The constant struggle of being a pop culture writer and critic is that you always feel like you’re falling behind with the current trends. No matter how actively you try to keep up with the ceaseless tides of new films, shows, books, and #content, you’ll never get to the top of the pile. One way to get away from this stress is to indulge in stuff that isn’t fighting for attention among the trending topics, the kinds of entertainment that’s now nostalgic or outright ignored by the masses. This is a long-winded way of me explaining that I’ve been binge-watching Beauty and the Beast and I need to talk about it with someone.
I love romance novels, I love monster-f*cking stories, and I love urban fantasies and fairy-tale retellings. Frankly, it’s a miracle that I, a woman raised on the Brothers Grimm, The 10th Kingdom, and fanfiction.net, haven’t watched this series several times through already. Blessed be to YouTube for rectifying this grievous personal error.
Beauty and the Beast was a primetime soap opera paranormal romance that aired on CBS from 1987 to 1990. This update of the classic fairy tale starred Ron Perlman and Linda Hamilton and included the likes of George R.R. Martin in its writer’s room. Hamilton played Catherine, a socialite who survived a brutal street attacked intended for someone else. She was saved from certain death by Vincent, a lion-esque beast-man who lives underground in a hidden society of outcasts who have created a sanctuary free from the dangers of the outside world. Catherine and Vincent find themselves connected by something far greater than love or friendship, and as she becomes a badass lawyer in the district attorney’s office determined to fight injustice, Vincent is always watching over her.
This is the sort of show that was glibly but not inaccurately thought of as ‘lady porn.’ It’s so agonizingly feminine in its gaze and intent, all soft focuses and billowing yet tastefully draped nightgowns, that you’re almost shocked to find out that men created and developed it. This is pure romance of the ’80s kind, the era when the romance novel emerged as a dominant genre in publishing and became notorious for covers featuring Fabio’s pecs in close proximity to some heaving bosoms. Old-school romance of this time was full of alpha men for whom ‘no’ meant ‘yes’ and heroines who fainted at the mere thought of conflict. Those influences are evident in Beauty and the Beast but Vincent is no d*ck-strutting brute. He’s sensitive, artistic, and constantly contemplating his lot in life. He reads Dickens to Catherine while she’s recuperating! He’ll claw open some creep’s face for her! Men, step up your game.
You can see how Perlman would be influenced by his work here in a later performance as a hot monster who women want to bone: Hellboy. Sure, Red was cockier than Vincent and preferred Barry Manilow to Great Expectations but both characters have this innate dignity that Perlman infuses them with. Their humanity is undeniable to those willing to pay attention. It’s through sheer force of his commitment that Vincent remains so appealing, even when he’s being, let’s be honest, a bit of a creep.
Linda Hamilton is sort of not-good in this show? Bless her because Sarah Connor would beat me down for even saying it, but it’s true. In fairness to her, she’s in a soap opera and has to contend with tooth-rottingly earnest dialogue and lots of scenes of her gazing over her amazing New York apartment balcony while she thinks about her hot lion not-boyfriend. She does have believably chemistry with Perlman, however. You totally buy that this sensible, privileged but troubled woman would be ready to pack her bags and live in the catacombs. Plus she’s not treated exclusively as the ‘beauty.’ She’s capable, driven, and has a strong moral core amid the rich people ignorance and scheming crooks of the upper world.
Beauty and the Beast has the feel of an ’80s soap opera crossed with a syndicated adventure show and a crime procedural. In the pilot, she survives a brutal attack that leaves her scarred, but after some fantastical cosmetic surgery, she goes back to looking like Linda Hamilton. She then decides to learn self-defence and dedicate her work to supporting the downtrodden and underprivileged of New York City. So we get this blend of diluted Law & Order investigations and non-kinky Clive Barker-esque drama involving the ‘monsters’ of the underground. A lot of these issues are pretty basic, and usually it falls on Vincent to deal with it all. The poor guy can’t even plan a holiday with his not-girlfriend because this community would fall apart in one day without him.
It all makes for a highly watchable show, one that makes me oddly nostalgic for a time in pop culture I was never alive to experience the first time around. But, as a series of its time, Beauty and the Beast is also kind of aggravating. Why? Because they do not let Vincent and Catherine f*ck! They don’t even let them kiss. They finally lock lips, sort of, in a scene that is so hilariously edited and shot to conceal the moment that you’d think they were trying to hide something truly pornographic. This is clearly a romance but the network seemed reluctant to have it be committed as such, even though all their viewers wanted it. The show savvily never had Vincent turn human but one wonders if that also prevented them from bringing true heat to the relationship. Was it too spicy for network audiences in a pre-prestige TV age?
All of this, and the absolute shark-jumping late-series plot shift made to accommodate a change in cast, makes Beauty and the Beast a full-on throwback experience. You’d never get a show like this on air (yes, I know there was a CW remake but come on.) Any attempts to do this now might be nervy enough to make it explicitly sexual but the procedural elements would probably be dropped and the tone would be bleaker. I also don’t think it would be so thoroughly feminine in its approach. It would try to be too much but not in a fun way. It’s the Surf Dracula problem. Still, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed delving into something this unashamedly soapy, silly, and romantic. If Peak TV cannot give us what we need, we must return to the past. But seriously, they should have f*cked.
