable scenes from the get-go, like the first cast member to shoot a sex scene with her boyfriend, Luke (played by Chris Carmack, 26 - 9 years older than her):
Mischa: “She was always changing and going through so much. I always felt I didn’t have a handle on where that character was going to go. But when you’re working that often – and I was – at some point, you’ve just got to roll with the punches, and there’s nothing you can do. There’s not enough time to continually prepare. Unlike that first scene in the driveway, or the first party scene where she shows up drunk, there just wasn’t time to think about it that much anymore.”
The most egregious example of this, however, and the one that infuriates me the most, is how Mischa’s character, Marissa, is nearly sexually assaulted by Trey, Ryan’s older brother. Ryan and Trey already have a strained relationship based on Trey’s criminal past, and Ryan desperately needs to believe his brother is capable of turning over a new leaf.
Apparently, this was the best and only way to introduce conflict into the relationship between the two brothers and solidify Ryan’s deep-down feelings that Trey was never truly capable of change.
They couldn’t have Trey trying to coax Marissa into doing drugs, or hey, aiding and abetting in a new crime he’d committed (which as a self-professed “empathetic character”, would make complete sense for Marissa to feel badly for Trey, agreeing to cover up his crime as she believed she was protecting not just him, but ultimately Ryan).
I came up with that idea just now, and so I’m certain that the well-seasoned producers, writers, and directors could have come up with something similarly unforgivable for Trey to do to Ryan that involved Marissa, that wasn’t attempted rape.
That’s what’s so problematic for me, as I just mentioned a couple of paragraphs back: it was a scene created for the sole purpose of introducing conflict between the two brothers. Nothing about the scene is intended to further develop Marissa’s character or her storyline.
Of course, assistant executive producer Stephanie Savage is either completely naive or willfully ignorant of this (I’m going with the latter assumption):
”Mischa, my memory was that she was excited about this storyline. I think she felt more comfortable in the more dramatic storylines versus the more comedic storylines, just as an actor. So I think she was excited to do something that felt like a more important story and something that played to her strengths as an actor.”
Interesting “memory” for someone to have that has admitted throughout the book that ”She [Mischa] was more on her own island with her different boyfriends, going out with Paris and Nicole, and being on Perez Hilton, and in retrospect, I think that was a very scary, dangerous island she shouldn’t have been on by herself. We had the ability to give her a little tugboat to go back and forth. And we didn’t do that, and I regret it.”
or:
“There was one day when we were shooting, and it was a really nice vibe on set. Everyone was sitting around laughing, telling stories. Mischa was sitting in her chair out by the pool house with her back to us, reading a CAA script.
And looking back on that moment, I’m like, why didn’t I just walk over there and go, ‘Hey, everyone’s sitting over here having a nice time and chatting and we’d love for you to join us?’
But I remember just looking over with a very immature feeling of, I guess she’s too cool for us now to sit around and laugh, versus a more mature feeling of, maybe she feels left out. Maybe she doesn’t want to come over because she hasn’t been invited.”
So, what does Mischa have to say to Stephanie Savage’s “memory” of her being “excited to do a storyline that played to her strengths as an actor” - one that isn’t really so much about challenging dialogue, rather, as a young woman, the instinctive fear and desire to get yourself out of a horrifying situation?:
Mischa: “I don’t want to get too much into all of that. But there were varying degrees of how comfortable that stuff made me or didn’t make me. A lot of the beach stuff wasn’t comfortable for really obvious reasons. And, yeah, that was a bit of a heavier scene. So I don’t know how to answer that.”
You’d think, at LEAST for this ONE time, they’d go back to Stephanie for a follow-up response. We’re talking about a very raw storyline that is traumatic for young women everywhere. It should have been addressed. That’s exactly when Savage should have apologized for the way she’d treated Mischa at the time.
But as usual, the author outright ignores this, refusing to abandon the book’s cheerful theme, following Mischa’s statement with, “Marissa refuses to tell Ryan about the sexual assault to avoid hurting him, but he finds out anyway, leading the brothers to begin brawling in Trey’s apartment.” This also includes the very important side note of: “Trey was living in Alex’s old apartment, a way for production to save money by reusing a preexisting set.”
Wow. Just wow. I’m so happy that they cleared the air on that situation, discussing how much it would hurt Ryan to know, and further explaining how important it was for the O.C.’s production team to reuse sets in order to save money on a rather low budget, especially given the show’s popularity. Eye roll.
Mischa’s voice does come in again, but as usual, what she says is never addressed by anyone:
Mischa Barton: “I think the boys had a lot of fun with it” [shooting the fight scene].
Michael Cassidy: “Ben, I remember the face he makes before he fuckin’ lunges at somebody. I was always like, goddamnit, that feels like what I would do if I was in this situation. It felt very real to me, and I was always impressed by that.”
Mischa Barton: “It was a long day. It’s funny that Rachel and Adam just showed up at the very end of the scene, after we’ve been filming for probably twenty hours. I think me sinking down that wall was really the feeling I had at that time of night.”
Once again, entirely glossed over! The only questions asked (after Marissa shoots Trey with his own gun, given he’s about to beat Ryan to death, because remember, this really only affects Ryan and Trey) at the end of the chapter: was Trey dead? What would happen to Marissa after shooting a man, even if it was in defense of someone else? And what could The OC possibly do for an encore?
Nothing about, “Would Marissa ever be able to overcome the inherent trauma of nearly being raped by the brother of her only true love? Of having to shoot her boyfriend’s brother because after the near rape, she was additionally forced to watch her abuser nearly kill the guy she loved?” Nah. Moving on! (Really, this is exactly how the book is written).
MOVING ON, to the opposite side of the coin: the show’s golden child, Adam “could-do-no-wrong” Brody.
The production crew and actors have the completely opposite view of Adam Brody. No matter how many times he comes across as explicitly narcissistic, someone on the show will come to his rescue, making an excuse for his entitled behavior. Even in season three, when he decides to “check out” because he believes the quality of the writing has gone majorly downhill.
He’s still described as an “incredible actor”, with the biggest concerns never being how his horrible attitude and low morale could be negatively affecting other (especially newer) - co-stars. He’s consistently praised for his acting ability, regardless of his complete lack of interest in learning his lines and playing his character.
With Brody, their biggest concern over his complete lack of professionalism isn’t his complete lack of professionalism. It’s how they’re going to “explain his lethargy” in the show. This is when they get the bright idea that Marissa’s rebellious little sister, Kaitlin, will get him hooked on pot.
Josh Schwartz: “Brody just changed his delivery, his investment in it. His style shifted to such a degree that we felt like we needed to account for it creatively…and at least if we can write that he’s stoned, then we’re not trying to write around it.”
The book tells you, half joking, half serious, that you can make a drinking game during the recollection of this story: take a shot for every time the show SKINS is mentioned, specifically in conflict with their own storyline or actors. Well, the same could be said about Rachel Bilson, Josh Schwartz, or any other main player on the show, really, when talking about what a “genius actor” Adam Brody was, despite his shitty attitude and lack of respect for everyone on set.
Rachel Bilson: “Here is a thing about Brody. Even his half effort is still genius. Which is frustrating, cause you’re like, ‘dude, you can just phone it in and still be you,’ which is admirable in a way.”
Stephanie Savage: “Brody was very smart about how he did his ad-libs, knowing that we could cut around them. It would be his scripted dialogue, and then something improvised at the end of the scene or the beginning of the scene, knowing that we could shape that. I think he felt very free, because we would protect him. He could say anything, and you didn’t have to worry that if it didn’t work, it would go on the show.”
Ben McKenzie: “Adam’s hilarious. He had such confidence, certainly hourly. I’d be curious to hear what he says about that.”
Adam Brody: “I was very confident. That wasn’t a projection.”
When he does make an attempt at humility, it’s short-lived thanks to interjection by the others. For instance, the author of the book mentions ”while filming the pilot, Brody improvised a few lines - most memorably, Seth spotting drugs at the party and declaring ‘Oh, hey, cocaine… that’s awesome.’”
To me, at the time and after a rewatch, sure, it was a remark that stood out a bit - but not because of its “hilarity” or any sort of comedic value. As Brody himself says, ”it’s not a clever line. It’s funny because someone’s saying something ironically in a soap opera.”
Immediately in comes Rachel Bilson to set the record straight, for those of us doubting Adam Brody’s true “comedic genius”, in one of the very few instances in which he seems to doubt himself at all:
Rachel Bilson: “He’s just saying that because of the pressure he puts on himself. But in the moment, he’s HILARIOUS. And his fucking improvs! Every single one, I think, made it on camera. Everyone laughed and loved it, and they all wound up in the show.”
Stephanie Savage: “Any episode that ended with a Seth and Summer scene, there’s a good chance that the end of that is improvised. When she brings home Pancakes the bunny in season four and goes, ‘Pancakes is my daughter’, that was all completely made up.”
Seriously?! We’re gushing over how hilarious it is that Adam Brody says, “oh cool, cocaine” sarcastically at a party, and the unparalleled comedic improv by Rachel Bilson which is attributed to her…calling a bunny her daughter? Wow.
At the beginning of this review, I was thinking about a three or four star rating - but after more consideration, it’s hard not to imagine how much better Mischa Barton’s acting career and life following the OC could have been. If only the producers, directors, writers, and co-stars had put in half (or even a quarter) the effort hyping up Mischa the way they hyped up Adam Brody and Rachel Bilson.
There’s no serious attempt at self-reflection. There’s no looking back, with the benefit of hindsight, at the seriously childish behavior exhibited by the older producers and writers toward Mischa. No genuine admissions of guilt or apologies in how they failed to look after the youngest member of their cast properly. Even when it’s mentioned how Mischa is constantly overworked and exhausted, shooting twenty hours in a row and getting only six days off in one particular year, they avoid any responsibility by placing the blame squarely onto the shoulders of Mischa’s “momager” (mother/manager).
Sure, that’s believable. As head directors and producers of the show, they had no control over the show’s scheduling and shooting. This may be a great walk down memory lane for many, but I’d prefer to just watch the show again. It’s obvious that even twenty years later, the producers and directors refuse to acknowledge their obvious favoritism with some actors, to the detriment of the other actors. My message to them? Grow the hell up. You’ve had more than enough time.
2 1/2 stars.
**Also, I apologize for the length of the review and any accompanying grammatical errors; I’ve been trying to fix them, but a few will be inevitable. I felt as though all of this had to be acknowledged, in order to explain the level of my frustration.