Were the "Gilmore Girls" already obnoxious back then?
Fuelled by the rumour of a ninth season, "Gilmore Girls" is flickering across my TV screen again after a long time. I seem to have overlooked one important detail all these years: They're annoying.
So there they are, the heroines of my youth. Through the eyes of a 28-year-old, the "Gilmore Girls" are no longer as colourful as I remember them from my teenage years. In light of the recent rumour of a second sequel, I watched all 157 episodes again - including the Netflix sequel from 2016. Conclusion:
The much-loved mother-daughter duo are obnoxious.
The 2000 series tells the story of 32-year-old, crazy Lorelai Gilmore (Lauren Graham) and her 16-year-old daughter Rory (Alexis Bledel), who is loved by everyone, on their way to an elite university. At the same time, the film focuses on the broken relationship between single parent Lorelai and her rich, conservative parents. They are paying for their granddaughter Rory's education, but in return demand that Lorelai visits regularly with her daughter so that they can build a relationship with her. While Rory is the responsible one of the two, balancing between top of the class and cool kid, Lorelai's character is characterised by restless, rash actions. She is more of a friend to her daughter than a mother. It's this unique relationship that fascinated me at a young age. I wanted to be Rory. And later, later on, I wanted to be Lorelai.
From adult back to toddler
While I used to follow Lorelai's back-and-forth in love with excitement and can now dismiss it as self-sabotage with a roll of the eyes, my former idolisation of Rory gives me trouble. In the first few seasons, the conscientious schoolgirl collects a lot of sympathy points with her down-to-earth attitude, only to gamble them away with the risk-taking of an investment banker from season five onwards. This causes me to chronically shake my head, whereas years ago it was a nod of approval.
Mine
So she starts her first semester at Yale University with an affair with her now-married ex-boyfriend Dean (Jared Padalecki). Lorelai catches them both and tries to explain to her daughter that she is not only doing herself no favours, but is also endangering Dean's young marriage. One of the few moments in which Lorelai slips out of the role of girlfriend.
Rory is defiant and carries on with the affair. With confused sentences like "He's not a married man. He's Dean. My Dean", "I'm not a child. I'm 19" and "He was my boyfriend first", she tries to justify her actions and blames Dean's wife. Dean becomes a toy that no one else is allowed to play with. The argument temporarily divides mother and daughter. Dean, who has never been able to forget his childhood sweetheart Rory since the break-up, divorces her and hopefully starts a second round of relationships with her, only to realise a few episodes later that Rory is not quite as serious as he is.
She's "something special". Is she?
It doesn't take long for pretty Rory, who has managed everything up to now, to find a replacement at university: the filthy rich Logan Huntzberger (Matt Czuchry). His father - who happens to be a media mogul - organises an internship for the budding journalist. In a feedback session, he expresses his concerns about her career choice: He doesn't believe she has what it takes to be a journalist. To vent her anger, she steals a yacht with Logan on the same day - just what a down-to-earth girl does - and ends up in prison. Silence falls between Rory and her mother, who doesn't approve of her relationship with the spoilt Huntzberger. Again.
Meanwhile, her grandparents try to help Rory out of the mess with money and good lawyers - in vain. Rory and her grandparents are outraged. After all, Rory is, as is often mentioned in the series, "something special". The court takes a different view and sentences her to 300 hours of community service. As a result, Rory gives up her studies - after everything her mother and grandparents have already invested in her education. Anyone who gives in so quickly perhaps really lacks the steadfastness that the job of a journalist requires.
Also worth a mention: Logan's parents don't think Rory is good enough. A problem that Rory had previously only known from the other perspective, because her grandparents considered all her ex-boyfriends to be beneath her. She responds to this humiliation with the following sentence: "I'm a Gilmore. Don't they know that?" A weak argument for Rory, who is usually so keen to debate.
The feelings of others leave her cold
The eighth and final season of the hit series, the Netflix sequel "Gilmore Girls: A New Year", leaves no room for interpretation, even for staunch Rory fans: she's an ungrateful brat - and at the age of 32.
Rory is having an affair with her former university boyfriend Logan, who is engaged to someone else. We already know the story. She keeps forgetting that Rory herself has had a boyfriend for two years - Paul, the poor bastard. Literally. In one scene, Lorelai and Rory are sitting in a café. Paul is in the toilet washing his hands. Lorelai uses the time to whisper to her daughter: "You really have to break up with that boy." Rory responds: "Yes, I know, I want to all the time. But then I forget." Then they leave the café. Paul is still in the toilet.
When Rory tells her mum that she wants to write a book about her family life as a couple, Lorelai, who got pregnant at 16 and ran away from home to raise Rory away from her conservative parents, is against it. She doesn't want her life story to be made public. Rory has no sympathy for this. Statements like: "Please mum, I have to do it" and "I've actually thought about this very carefully. I'm not a child". Rory seems to have to emphasise the latter more often. Perhaps because she knows she's acting like one?
Over the course of the eight seasons, Rory enjoys numerous privileges, which she owes not only to her intelligence, but also to her looks and the financial means and relationships of her grandparents and her ex-boyfriend Logan: public school, a faculty building named after her at university, beautiful holiday homes, limousine rides with a chauffeur, a new car and so on and so forth. Nevertheless, she tries to make it clear at every opportunity that she is not the kind of privileged person her mother once wanted to keep her away from.
Rory vs Britney
Let's summarise: Rory can't stand criticism, let alone motherly advice. This is acknowledged several times in the series with a lengthy break in contact. If she has stress with her mum, she runs to her grandparents. If the grandparents are the problem, she seeks comfort from mum. She rarely takes responsibility for her actions. After all, there is always someone there to give her a hand or the necessary change.
So why did my younger self emulate Rory?
Looking back, she struck a chord with my teenage generation. Although posters of half-naked Britney and dirty X-Tina adorned my room, Rory also smiled innocently at me in a turtleneck jumper. She occupied a tangible idol niche far removed from blonde pop stars: That of the schoolgirl with brains, looks and broad, pop-cultural knowledge that every cute boy falls in love with and who escapes the stamp of being a nerd time and time again. Her understanding mum friend, who gave her a lot of freedom, rounded off this unique overall package. When Lorelai did take on the guest role of mum, it felt like she was betraying her friendship.
In the bigger picture, Rory was "something special" after all.
And I wanted to be special too.
No more Gilmore?
I've obviously outgrown Rory as a role model. Her ignorance - which for me back then was an expression of rebellion that I recognised myself in - is now like the annoying screaming of a toddler, fuelled by a fuzzy mother figure. The older Rory gets, the louder she roars.
While Rory and Lorelai once helped me to align my moral compass, it now points in a completely different direction. Fortunately, my personal development went beyond the season finale of the Gilmores. No matter how many times I watch a series, I will always look at it with new eyes. The story remains the same. But not me.
Images: IMDb48 people like this article
Natalie Hemengül
Senior Editor
Natalie.Hemenguel@digitecgalaxus.chAs a massive Disney fan, I see the world through rose-tinted glasses. I worship series from the 90s and consider mermaids a religion. When I’m not dancing in glitter rain, I’m either hanging out at pyjama parties or sitting at my make-up table. P.S. I love you, bacon, garlic and onions.
