Picks and Pans Review: Thirty Something
updated 09/28/1987 AT 01:00 AM EDT
•originally published 09/28/1987 AT 01:00 AM EDT
Oh, no, they're breeding. The Y-people we saw in the likes of Jack and Mike and Hometown are having little y-babies in thirty something. The innocent infant in this series makes her parents' days longer, sex lives cooler and bank accounts smaller. Mom gets psychotic because she can't find the right babysitter for her special child—"Do all kids radiate light?" (A Year in the Life does a better and more credible job with that plot.) Dad the ad man prostitutes himself, stealing somebody else's campaign just because he has two mouths at home to feed. Mom can't go to lunch and Dad can't go backpacking when they please. Awwww. We're supposed to give these spoiled whiners sympathy. I say, give them scorn. The stars, Ken (Hill Street Blues) Olin and Mel Harris, are actually likable. It's the script that goes overboard with synthetic sincerity and trumped-up traumas. By piling on the Y-person stereotypes—the Volvo, the half-remodeled house and Boomer babble like "stress," "concept," and "dealing with"—thirty something insults the Ys it wants to attract and insults the rest of us by presuming we should care.