From the moment the theme song (the nonconformist "Little Boxes") begins, Weeds establishes the cattiness and boredom of the suburbs with sharp wit. Widowed Nancy (Mary-Louise Parker) is a pot-dealing mom who stops by her supplier's to re-up before driving her 10-year-old son to grief counseling. Rather than judge, you empathize with her plight and, like Tony Soprano or Vic Mackey, her character embodies a moral gray area that is all too human. I initially rolled my eyes in irritation when her suppliers turned out to be an African-American family. But Weeds took slick potshots at stereotypes, and even threw some current-events savvy into the mix as World.com found its way into the conversation at the weed-covered table. The pilot is packed with irony a teenage client/dealer warns Nancy in a mocking tone that "caffeine is a serious drug." Plus we get wonderfully frank discussion about sex, including the use of tennis balls in Bangkok's Red Light district! The sexual deviance of the neighborhood is also addressed in the form of closeted homosexuality, the extramarital affair of Celia's (Elizabeth Perkins) husband, and the excessive horniness of Nancy's teenage son. The show only becomes drama heavy when the issue of dealing to minors makes you stop giggling and start thinking seriously for a moment. And really, who wants to do that? The only flaw in this satire's first episode was the vast range of problems unveiled, making it a little like an overstuffed joint. But at least it was fat!
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