Nothing on TV Felt Like My So-Called Life

As a fan of television who has spent countless hours immersed in the lives of fictional characters, I must say that the creators of “My So-Called Life” have truly captured the essence of human struggle and growth in a way that resonates deeply with me. The characters’ journeys to discover their identities mirrors my own experiences as I navigated through my teenage years, trying to find myself while also attempting to emulate the adults around me.


Even though My So-Called Life is now twice as old as its protagonist Angela Chase, portrayed by Claire Danes at the time, it appears to have not aged a bit. This ABC drama, launched on August 25, 1994, brought us Angela, who was intelligent, self-aware, and plagued with anxiety. Just like every other character in the series, Angela was still evolving and growing. Her self-awareness of her flaws sometimes left her paralyzed, and she narrated the show’s events in a natural, stream-of-consciousness style, punctuated with words such as “like” and “or something”, which became frequent favorites.

In contrast to delving into Angela’s emotional landscape, the television series “My So-Called Life” was intentionally an ensemble production. Characters such as Ricky Vasquez, played by Wilson Cruz, and Jordan Catalano, portrayed by Jared Leto, from Angela’s high school circle, her parents Patty and Graham (played by Bess Armstrong and Tom Irwin), who were depicted as therapy-oriented baby boomers with intense disagreements, contributed to the show’s rich character development. The series offered a broad canvas to explore each character’s complexity. Although “My So-Called Life” had low ratings and ended after only 19 episodes, it left an indelible impact on teen dramas and television in general by demonstrating how to craft a diverse group of authentic characters across various age groups and life experiences, while ensuring equal attention was given to all. Creator Winnie Holzman recalls, “I was trying to capture that feeling where you believe you’re grown up, but at the same time you’re still figuring out, How do I be a grown up? Even at 40, people are still doing that.”

I vividly recall the unique sensation of watching the My So-Called Life pilot and being taken aback by its distinctiveness from other TV shows. Can you share some insights about the network’s feedback during its production?

“What were their main apprehensions? Despite not having extensive conversations, they often expressed doubts like ‘Who is it intended for?’ I used to wonder to myself, ‘Isn’t it for those who eventually appreciate it?’ They seemed puzzled about why they needed to know the target audience ahead of time. I never viewed it as a program solely for teenagers or adults; rather, I thought it could appeal to both. However, their concerns were that it didn’t seem like a show for either age group. They questioned its tone, describing it as ‘too serious’ or ‘dark.’ I found it astonishing that they considered our little production as having a dark or depressing vibe. I was confident that it wasn’t.”

During the heart of that particular season, there was something intriguing that caught my ear: I didn’t overhear any explicit praise from the network executives, but in hushed conversations, I learned that our preliminary edits of new episodes were eagerly anticipated by the younger staff members. They would rush to play these rough cuts, showing a keen interest in our upcoming episode. This enthusiasm was not lost on the higher-ups; they couldn’t have been oblivious to it. It seems this fervor might have given them insight into the show’s appeal.

Ultimately, I gotta give them credit. I don’t think another network at that time would have put us on the air. I’m very grateful they put the show on the air at all considering how much they worried about it. And I’m also grateful they basically let us do the show our way, which is why it came out the way we wanted it to. They did not interfere very much. And Marshall and Ed really protected me from their network notes. I’m not sure how many there were, but they basically ran interference for me. I barely spoke to the network that year, so I was just focused on writing.

Indeed, I’ve always appreciated ABC for being consistently supportive of innovative and bold television programs. As a matter of fact, my journey in TV writing began with being fortunate enough to work on the final two seasons of “thirtysomething,” another ABC production. And let’s not forget about “NYPD Blue” – just one example among many exceptional shows that ABC has championed over the years.

The show “My So-Called Life” stood out among teenage dramas by portraying every character as a fully realized individual, even the parents. My intention was to make them all as authentic and multidimensional as possible. You know how during high school many people adopt a certain persona, right? Not everyone, but quite a few. So I thought, What if the parents themselves are still grappling with their high school personas, questioning whether they need to hold onto them or if they should let go. In this way, while Angela and her peers were battling their own identity issues, the parents were also wrestling with questions like, Do I have to continue carrying my high school persona? I’m 40 now, can I break free?

At what age were you while working on My So-Called Life? Well, I was likely around 39 years old when I started writing it. By the time it aired, I had recently turned 40.

It seems as if it was penned by an extraordinarily gifted adolescent who skipped several grades in school. Overhearing one of the casting team members remark that one of the young performers had hesitantly asked, “Is Winnie a teenager?” was the best possible praise I could receive, as my primary concern was appearing insincere.

I’ve always pondered over the question of how one could craft teenagers who speak like their contemporaries during a specific era, rather than how they conversed when the writer was in high school. Initially, I assumed that the core essence of teenage life would remain largely unchanged, with only superficial differences arising. However, as I pondered over the characters in the show, I started to consider that a significant event might have served as a defining moment for their lives, similar to how the Vietnam War marked us during my high school years. For these fictional characters, I thought the AIDS crisis could be a possible equivalent: The fact that they were just becoming aware of this disease where sexual activity could lead to contraction, there was no cure for it, and it wasn’t confined only to gay people; straight individuals could also contract it through sex or other means.

In essence, I concluded that while superficial aspects evolve across generations, the core emotions, internal battles, and deep-seated desires remain relatively constant. We’re more alike than different, a thought I held onto as a source of reassurance, even if it was an illusion. It helped me avoid questioning my abilities every time I approached a script: “What do I know?” During my teenage years, immersed in acting and studying the craft, including Stanislavski’s method and sense memory, I placed faith in these techniques to help me revisit emotional moments from my past.

How did you manage to step into the mindset of a ’90s adolescent at a practical level? For instance, composing the phrases they might use?

In simpler terms, when I phoned you, I was seeking firsthand accounts from a journalist on specific experiences, as I was scripting a play named “Choice.” This play, which was eventually staged last spring, is a comedic exploration of abortion, delving deeper into the theme of a woman’s right to choose. To be precise, I needed to converse with an actual journalist like you. While none of our discussions were directly quoted in the play, speaking with you gave me reassurance that my portrayal and understanding of the subject matter seemed authentic.

1. In my quest to create a believable storyline for my play, I unearthed various elements that made it seem plausible, falling under the category of, “This could very well occur.”

There are so many lines that feel eavesdropped on. Another is, “It’s so weird when you see someone you just dreamed about.”  
Yeah! I did a whole episode where everybody’s reporting on what they dreamed, and I do love that line, because, I gotta say: Yes, it is really weird.

Speaking of the talented cast, Claire Danes and Jared Leto truly left an indelible mark, even working independently. They were a pleasure to write for, and I’ve managed to keep in touch with many from the cast. Beth Armstrong remains a dear friend, as does Mary Kay Place, who delivered an exceptional portrayal of Sharon’s mother Camille. Claire and I share a strong bond, and I recall during production, she had to juggle schoolwork with acting due to her young age. She often had French class or math tests, yet we made every moment on set count because our time with her was limited. The performance you see in the pilot is what she could accomplish at 14 years old.

Was there consensus that she was the ideal candidate, or did you encounter resistance due to her being relatively unknown? From the moment we first encountered her, it felt like, “She’s clearly the one.” However, the challenge then became convincing her parents, as they were from New York and moving them to Los Angeles would require a significant adjustment. It was a substantial undertaking.

Well, if I were to put it in my own words as a cinephile, here’s how I’d rephrase it:

Well, let me tell you, I had a character loosely inspired by some high school acquaintances. There was this one guy who caught my eye, though I never learned his name. We were lab partners once, and I remember being so nervous around him – I was quite shy back then. One day, he asked me if I was French, which struck me as peculiar. Maybe he thought I was different because I seemed unique to him? That’s the memory that popped up when Rayanne said to Jordan, “You know, she’s from France.” It’s amazing how memories like these can inspire characters in a show.

What a great character, Rayanne. She’s like a brassy dame from a 1940s movie.
I totally made her up. She’s so crazy, let’s face it! But she’s also, like, where you want to be.

“How come? The pilot clearly shows it: She creates trouble, she won’t give up easily, and she doesn’t hold back with her words. Yet that’s also thrilling because she’ll do things most people wouldn’t dare to do. If you’re looking for a friend who will help you change your life, experiment, and try on new identities like Angela did, Rayanne is the kind of friend you need: someone who will lead you to places you would never normally visit.”

What an exceptional ensemble! Claire was captivating, as was Jared. Devon Gummersall, portraying Brian Krakow, was equally fascinating, and so was Wilson Cruz. Tom Irwin delivered an outstanding performance as Graham, Claire’s father, and Beth gave a remarkable performance alongside him, playing Patty. Interestingly, many people had strong feelings against her character.

Why is it that Beth excelled at portraying a genuine mother, with moments of tension and anger? After all, an angry woman can be quite unsettling to American audiences. Even today, they find it hard to cope with such emotions. What made Beth stand out was her ability to convincingly play a complex character – someone who could be feisty, difficult, or in a bad mood. Essentially, she was able to embody a real person, and this is the feedback I kept receiving from the network.

How did you respond? 
I just ignored it. They kept saying to me, “She’s so unlikable.”

As a cinephile looking back on my teenage years, I can’t help but reflect on Wilson Cruz’s portrayal of Ricky Vasquez in My So-Called Life. Ricky, Angela and Rayanne’s gay friend, was incredibly open about his identity at a time when such characters were rarely seen on TV, let alone network shows. The authenticity of his character resonated deeply with me because I had similar experiences growing up. I had friends who were older, more experienced gay men who took me under their wing, teaching me the ropes and offering guidance in life, love, and everything in between. There was one boy at my school who embodied Ricky – he wasn’t exactly a friend of mine, but he would hang out with the girls, carrying on conversations that started elsewhere, even in our shared space. I guess you could say I was just too insignificant for him to notice, but the echoes of his presence still linger.

However, there’s an additional aspect to the character that struck me profoundly. After watching a documentary titled “Paris Is Burning“, I found myself deeply moved. The young men portrayed in this film were breathtakingly beautiful, full of vitality, and exuded an incredible life energy. They appeared to reverence beauty, which was the image I wanted Ricky to embody – someone radiating a strong life force and adoring beauty.

In a roundabout way, Ricky’s sexuality didn’t cross my mind as explicitly “gay” until later in the series. I preferred not to categorize him with a definitive label, such as “I’m gay.” Instead, I wanted his character to embody extreme femininity, which I see as a powerful form of defiance, regardless of gender. There’s an edge to femininity that feels dangerous somehow.

In the heart-wrenching episode “So-Called Angels,” Ricky finds himself without a home and is taken in by a teacher who happens to be gay and living with his partner. This episode stands out for me among others, including the pilot. It’s a poignant reminder of finding sanctuary when you have nowhere else to go, an experience that resonates deeply for many viewers, perhaps Ricky included.

The individual is expressing concern – quite passionately, I might add – over the character wearing excessive eyeliner. I can’t quite recall my specific mistake, but let me clarify it with a touch of speed. I said something like this: “Hear me out, you know Michael Jackson? He’s famous for his use of eyeliner, and he was a massive hit on your network during Oprah’s show. Moreover, there was a film this year, ‘The Crying Game,’ which features a transgender character in a leading role and garnered an Oscar nomination. This movie was widely accepted by the public. So, it seems that what you’re concerned about has already been accepted by the audience.”

Why did you opt for voice-over narration in the show? Well, when we initially discussed writing the pilot, I was quite apprehensive about simply writing it. I was finding it hard, I was scared, and I had no experience with TV scripts at that point, having just met Marshall and Ed. Then Ed suggested, “Don’t stress about writing the pilot right away. Just write some diary entries.” He was so insightful! So, I started writing diary entries and showed them to the team, who responded positively, saying, “This is fantastic! This is the show!” We then considered the possibility that Angela might keep a diary, but it morphed into something else. In the end, you didn’t see her physically writing in a journal or keeping a diary. Instead, it felt like you could just hear her thoughts, as if she were narrating them.

The storyline was influenced by the fact that I drew upon personal experiences to some extent. While not historically accurate, it carries a deep emotional resonance. At times, my thoughts were fragmented and incomplete, much like brief snippets or fragments.

You’ve hit the nail on the head. Each character seemed incomplete, as if they were still discovering themselves – their identities. It was a constant exploration for both the adults and the young ones alike. At 15, I thought I was so wise, yet I was also eager to experiment, to be more intriguing, and to explore what it meant to be grown-up. All while trying to figure out how to actually become one. It’s fascinating how even at 40, people continue this journey of self-discovery, isn’t it?

As a cinema enthusiast, I found myself captivated by the shared journey of both parents and youths in this film, a quest that resonated deeply: “Are we truly who we think we are?” Each character felt incomplete, a work still in progress because they were all seeking answers. They were all engaged in an exploration, striving to understand their true selves.

Marshall Herskovitz and Ed Zwick, My So-Called Life’s executive producers, also created
thirtysomething and Once and Again.

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2024-08-28 21:56