Posted on Tue, Aug. 05, 2003

Fox's 'O.C.' surprisingly more than skin deep

BY BRIAN LAMBERT
Pioneer Press

I may regret this, but I enjoyed Fox's new series "The O.C."

"The Sopranos," "The Wire" and "Law & Order" have nothing to fear from what is essentially another spin of the "Beverly Hills, 90210"/"Melrose Place" titillation wheel. But at least within the concept of this series, you can see beyond the angst of the beautiful and the pool parties they must attend.

O.C. refers to Orange County, the sprawling, heavily populated, comfortably upscale empire of suburbs just south of L.A. It's a place where the locals pretty much define "upscale" for the rest of the country.

As co-created by 26-year-old producer Josh Schwartz (reportedly the youngest to bring an hourlong drama to network air), "The O.C." is essentially a fish-out-of-water tale. Sixteen-year-old Ryan Atwood (played by Benjamin McKenzie, who looks about 25) is an underachiever from a wretched family in the sneer-worthy suburb of Chino. When his bone-headed older brother steals a car and gets them both thrown in the slammer, his trashy mom's baboon boyfriend heaves him out of the house.

His only option is take his public defender (Peter Gallagher) up on an offer to call him in an emergency. Naturally, since this is Fox World, the public defender shows up in a new BMW 740i and sweeps the troubled teen off to the pampered, permissive bluffs of Newport. (The defender's wife, played by Kelly Rowan, is loaded.)

What ensues is pretty formulaic. Young Ryan isn't even in the mansion before he has met the gorgeous neighbor, Marissa (Mischa Barton, who I'm putting at 24), and been given the first dirty look by her uber-hunk surfer boyfriend (Chris Carmack … maybe 25).

By the time 24 hours have passed, Ryan has bonded with the public defender's video-nerd son, Seth (Adam Brody, the only one of the bunch who'd get carded for beer), attended the fabulous high-school babes' runway fashion show, segued to a teens-only beachfront after-party, brawled with the aforementioned boyfriend and dragged the passed-out Marissa to the safety of his bed.

If you're thinking this sounds like a lot of seen-it-all-before action, even for Fox World, you're absolutely right.

But here's what's interesting. Through all the coke snorting, bikini jiggling and brawling in the surf, there is an awareness of class conflict, embodied by — but not exclusive to — (not-so-) young Ryan. It remains to be seen whether producer Schwartz has any feel for the chasms of class experience that separate millions of Americans, how it happens or what sustains it, but in beautiful-but-troubled neighbor Marissa's father, we see an example rich with dramatic opportunity.

Jimmy (Tate Donovan) is some kind of financial linchpin to his neighbors and a lot of the crème de Newport. But he's under investigation by the Securities and Exchange Commission, and pretty obviously this is going to mean trouble, certainly for him and possibly for others, if they're the crowd living off the post-dot-com bubble and Enron-style market fraud.

It's worth noting that young Schwartz, who was apparently some kind of wunderkind in film school, is in business with none other than Doug Liman, who directs this first episode. Liman ("Swingers," "Go" and "The Bourne Identity") is a proven talent. You hope he stays interested in "The O.C."

Odds are the series will get sucked into the undertow of Fox World and become nothing more than another upscale mall-rat soap opera. But unlike most pilots, it's possible to watch "The O.C." and imagine compelling storylines beyond the next three episodes.

Media columnist Brian Lambert can be reached at blambert@pioneerpress.com or 651-228-5424.