Episodic Classics: The O.C., “The Aftermath,” ”The Shape of Things,” ”The End of Innocence” | Season 3, Episodes 1, 2, & 3

Believe it or not, this season starts off well

Screenshot: Hulu

Welcome back to LaToya Ferguson’s Episodic Classics coverage of The O.C., which now enters season three because you have to take the good with the bad. As always, this first review is free for all, but if you want to follow along on the diagnostic of what went wrong, become a paid subscriber.

“That’s the great thing about this place: Nothing ever happens.” — Sandy Cohen, “The End of Innocence”

When Sandy says that line at the end of the episode, it’s obviously with a winking tone. Something’s always happening in Newport Beach, whether it’s the social committee chair shooting someone or a kid from the wrong side of the tracks punching out a faculty member or a real estate mogul sweeping the rug out from under his trophy wife one more time from beyond the grave. But at the same time, Sandy says this during a closing scene that bodes well for the future of the season. It’s a touching reunion scene for the Cohen family that suggests The O.C.’s third season is going to be all right and maybe even a true return to form after a mixed bag of a second season.

Unfortunately, the rest of the season after this episode ends up falling off a cliff, both figuratively and literally.

Despite this season introducing the character that is arguably my favorite of the entire series, I don’t believe anyone would call The O.C. Season Three their favorite. However, upon rewatching these first three episodes, I was struck by just how well they actually work. At least, 99% of each episode technically works. Things are definitely different coming into this season, starting with a new composer; Richard Richard Marvin takes over from Christopher Tyng (composer for the first two seasons), immediately forgoing the often light, bouncy O.C. score we’d grown accustomed to in favor of a more gloomy and obtrusive (especially in the premiere) score.

There’s also a notable departure from the usual episode runners and throughlines that had become synonymous with The O.C.’s writing style. The meta nature of the show continues on, but the last quarter of “The Aftermath,” in particular, ends up doing multiple Season One reduxes: Ryan running away with the help of his friends, a plan to sail to Catalina, Ryan in a jumpsuit and having a hard-headed conversation with Sandy, using the candy striper gimmick to maneuver around the hospital. As I wrote during my Season Two coverage, there was a clear desire from the fandom and within the writers’ room to recapture the magic of Season One, but a lot of that translated onscreen into Seth straight up calling out how that season sucked in comparison, essentially burying things before they could ever even get off the ground. It’s a smarter and more enjoyable choice to just do the things we’ve seen before and wink at how it’s been a while since we’ve seen them instead, but there’s still not a lot of substance to it. The only thing added is the inclusion of Summer to the runaway plan, as she was still on the outside as a character in “The Model Home.” But that inclusion, in general, is a necessary piece of the puzzle that is The O.C., as her role as the positive member of the group is a necessary contrast to Ryan as the sadsack, Seth as the snark-master, and Marissa as the sadsack, as well—this will be especially necessary (and something of a balm to the season) moving forward.

But those changes to the score and the show’s approach to storytelling aren’t inherently negative changes. When it comes to this season, a large part of the negativity surrounding it originally came from outside factors. Alan Sepinwall’s Welcome to The O.C.: The Oral History goes into far more detail about all of this, but heading into the making of the season, Peter Liguori took over as FOX Chairman, which coincided with the network becoming more “male and very action-heavy” (a la the thriving Prison Break and 24). As Stephanie Savage explained, “The quote that got back to me [from someone at the network] was, ‘This was the NASCAR network. We don’t make shows about nerds that talk to plastic horses.” It was a comment that Savage disagreed with, as FOX had always had lighter shows and she felt “like they were trying to make us into something that we weren’t and that we didn’t have to be.” The new directive for the season was “promotable elements,” which would seemingly be what The O.C. was already working with but apparently not, under the Liguori regime.

So despite the reaction to last season’s adult storylines and the complete failure of FOX’s attempt at doing an adult version of The O.C. in North Shore, the directive was for The O.C. to be more like ABC’s Desperate Housewives, with more adult stories. Josh Schwartz and company were also told to introduce “a mysterious femme fatale.” Dawson’s Creek fans might remember just how “well” that also turned out for early Dawson’s Creek Season Three, with the Eve storyline leading to the cast going to the network and getting Alex Gansa ousted as showrunner and Greg Berlanti taking the reins. Since The O.C. obviously couldn’t just go to a network that wanted this new direction in the first place, as the season went on the actors were all too disillusioned to do anything but wear their disinterest in the show on their sleeves, while Schwartz was eventually doing the best he could to avoid any and all conflict (and his actors).

Screenshot: Hulu

“The Aftermath”

What’s impressive about these first few episodes is that they have a difficult task—tackling the aftermath of the Season Two finale—and actually succeed in doing so. Marissa shooting Trey to save Ryan is the kind of big finale moment where you just have to know how things will end up. Is Trey going to survive? Is Marissa going to jail? Is the gang going to work to protect Marissa? Are they possibly going to frame Jess (whose gun it was) for shooting Trey? This isn’t something that can be adequately handled in just a single episode. With the first day of senior year on the horizon, there’s immediately a deadline to “resolve” things, but even once school starts, things aren’t over by a long shot. It’s not an enviable position for Schwartz and the writers’ room to have been in, but they manage to handle it well in these episodes. In fact, to be on the nose, The O.C. handles the aftermath, the shape of things, and the end of innocence rather well in these episodes.

It’s also impressive how Julie Cooper-Nichol can continue to be the “worst” but still a character worth rooting for. In the premiere, she’s doing everything she can to pin the blame on Ryan in Trey’s shooting, going as far as to bribe Trey to lie. (That Trey decides to do it at first—to protect Marissa, instead of his own brother—is this season’s earliest example of the Marissa Cooper Derangement Syndrome but far from its last.) Again, as selfish as the Julie character is, the driving force is almost always that she’s doing these things for her family. And not the way Jimmy would claim he was doing things for her family either; nearly every decision Julie makes is because she believes it’s what she needs to do to protect her daughters and allow them to survive and thrive. That’s the reason why after she asks Marissa (in “The End of Innocence”), “What am I gonna do?” she immediately follows it up with, “What are we gonna do?” Love her or hate her, Julie does what she does to take care of her family. (Except for the whole affair with Luke thing.) The problems arise, however, as Julie does these things no matter the collateral damage, which often happens to be Ryan.

While The O.C. has always balanced various tones, “The Aftermath” really has its work cut out for it. There’s the frantic energy of the post-shooting, there’s the serious tone of the legal cases against Ryan and Marissa, there’s the necessary levity and humor that you expect from The O.C., there’s whatever’s going on in Kirsten’s story, and then there’s the Season One tribute act before the brief-but-emotionally-charged send-off to Trey Atwood. Though it’s all noticeably different, it’s also nowhere near the kind of a mess it could or should be. But while no character is informing the audience that it’s a “new era,” there’s still an air of something that says the show can’t ever go back to what it was, no matter how hard it tries.

Screenshot: Hulu

“The Shape of Things”

On the one hand, as things end with Marissa getting no jail time for shooting Trey, Julie really tries to ruin Ryan’s life even though there was never any way Marissa was going to suffer real legal consequences for what she did. On the other hand, as Julie explains here, that’s not thinking about the full picture. While Marissa can argue against people listening to Newport gossip or caring what the people think of them, the fact is that that’s exactly what matters in a small town like this. It would be one thing if the gossip weren’t true, but it very much is. And much like there were consequences to Jimmy losing a bunch of Newport residents’ money, here, there are finally consequences for the latest, most dangerous mess in Marissa Cooper’s life.

Season Three is when the show finally acknowledges that everyone at The Harbor School (and their parents) must consider the Core Four either absolutely bizarre (at best) or the absolute worst (at… worst). Season Two somewhat worked that into the fabric of the show with Marissa’s reputation allowing her to get close to Jess, but post-shooting it would obviously be hard for the show to ignore the larger ramifications in such a small community. And with this acknowledgment arrives the series’ answer to Tracy Flick, Taylor Townsend (Autumn Reeser).

Last season, I noted how it was absurd to believe that Marissa was still able to function as social chair despite her behavior, and finally, we get confirmation: while Marissa is off getting day drunk or hooking up with Olivia Wilde or shooting Logan Marshall-Green, Taylor is actually getting all the work done as the uncrowned social chair. Just remember, if nothing else of value comes from this season, let it never be said it gave us nothing, as Autumn Reeser's energy as Taylor (much like Rachel Bilson’s as Summer) is very much needed. And yet, despite her being in direct opposition to Marissa, Taylor is immediately positioned as Summer’s rival in this episode. While one could argue that it’s because Summer is acting as Marissa’s proxy—as Marissa ends up getting kicked out of Harbor here—it’s yet another writing choice that speaks to The O.C.’s inability to make Marissa a dynamic character (and highlights the show’s clear belief that Mischa Barton couldn’t handle such a position).

“The Shape of Things” also introduces Harbor’s new Dean of Discipline, Jack Hess (Eric Mabius, the television season before Ugly Betty). Hess works the best of this season’s new adult characters, only because he doesn’t end up overstaying his chilly welcome. And especially after this episode, he is cartoonishly villainous in his behavior to the point of the audience not really needing to take him as seriously as the show may intend him to be. Especially watching now as a full-grown adult, it’s hard not to be on Hess’ side when he calls Marissa “troubled” or brings up all of her earlier issues (her shoplifting, drinking problem, and overdose in Tijuana) that should’ve gotten her in hot water at Harbor much sooner. As much as you might want to argue against that—especially as a teen watching the show who’s actually a fan of Marissa—all of that is true, and it doesn’t bode well that Marissa tries to argue that she’s not “troubled.” While Marissa may currently be trying her best, at the end of the day the defining word for this character will always be “troubled.” This is why, after this scene, Hess’ antagonism is indefensible. He physically removes Marissa from the Kickoff Carnival, he publicly says that he’s trying to Ryan kicked out of school, and then targets Seth and Summer because of their guilt by association. That’s all just the tip of the iceberg for the character, and his villainous blond allegiance with Taylor makes for a pretty striking image to end this episode. But he’s also thankfully not the type of character that has a long shelf life.

Screenshot: Hulu

“The End of Innocence”

There’s something to be said about Marissa Cooper’s characterization in Season Three of The O.C., as it arguably provides two of the character’s best episodes (in terms of actual character growth and maturity), while also otherwise providing the nadir of the character’s existence. Those two episodes would be “The End of Innocence” (in which Marissa handles the possibility of moving healthily, finally sees and addresses her father for who he really is, and presents herself as a rock to her mother) and “The Graduates” (the season finale, which, surprisingly, is the most mature and at peace Marissa ever is). “The Shape of Things” has a moment where Marissa goes back to the well of being unable to speak up for herself (like in Season One) before she completely botches the attempt to get Hess to allow her back into Harbor, but there is such a self-assuredness and maturity in the Marissa character in these episodes that it feels like there’s potential to do some real good in rehabbing her this season. Again, everything falls off a cliff after this episode, but the potential was clearly there. If anything, there’s the worry that Ryan could possibly be the one devolving, as his savior complex—especially when it comes to Marissa—is what led to him confronting Trey and then leads to him punching Hess. Then there’s this line he says to Sandy:

“You and I are both here because somebody gave us a break. Well, now Marissa needs one.”

I don’t believe that Schwartz, Savage, and company genuinely believe that Marissa Cooper, of all people, has never gotten a break or wouldn’t be getting one if she had to move to Hawaii with her family. I do, however, believe the line speaks to the childish naivete Ryan Atwood always has when it comes to Marissa. Because if there’s one thing Marissa has gotten all her life and continues to get in even these episodes—despite being expelled—it’s constant breaks. While Marissa has proven before that despite her objections she actually does need saving, it’s in these episodes where, for the first time, those objections actually ring true. I’ve made my feelings about Marissa and this television season clear for a long time, but the best part of these reviews for me is getting to recontextualize and reassess certain elements of The O.C. through a new lens. And it’s astonishing to go back and see that this season actually started off on the right track with this character and in its follow-up to something as big as the Season Two finale.

Except for when it comes to the Charlotte Morgan (Jeri Ryan) story, that 1% that really doesn’t work in these episodes.

Screenshot: Hulu

Regarding the inclusion of a femme fatale, naturally the writers initially pointed out that they already had that; they already had their “pot-stirrer,” their “Heather Locklear” in Julie. And from these episodes, she’s even more interesting than just that archetype, as she’s able to shift between being the antagonist to the Cohen-Atwood collective and still being extremely close to the family, especially Kirsten. But that which made her more interesting is apparently what made the network consider her “too soft and likable and well-rounded.” Enter Jeri Ryan’s Charlotte—as mandated by FOX, where Ryan was just fresh off Boston Public—who from these first few episodes feels more like a psychotic lesbian obsessed with Kirsten than the clear grifter she ends up being. And considering The O.C.’s foray into the world of queer women last season, strangely that might have been less offensive. But as hacky as a Single White Female plot would’ve been, it would at least have been a story that Schwartz would’ve remembered the plot of when asked about it. Instead, it’s the first new adult dud character of this season, providing some more early conflict between Sandy and Kirsten despite the negative reaction to such things last season.

As good as Kelly Rowan is, no one was clamoring for more scenes and episodes of Kirsten being so devoid of energy and life, of being so unsure of herself while Sandy worries about her. By going all in on Kirsten’s alcoholism, The O.C. made the choice to eliminate any more fun to be had out of Kirsten getting drunk during an event-of-the-week. While that could lead to plenty of plot fuel on its own, instead there’s Charlotte, a character that spends every other scene popping out of corners and transparently manipulating Kirsten into negative self-esteem and confidence for…reasons. Kirsten second-guessing herself and her sobriety due to a third party is a risky choice that instantly serves as a warning sign that The O.C. isn’t completely back on track. And in following through with it and what the network decided it wanted out of the show, The O.C. would only continue to go off the rails.

But the season isn’t quite there yet. The reveal that Caleb Nichol died broke and left Julie with absolutely nothing is the one thing that makes the decision to kill off Caleb really worth it. Summer versus Taylor Townsend is such a different, higher energy than just about anything else on the show right now. And with all the serious drama in these episodes, the Core Four is also tighter than ever, which is always key in a teen drama, as you never want to wonder why any of the characters are still hanging out with each other.

Plus, despite the obvious promise of rocky shores ahead for Ryan/Marissa (as that is always the case for them), these episodes probably have them at their healthiest as a couple. Even their typical lack of communication ends up being a hurdle they actually end up jumping together, allowing the characters and the show to move on from the Trey situation as naturally as possible. And while the lifeguard station made minor appearances last season, it becomes an honorary supporting character this season and part of the Ryan/Marissa relationship. For all the issues with this pairing and the trouble that comes when they’re together, at their sweetest and most earnest, it’s hard not to see why they would want to be together despite the trouble. And while Ryan/Marissa sleeping together for the first time isn’t technically “the end of innocence,” as neither were virgins, the scene is still genuinely romantic. Even juxtaposed with Jimmy getting his ass beat.

Stray observations

• The Most 2005 Moment of the Episode: “Summer, we have HBO on Demand. Every season of Sex and the City. Knock yourself out.” (“The Aftermath”); re: a chocolate fountain at the carnival, “Didn’t Britney have one at her wedding?” (“The Shape of Things”); Summer’s insistence on calling Taylor a “skank,” unfortunately (“The End of Innocence”).

• Favorite Needle Drop of the Episode: Bloc Party’s “Blue Light” as Trey and Ryan have their silent, painful goodbye; Death Cab for Cutie’s “Soul Meets Body” as the Core Four half-heartedly plan for a great senior year; Black Rebel Motorcycle Club's "Salvation" as Jimmy gets his ass beat.

• According to Summer, there are always comas on The Valley, to allow for recasting. Obviously, despite putting Trey in a coma, that recasting already happened beforehand. But considering The O.C. and The Valley comparisons have otherwise usually been pretty one-to-one, I imagine this bit is more in line with what the network wanted out of The O.C. at this point.

• I mentioned Mabius/Ugly Betty, so I should also note Timothy Omundson as the Deputy D.A. in the premiere. Psych would end up premiering in the summer of 2006.

• As much as it tracks that everyone would try to pin the shooting on Ryan instead of Marissa—and the drama of that all works—a gunshot residue test would have solidified things, wouldn’t it?

• As far as I can tell, there are two Michael J. Fox bits in the premiere. The first is Seth and Ryan watching Teen Wolf. (And as for why becoming a werewolf turns him into a good basketball player, it’s because becoming a werewolf turns him into a Black man.) The second is proof that Charlotte is a fake (or actually that Josh Schwartz only had one frame of reference), as she brings up rifling through the cupboards for vanilla extract to get a buzz… like in the Family Ties episode where Tom Hanks plays the alcoholic uncle.

• Summer: “Alright, I have an idea.”
  Seth: “Are you gonna save Chrismukkah again? ‘Cause I really enjoyed that last time.”

• Summer: “Mr. Cooper’s got a nice boat, huh?”
  Seth: “Yeah, it’s amazing what laundered money can buy.” It’s very funny that Jimmy Cooper’s whole thing is being the rich boy who went into finance but completely sucks at it. Newport Beach’s biggest fail son.

• Summer: “Should we bring him a snack? What does Ryan eat?”
  Seth: “Dry cereal from a box and black coffee.” Seth/Summer really are a dynamic duo.

• The thing about Ryan trying to run away again is that, in “The Model Home,” it was an understandable scared kid reaction. As the show hammers home it being senior year and these characters growing up, that reaction doesn’t quite work. And it mostly only exists to include Summer this time (and get Ryan back into a jumpsuit). At least Seth then calls out the atonally “light-hearted” gesture in doing the candy striper thing again.

• The guys don’t get how Kirsten always kept their home so pristine because they seem to have forgotten they had a housekeeper in Season One. One of those early series things that fade away because it doesn’t make the Cohens the more relatable rich family to watch.

• A solid moment in “The Shape of Things” is Ryan asking Seth to grab a trash bag, the two of them starting a walk and talk, then Ryan stopping to go back to get the bag that Seth didn’t even think about grabbing.

• I suppose the reveal of Charlotte with the flask is the “adult,” less iconic version of Valerie Malone smoking pot in the Walsh home in Beverly Hills, 90210. She also smokes cigarettes indoors with her flask nearby. I actually don’t know how people really feel about Jeri Ryan as an actor. For me, I’ve always kind of felt like she has a very disingenuous air about her performances, which I’ve found really worked for her stints on Leverage and Bosch (I’ve recently become a Bosch-head). So in theory, I should enjoy her here…