For many of us fall-lovers, Gilmore Girls is an ultimate comfort show. I remember being obsessed with it in middle school, and, more recently, I have taken up the tradition of re-watching the show every year in the fall. This may seem a little obsessive, but if you’ve watched and undertaken it like I have, I’m sure you can understand where I’m coming from. With funny, well-cultured, loveable characters like Lorelai and Rory Gilmore, Sookie St. James, and even the occasionally grumpy Luke Danes, the show is easy to fall in love with.
However, the primarily humorous and uplifting nature of the show tends to leave us with blind spots when it comes to some of its less appealing aspects. With each rewatch, I noticed more and more details that didn’t sit quite right with me. For one, the dappling of not-so-subtle intolerant remarks made by several characters throughout the show. This ranges from Rory body shaming the ballerina with the “roll of fat around the bra strap” to Lorelai joking that she and Luke would both need sex change operations so that they could “kiss and not look funny.” Whether it be the near-non-existence of LGBT characters or the extremely stereotyped representation of some of the only non-white characters, Lane and Mrs. Kim, there are countless instances of ignorance that didn’t jive so well with me while watching Gilmore Girls in my more mature age.
This is just scratching the surface of the many little bones I have to pick with this favored TV show. Another qualm that I know many fans have is the development of Rory’s character throughout the show. In the pilot episode, Alexis Bledel—who plays Rory—gives a nearly perfect performance of the sweet, innocent and smart 16-year-old girl. Throughout the first few seasons, fans admire Rory for her intellect and good-naturedness. She has excellent taste in books and music, an adorable relationship with her mother and is an academic prodigy. These defining features are a key part of what makes her character so immediately recognizable and loveable. But throughout the series, Rory leans further and further towards the “dark side.” She begins to lean more on her grandparents’ money, fall in with the rich private-school-kid crowd, stray from her mother and abandon some of her charming naivete. Perhaps this is just the nature of life—to drift away from your childlike morality the more you age. But in Rory’s case, fans wanted to see her maintain her youthful care and wonder throughout the entire series. I’m still on the fence about it.
And all of this is not even to mention the highly controversial Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life. This sequel series takes place 10 years after the end of the first show and is an—ultimately failed—attempt to bring back the nostalgic adoration that fans felt for this beloved series. The newer series simply does not end up packing the same punch that the original does, and the sight of the older characters elicits more of a sense of weariness than one of nostalgia. Rory is no longer the sweet little girl everyone loved to fawn over but is instead an unemployed thirty-something-year-old with no permanent address. It’s a little depressing, to say the least.
As much as I’ve picked this series to pieces, it remains one of my favorite TV shows. And while I may not always continue my tradition of watching it once a year, it will always hold a special place in my heart. So to answer the question, “To Binge or Not to Binge?” I say yes, but mindfully. After all, oftentimes the things we love the most are the things we are least adept at criticizing; even when constructive criticism may be precisely what we need.