It scares me to realize how long I’ve been watching All My Children. I started watching in the late eighties and with a few exceptions have been watching ever since. Over the years, I’ve jettisoned other soaps because they were too extreme , the writing started going to hell, or they just went off the air, but throughout it all, there was always AMC.
The headwriter on AMC is one Megan McTavish. I didn’t care for her work too much the last go around, and I positively abhor it now. It’s not uncommon for soap characters to be subjected to a whole array of sturm and drang, but with Megan McTrash (as the message boards term her) there’s usually at least one woman who gets singled out for rape, vigilantism, and in general a lot of abuse. Not too fun to watch.
She’s created a couple of skanky characters, trashy women with supposed hearts of gold. Despite having them engage in such audience-endearing actions like baby stealing, kidnapping, etc., we’re apparently supposed to identify with and like them. I don’t have anything against the actresses.
They seem competent enough. It’s the fact that my soap, my favorite soap, is fluffing these characters to death. They don’t write them in a way that makes them likeable figures. They keep having other characters remark on how wonderful these two women are. It’s very Orwellian. Other long time strong characters have turned into travesties of themselves. There’s little continuity. There’s not much keeping me interested or tuned in.
So for the first time in sixteen years, I’m considering giving up All My Children. This would have been unthinkable for me once, but now . . . it’s not a difficult decision, it’s just a sad one.