I realized that when I was about five. Scooby-doo was an insult to my intelligence. It was the same thing every week. The kids drive into a new town and find there is a ghost/vampire/werewolf, what have you. Everyone is afraid except the gang. They don’t believ in ghosts. The wander around the haunted house/amusement park/junkyard, whatever, having misadventures with the ghoul of the week. Then Velma loses her glasses and, usually literally, stumbles across a clue. Fred figures it all out and tells the police that there was no monster, it was Mr. Blank and that he was doing it to get the diamonds/oil/gold, etc. And he would have gotten away with it “except for those meddling kids”. The end.
It’s boring. It’s always the same. It would be fairly easy to write a computer program to generate Scooby-doo scripts. Even the writers seemed to realize this. In the first series they had some sort of horribly cheerful and upbeat song during the ghost chase scene. Later they did away with the music and started having famous people come on, Don Knotts, Mama Cass, even Cher. Then they added Scrappy-Doo, who is universally reviled. Later they made the kids pre-teens.
It’s just such a cliche, I don’t understand why it’s such a loved show. Some people seem to love it because it’s so horrible. People wear Scooby-Doo trucker hats or what have you. Others seem to love it because it’s a blank slate so they can add whatever subtext they like to it. I dated a girl from Smith college who had this theory that all the characters were representations of students from different schools. Fred was from Princeton, Scooby was from the University of Vermont. Everyone else was from some Ivy league school or the other. I said, “So, what, Velma was from Smith?”
She gasped in horror, “No, Daphne was from Smith!” Which totally wasn’t what I knew of the colleges….I thought Smith girls were all frigid lesbians…needless to say that girlfriend lasted about a month. What do I know? I went to a small southern state college. I wouldn’t recognize post-modernist Michel Foucault if he jumped up and bit me on my “other”.
Others, though, seem to love it in a non-ironic and non-postmodern way. They laugh while I’m so bored I’m setting there trying to analyze the sub-text of the show. I watch them and try to figure it all out while they laugh their asses off.
I think too much about crap like this. Pass the bowl and change the channel. I think Nigella Bites is on. She’s this hot English babe who cooks. Maybe I’ll review that in the future.Powered by Sidelines