Dallas: An In-Depth Analysis of a Soap Opera and why I sometimes wish my last name was Ewing

 I’m a Dallas freak.  Plain and simple.  Oh, and I’ll go ahead and make this statement – I realize that this blog was intended only for details about my house, but as my previous track record has so aptly proven – I don’t typically follow my own rules. Oh yeah, and this is my blog.  So I’ll post what I want (insert cute smiley here).  That being said, for full effect in reading please imagine me sipping a glass of sweet tea and speaking with a Southern Aristocratic tone.  That being said, on with the show! Or blog!

Congratulations TNT!  It didn’t suck!  And I’m so glad it didn’t.  I wasn’t looking forward to having to drive to Atlanta to set fire to your boardroom table.  Thank you for impressing me.  You have big shoes to fill.  Though the beginning was rocky, by twenty minutes in I was shaking my fist at the television and having verbal altercations with the characters.

And to whoever made the creators keep the original theme song, I salute you.  Dallas is not Dallas without that French horn (or whatever instrument it happens to be) opening.  It gave me cold chills.  Really.

So Bobby is thinking about selling Southfork…which kind of makes me hope his cancer takes for thinking such blasphemy.  Preserving the land? Wonderful idea.  Selling the land?  Big ol’ mistake.  If I’ve learned anything from watching Dallas at warp speed (and warp speed means all thirteen seasons in one summer) it is NEVER TRUST ANYONE WITH ANYTHING in Soap Opera Land (I often times wish I lived in Soap Opera Land where I would have lovely tanned abs, no snaggle tooth, and no backfat all whilst driving any car I so choose…and my hair would remain perfectly coiffed even with the top down).

And John Ross, you good sir are the new boy everyone is going to love to hate. Not me.  I think you are best friend material…even if you have a chip the size of a small oak tree on your shoulder.  Perhaps we could share a glass of bourbon one afternoon? Alas, he loves the precious Elena…who was engaged to his cousin Christopher. While we are on the subject of Christopher, let me segue into that for just a moment.

Christopher:  you suck.  You are what? 28? 29? 30? At a minimum too old to continually whine about my-mommy-couldn’t-have-babies-so-daddy-bought-me-and-I’ll-never-be-a-Ewing-ever-oh-woe-is-me!  It was thirty years ago.  Let it go. Nobody likes the kid that constantly whines and plays the victim.  Grow a pair and move on.

Back to John Ross and Elena.  Kudos to you sir for picking a smart girl.  I like you and all (and still really think you are best friend material), but I don’t think you are the brightest bulb in the box.  Therefore that little email that was sent to Elena that Christopher claims he didn’t send and she accused you of sending? I believe you when you said that you didn’t send it.  Not because I believe you are a good guy, but because I don’t believe you are smart enough to know how.  Sorry.  You aren’t the email hacker kind of guy.  You are the hey-I’m-pretty-so-do-a-guy-a-favor-and-I’ll-take-off-my-shirt kind of guy.  But you may surprise me.  I do believe you are smart enough to know how to make money talk. After all, you are your daddy’s son.

J.R./Sue Ellen/Bobby/Ann, I’m so delighted to see original characters (plus one).  You will always have a special place in my heart (and in my home theatre).  The dynamic between these characters is still there…even after twenty years have passed.  My absolute favorite moment was when J.R. sauntered over to Sue Ellen to offer an apology for how rotten he was to her.  He may be old, but his still a charmer…and no one compares to him.  And after all these years, he still has a hold on Sue Ellen.  He knows it, and she knows it.  Bobby, what can I say? You were always the better son, but as J.R. so keenly pointed out – a fool.  And a fool who plays well into J.R.’s hands. 

More so than anything, I love the fact that even though Jock and Ellie have long since passed, their presence on Southfork and control over their children is still a resonating player.  Mentioning either of their names immediately garnishes a new respect from Bobby and J.R. 

Ah, the backstabbing and wheeling/dealing…it makes my heart go all pitter patter.  Especially when land is involved – for there is truly no greater possession.  The threats, the fights, the scheming, the cars (oh my the cars!) and the land, well they all make me wish my last name were Ewing.  There is nothing quite as refreshing as knowing that when you wake up in the morning, it instantaneously ruins another family member’s day.

Although I was a little disappointed with the set decorations (it felt rather blasé and middle class suburban for a family that should be over the top in every way) I could see that being the “new Southfork” of Bobby and Ann.  Whatever.

I’m thrilled to pieces with the countless twists and how all the plots integrate back to one central target – power and the keen ability to take it from someone else.  That was always the theme for any original Dallas episode, and I’m so glad they kept in timing.  As Jock said to Bobby (in I believe 1979), if I gave you power you got nothing.  Real power is something you take.

Greed? Power? Money? Oil? Sex? Count me in. As TNT said in its opening, the backstab never felt so good.

Warm Southern Days,

Russ