The O.C.
OK, I didn't think I missed the gang this summer since I had the DVD box sets, the repeats, the 120 soundtracks and Laguna Beach to keep me company. Not to mention a growing disdain for Adam Brody's too-hip-to-be-squareness. But amen that they're back! Really, how nice to see everyone. Even Trey. Of course, coming out of that coma to accuse Ryan and his massive biceps of shooting him was a tad unfortunate. I don't care if the back-to-bitchy Julie did bribe him into betraying his bro to protect Marissa; you'd think the guy wouldn't be flipping karma the bird so soon after a near-death experience, right? And shame on Jimmy for not stopping her! Fortunately, Coop and Summer's candy-striper scheme worked, the truth came out and Scruffy McRapist hopped on the next bus to guest-star-ville. Now the kids can have some fun, watch Teen Wolf, go sailing or, you know, frolic on the beach like their postcard-y montage that had me waiting for Danny Zuko and Sandy to pop up accompanied by the strains of "Love Is a Many-Splendored Thing." Speaking of Grease, how slimy is Jeri Ryan's character? Cozying up to Kiki at rehab, pulling that whole "My rich dad made me drink, too" routine. Please, you see that girl's eyes? Crazy with a capital whacko. Bet ya anything she's after her money, her man or — hold onto your Sappho statues — Hot Mommy Cohen herself. Only time will tell, but I'll tell you something: If Mr. Josh Schwartz keeps this up all season, I may forgive him for offing Caleb, writing out Anna and inflicting Zzzzzach on us all last season. Jess the coke whore, however, is gonna take a serious Chrismukkah miracle. So get crackin', buddy.