Maybe it was the splashing marketing campaign. Maybe it was my own desire to see a chick lit in all its frothy glory on the small screen. Whatever it was, my expectations were sky high and maybe that’s why The Starter Wife fell so flat. Everything (and everyone) is quite pretty, but it’s as devoid of substance as heroine Molly’s Hollywood life. Maybe that’s the point, but I doubt it.Was I supposed to buy the description of how Molly and her sleazebag husband got together? Cause I didn’t. Was I supposed to be surprised when Cricket’s douchebag husband strayed? Cause I wasn’t. Was I supposed to change the channel when Surfer Dude looked frightened of his own fists of fury? Cause I did.
Speaking of surprises, I thought Army Wives would be a guilty pleasure, something melodramatic and silly to watch during the summer. I was so wrong. It’s an honest-to-goodness compelling drama. Right off the bat, I loved all the women and their (mostly) supportive spouses. Initial favorite storyline: Roxy and Trevor. What can I say? I love firecrackers and the men who ground them. Trevor in a hoodie cradling his new step son in the clinic? Adorable.
And although Catherine Bell doesn’t look near old enough to have a teenage son, I’m really intrigued by her storyline. The only thing scarier than marrying your abuser is raising him, and I’m really interested to see how the tragic story will play out. My guess is that West Point ain’t happening.
Long story short: Will I be watching Army Wives this week? Yes. The Starter Wife? Maybe.
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