Remember those quintessential 90s teen dramas? The ones that perfectly blended high school angst with aspirational Beverly Hills glamour? If you're nodding along, chances are you're thinking of Beverly Hills, 90210. This iconic series, a cultural touchstone for a generation, wasn't just about fashion and fast cars; it tackled complex social issues and personal journeys with a surprisingly nuanced approach for its time. Let's rewind and explore some of the compelling storylines that made this show so unforgettable, particularly focusing on themes of identity, relationships, and societal evolution.
We often look back at the 90s with a sense of nostalgia, a period where certain pop culture phenomena defined an era. Beverly Hills, 90210 definitely falls into that category. It’s the kind of show that, even now, can spark lively debate among fans – or as some might call them, "awfulawesome" enthusiasts. This term, a delightful blend of 'awful' and 'awesome,' perfectly captures that bittersweet feeling of revisiting something you adored as a kid, only to realize with adult eyes that it was both incredibly entertaining and, well, a little bit flawed. Think of Captain Planet – so earnest, so environmentally conscious, and yet, in retrospect, utterly camp. This duality is what makes revisiting 90210 so compelling.
At its heart, the show followed the Walsh twins, Brandon and Brenda, as they navigated their new lives in the affluent world of Beverly Hills after moving from Minnesota. Alongside them were the quintessential LA teens: the alluring Kelly Taylor, the brooding Dylan McKay, the studious Andrea Zuckerman, the macho Steve Sanders, the sweet but sometimes ditzy Donna Martin, and the perpetually striving David Silver. Each character represented a different facet of adolescent experience, offering viewers a mirror to their own budding identities and social circles.
Love, as it often does in the lives of teenagers, played a central role. The on-again, off-again saga between Brenda and Dylan was the stuff of teen dreams and nightmares. Brenda, often portrayed as the more impulsive and emotionally driven twin, found herself repeatedly drawn to Dylan, the enigmatic surfer dude. Yet, their intense connection was constantly tested, not least by the arrival of Kelly Taylor. Kelly, initially Brenda's friend, seemed to have a knack for gravitating towards Brenda's romantic interests, particularly Dylan. It's a classic trope, isn't it? The best friend who can't quite resist the allure of your boyfriend, leading to a dramatic tug-of-war that kept viewers glued to their screens.
Meanwhile, Steve Sanders, the charmingly arrogant popular kid, often found himself caught in complicated romantic entanglements. One notable storyline saw Steve developing feelings for Sarah, a woman who was married and considering marriage counseling with her husband. The emotional turmoil Steve experienced, fearing rejection and grappling with the complexities of loving someone who wasn't entirely available, highlighted the often-messy reality of young love and the difficult choices that come with it. His heartbreak was palpable, especially when Sarah ultimately decided to reconcile with her husband, leaving Steve dateless for an important event.
Donna Martin and David Silver's relationship was another core element, evolving from friendship to a deeply committed romance. Their journey was marked by typical adolescent ups and downs, including periods of doubt and jealousy. At one point, Noah, a new character, expressed his skepticism about marriage, creating friction with Donna, who, despite her seemingly carefree demeanor, valued commitment. Donna's response to Noah's doubts was a mature, albeit manipulative, tactic: she decided to bring another date to an event to make Noah jealous, a classic move designed to provoke a reaction and reaffirm their connection.
Beyond the romantic entanglements, 90210 also dared to address more sensitive societal issues, particularly concerning identity and sexuality. The introduction of Teddy, a character who was grappling with his sexuality, provided a significant plotline. In one episode, Teddy’s personal journey led him to visit a gay bar in West Hollywood. This was a pivotal moment, not just for Teddy but for the show's exploration of LGBTQ+ themes in the 90s. His decision to visit the bar, a space where he could potentially explore his identity more freely, was a brave step for a character navigating such complex feelings.
The scene where Teddy loses his wallet and is forced to ask Ian for help adds a layer of vulnerability and interdependence to his experience. It underscores that even in seeking out spaces for self-discovery, the need for support and connection remains paramount. The implication here is that Teddy’s visit wasn't just about visiting a gay bar; it was about a personal quest for self-acceptance, a journey many viewers could relate to, regardless of their own sexual orientation.
Another storyline that touched upon this theme involved Steve Sanders. In a particularly memorable episode, Steve finds himself in a gay coffeehouse while seeking help after his car breaks down. His reaction upon realizing the nature of the establishment, and then subsequently seeing the president of his fraternity, KEG house, there, is one of panic and quick retreat. Steve’s homophobia, evident in his panicked reaction and subsequent conversation with Brandon, reflects a common societal attitude of the time. Brandon, while perhaps less overtly fearful, also struggles to process the information, highlighting the general lack of widespread understanding and acceptance surrounding homosexuality.
Steve's discomfort escalates when he later interacts with Mike Ryan, the KEG president, and discovers Mike is gay. Steve’s initial reaction is one of shock and a struggle to reconcile Mike’s fraternity status with his sexuality. He questions whether to keep Mike’s secret, revealing his own internalized homophobia. The fact that Steve is interacting with David Silver, who himself was a more flamboyant and less conventionally masculine character, makes his homophobia all the more striking. It begs the question: why is Steve so uncomfortable with something that seems to be part of his social circle?
When the show delved into "big issue" episodes, tackling topics like homosexuality, blindness, and eating disorders, it walked a fine line. Take the storyline involving David Silver's piano lessons. David is struggling with a particular sonata, and his teacher, who happens to be blind, offers rather unconventional advice. Phrases like "let the music play you" and analogies involving waterskiing might sound poetic, but they’re hardly practical piano pedagogy. As someone who's experienced piano lessons, I can attest that such advice would likely be met with amusement rather than enlightenment from a seasoned instructor. Technique, after all, is key!
Despite the questionable teaching methods, Kelly and Donna are genuinely impressed by David’s progress. This contrast between the unusual teaching and the tangible results adds to the show’s “awfulawesome” quality. It’s the kind of storytelling that might not hold up under strict scrutiny but provides pure entertainment value.
Similarly, the portrayal of eating disorders, when Kelly and Donna discuss a charity calendar and make light of Pregnant! Brenda’s eating habits, feels jarringly out of step with modern sensibilities. The casualness with which they discuss such a serious issue is a stark reminder of how societal understanding and discourse have evolved. It’s a perfect example of a show that, while groundbreaking in some areas, also reflects the limitations of its time.
The episode where Steve and Brandon's car breaks down and they seek refuge in a "gay coffeehouse" further illustrates this. The concept of a "gay coffeehouse" itself is presented as something novel, even strange, to Steve. While gay bars were established, the idea of a more casual, daytime space for the LGBTQ+ community was perhaps less common knowledge for a mainstream 90s audience. Steve’s panicked reaction, his fear of being associated with the establishment, and his eventual outing of Mike Ryan to Brandon showcase a character struggling with ingrained prejudice.
Looking back at Beverly Hills, 90210, it's clear the show offered more than just escapism. It provided a platform for conversations about evolving social norms, personal identity, and the complexities of human relationships. Characters like Teddy, by bravely exploring their sexuality, and Steve, by grappling with his own prejudices, represented relatable, albeit dramatized, journeys of self-discovery and societal awareness.
While some storylines might make us cringe with modern perspectives, the show’s willingness to tackle these issues, even imperfectly, was a significant step for television in the 90s. It reflected the cultural shifts happening outside the Peach Pit, showing that the affluent streets of Beverly Hills weren't immune to the broader societal conversations about acceptance, understanding, and the freedom to be oneself. It's this blend of soapy drama and earnest social commentary that truly defines the "awfulawesome" legacy of Beverly Hills, 90210.