The end of McBeal appeal

Zoe Williams12 April 2012

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Ally McBeal has been axed, and the news came as such a surprise to its cast and crew that many cried in public, when everybody knows that you should never be seen out crying unless you're accepting an award. The shock must have been because the sudden closure broke with US TV tradition which is to wait until the actors are 10 years too old for their characters before you drop them. Look at Friends, after all.

The trouble with Ally McBeal is that it embodied qualities and dilemmas which weren't quite universal enough. In fact, they were deeply Nineties. The dilemmas - "I want a boyfriend, I want a baby, I want a fabulous job, I don't want to get baby sick on my shoes, I don't want to end up alone, I thought I could have it all, but shucks, it turns out I can't" - belong to the late thirtysomethings.

My generation of twentysomethings are the core comedy/drama watchers of today but, frankly, we are more likely to emulate Mrs Beaton than Ally McBeal. We've seen these women in the office putting their career above all other considerations and we think they're woeful. I cannot think of anyone my age who would rate her career so highly that she'd sacrifice even a birthday party for it, let alone a family. I've never even heard anyone my own age raise the issue of being a "career woman".

When you think about it, the very idea of making work your first priority is absurd - the whole point of feminism in the first place (well, the sensible sort, anyway) was to create a parity between men and women. And when was the last time you heard a man say, "I couldn't have a wife and family, because I put all my energy into work"? It just never happens.

What really forced apart the generations, what made us all castiron certain that we wanted to be different and we didn't want to be Bridget Jones, was the biological clock business. Ally McBeal types are just plain whiny - they didn't sort out a man soon enough to have the kids, or some confluence of career/men/children failed to happen, and now they won't stop going on about their minuscule IVF options. It shouldn't have taken a genius to work out that a stork isn't going to turn up conveniently at the first stroke of 35. The core laugh of the McBeal joke was "Omigod, I forgot to have children!" - and now it's been said once too often.

The only real talking point left about the show was the comical eating habits of the stars - does Calista really eat nothing but boiled eggs, sliced into 28? Does Portia de Rossi eat loo roll, to fill her up? Does Calista faint all the time, or is that an evil rumour put about by her size-10 costars? That's how the show could have carried on - not as a comedy drama about a viable role model, but as a kind of freak show.

Sex and the City, beware - you're next.

Naked Beckham is free at last

So, yes, this is a groundbreaking photoshoot - in normal life, you very rarely see his chest, baby-oiled or not. And that's before you've even noticed the fashion which, as GQ editor Dylan Jones says, "is really cutting edge ... he looks like David Bowie as the Thin White Duke".

In fact, Beckham has done androgyny-chic once before, on the cover of Arena Homme Plus, and he's also done punched-in-the-head-chic, on the cover of The Face.

The man will clearly wear anything at all, any clothes, any fake bodily fluid, any combination thereof - it's as if he was never allowed a Girl's World when he was a kid, and now he's having to experiment on his own head and torso.

But why would he submit to this endless styling when all others of his profession just go: "No, I won't dress up like a girl, I'm a footballer"? I think it's because, when he's on the cover of a magazine, it's the only time Posh doesn't make him dress up so they both match. He's not in control at all, he's drunk on the freedom.

More than her Cher

? To anyone who's ever been to School Disco, or bought the School Disco compilation CD, or had some lame School Disco-style party - you probably didn't realise what impact your curious desire to recreate the 1980s was going to have. You thought you were just having harmless fun, dressing up in your school uniform. You thought snogging people to the strains of Tainted Love was kind of sweet and cool, as opposed to a tragic and vain attempt to halt the march of time.

But, in fact, you have a very real legacy. A-Ha, the lamest Eighties Norwegian band, has just sold out the Royal Albert Hall and had to book an extra date at Wembley Arena. This is the end of the nation's cultural life. I hope you're ashamed of yourselves.

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