Smokin Moose
Fallen Cannabis Warrior & Ex Moderator
Showcase Television Helps Break More Taboos With Cult Favourite Weeds
NEXT TIME YOU light a spliff and sit in front of the tube, why not flip to a show that portrays the industry of the reefer you're enjoying?
A new phase in the presence of marijuana in the entertainment media seems to be signaled by the rising popularity of Weeds, the blazed comedy/drama carried by the cable network Showcase. The greener grass is the bona-fide star of the show, produced by Vancouver-based Lions Gate Entertainment. Weeds follows the misadventures of the recently widowed Nancy Botwin ( portrayed by the acclaimed thespian Mary-Louise Parker ), suburban mother of two and would-be drug lord.
Set amongst the mega homes of the fictional, gated community of Agrestic in Southern California, the show chronicles Nancy's growth from small-time dealer to major player in the local drug scene. Meanwhile, her two sons--the randy, teenaged Silas and the articulate preteen Shane--deal with their father's death in a suburbia populated by a captivating cast of screwball characters. They range from Nancy's frigidly repressed and frighteningly manipulative fellow mom Celia Hodes ( Elizabeth Perkins ) to her contentedly jobless and radically liberal brother-in-law, Andy ( Justin Kirk ), who is learning to become a rabbi to avoid U.S. military service.
The show's portrayal of a thriving pot market in an ostensibly pristine model community peopled by the super wealthy is part of an, ahem, budding tendency towards the normalization of marijuana in the entertainment industry. While it certainly showcases the dangers of the drug market, Weeds normalizes marijuana to the extent that it becomes a cultural fait accompli as much as any legally sanctioned intoxicant.
Weeds seems to be part of a growing trend in this direction. Another notable example is Knocked Up, the relentlessly funny flick co-produced by Toronto-born Shauna Robertson and starring Canucks Seth Rogen and Jay Baruchel. Similar to Weeds, Knocked Up takes for granted the idea that weed and even hallucinogenic mushrooms--usually represented in the media as dangerous substances--are the stuff of normal social interaction.
Weeds' opening credits--which rolls to the tune of Malvina Reynolds' suburb-bashing protest song "Little Boxes"--is the only reference to the psychedelic 60s and 70s culture to which That 70s Show, among others, appeals to audiences in order to frame the issue of regular marijuana use.
From the outset, Weeds announces itself as an independent television initiative. It earns its "Mature Audience" rating with gusto, offering explicit depictions of raunchy sex, violent posturing by gun-toting thugs, radical Bush-bashing liberalism, and of course drugs, drugs, drugs.
Contrasted with these dark social undercurrents is the picture-perfect gated community, its outwardly sunny inhabitants, their doomed attempts to preserve family meal times, and Nancy Botwin herself--an ethereal, ultra-feminine space cadet who floats dazedly through single motherhood and the shady subculture of the drug trade. Nancy navigates this underworld with surprising success and increasing confidence, all the while batting gigantic brown eyes and sucking back the iced coffees that are her own addiction.
Showtime airs a number of other taboo-busting shows, including The L-Word and Dexter, but Weeds is unique in its devotion to drug trafficking from the perspective of the dealer and not law enforcement.
As such, the show is immensely popular. Weeds is moving beyond its initial cult following, having become Showtime's highest-rated original program. It has attracted cameos from the likes of Snoop Dogg, as well as relatively high-wattage guest stars such as Mary-Kate Olsen and Carrie Fisher.
Whether or not the show's normalizing of ganja can be attributed in part to Canadian influences such as Lions Gate's base in Vancouver, B.C.--North America's own version of Amsterdam--Weeds adopts an everyday attitude toward everyone's favourite illegal herb. It seems that the entertainment industry has learned how to sit back, relax, and breathe in the smoke.
Source: Fulcrum, The (U of Ottawa, CN ON Edu)
Copyright: 2007 The Fulcrum
Contact: editor@thefulcrum.com
Website: The Fulcrum | The University of Ottawa's independent English-language student newspaper
NEXT TIME YOU light a spliff and sit in front of the tube, why not flip to a show that portrays the industry of the reefer you're enjoying?
A new phase in the presence of marijuana in the entertainment media seems to be signaled by the rising popularity of Weeds, the blazed comedy/drama carried by the cable network Showcase. The greener grass is the bona-fide star of the show, produced by Vancouver-based Lions Gate Entertainment. Weeds follows the misadventures of the recently widowed Nancy Botwin ( portrayed by the acclaimed thespian Mary-Louise Parker ), suburban mother of two and would-be drug lord.
Set amongst the mega homes of the fictional, gated community of Agrestic in Southern California, the show chronicles Nancy's growth from small-time dealer to major player in the local drug scene. Meanwhile, her two sons--the randy, teenaged Silas and the articulate preteen Shane--deal with their father's death in a suburbia populated by a captivating cast of screwball characters. They range from Nancy's frigidly repressed and frighteningly manipulative fellow mom Celia Hodes ( Elizabeth Perkins ) to her contentedly jobless and radically liberal brother-in-law, Andy ( Justin Kirk ), who is learning to become a rabbi to avoid U.S. military service.
The show's portrayal of a thriving pot market in an ostensibly pristine model community peopled by the super wealthy is part of an, ahem, budding tendency towards the normalization of marijuana in the entertainment industry. While it certainly showcases the dangers of the drug market, Weeds normalizes marijuana to the extent that it becomes a cultural fait accompli as much as any legally sanctioned intoxicant.
Weeds seems to be part of a growing trend in this direction. Another notable example is Knocked Up, the relentlessly funny flick co-produced by Toronto-born Shauna Robertson and starring Canucks Seth Rogen and Jay Baruchel. Similar to Weeds, Knocked Up takes for granted the idea that weed and even hallucinogenic mushrooms--usually represented in the media as dangerous substances--are the stuff of normal social interaction.
Weeds' opening credits--which rolls to the tune of Malvina Reynolds' suburb-bashing protest song "Little Boxes"--is the only reference to the psychedelic 60s and 70s culture to which That 70s Show, among others, appeals to audiences in order to frame the issue of regular marijuana use.
From the outset, Weeds announces itself as an independent television initiative. It earns its "Mature Audience" rating with gusto, offering explicit depictions of raunchy sex, violent posturing by gun-toting thugs, radical Bush-bashing liberalism, and of course drugs, drugs, drugs.
Contrasted with these dark social undercurrents is the picture-perfect gated community, its outwardly sunny inhabitants, their doomed attempts to preserve family meal times, and Nancy Botwin herself--an ethereal, ultra-feminine space cadet who floats dazedly through single motherhood and the shady subculture of the drug trade. Nancy navigates this underworld with surprising success and increasing confidence, all the while batting gigantic brown eyes and sucking back the iced coffees that are her own addiction.
Showtime airs a number of other taboo-busting shows, including The L-Word and Dexter, but Weeds is unique in its devotion to drug trafficking from the perspective of the dealer and not law enforcement.
As such, the show is immensely popular. Weeds is moving beyond its initial cult following, having become Showtime's highest-rated original program. It has attracted cameos from the likes of Snoop Dogg, as well as relatively high-wattage guest stars such as Mary-Kate Olsen and Carrie Fisher.
Whether or not the show's normalizing of ganja can be attributed in part to Canadian influences such as Lions Gate's base in Vancouver, B.C.--North America's own version of Amsterdam--Weeds adopts an everyday attitude toward everyone's favourite illegal herb. It seems that the entertainment industry has learned how to sit back, relax, and breathe in the smoke.
Source: Fulcrum, The (U of Ottawa, CN ON Edu)
Copyright: 2007 The Fulcrum
Contact: editor@thefulcrum.com
Website: The Fulcrum | The University of Ottawa's independent English-language student newspaper
