"I just like how he's always leaning"

On the enduring greatness of 'My So-Called Life'

“What's amazing is when you can feel your life going somewhere. Like your life just figured out how to get good. Like, that second.” —Angela Chase, My So-Called Life

The other night, I made an offhand reference to Jordan Catalano, the heartthrob on My So-Called Life portrayed by Jared Leto. Not only did he have quintessentially ’90s hair—not short, not long, but perfectly wavy—but he was a musician (in the awesomely titled band Frozen Embryos) and struck an irresistible balance of aloof and inviting. He exuded effortless cool, as My So-Called Life main character Angela Chase said: “I just like how he's always leaning. Against stuff. He leans great.”

My husband had absolutely no idea who I was talking about. Jordan Catalano who?

This prompted the following Facebook post:

“The generational difference in my marriage is best described by the fact my husband just had to Google who Jordan Catalano was.”

Judging by the number of comments from my friends, the post hit a nerve. These conversations reminded me of the show’s greatness.

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(me as a teenager at Disney World, wearing my Burning Airlines-purchased Smiths shirt)

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I watched My So-Called Life when MTV aired reruns in the 1990s, after the series was canceled by ABC. I related deeply to the show and its plotlines, as I was still around the same age as the characters. Their intense experiences closely resembled my own experiences as a teenager.

The fictional high school, which was full of normal-looking students as well as jocks, brains, and alterna-kids, might as well have been my bland suburban Ohio high school. (Except our school dances never played Urge Overkill.) I had some very painful friendship schisms that led to me taking a lot of solitary lunches, with only my Walkman for a companion. I also had my own Jordan Catalano: someone very cool who showed up in at least one of my classes every year, without fail. (I was far too shy to talk to him—I didn’t think I was remotely cool enough to be in his orbit—so I just snuck glances at him from afar.)  

And I was a nerdy, fastidious brain like Sharon who dreamt of being as fearless as Angela. The latter dyed her hair, bought a fake ID, snuck out of the house, saw bands at clubs—the kind of rebellion I didn’t have the guts (or car) to pull off. The best I could do is raid my parents’ closets for vintage clothes and wear tiny braids at the front of my hair just like Rayanne Graff.

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The response to my post prompted me to do a My So-Called Life rewatch. Set in a time before technology like the internet and cellphones changed communication, the show feels quaint—slow and luxurious, with characters allowed to wallow and revel in their emotions with real, genuine depth.

It’s amazing how well the show has held up. The music, of course, is perfect: Angela brooding in her bedroom while listening to the Cranberries “Dreams”; a Buffalo Tom concert where the band is playing the exquisite “Late at Night”; Juliana Hatfield portraying an angel; the storminess of Afghan Whigs, “Fountain and Fairfax.” The dialogue feels realistic—casual, inarticulate, low-key, painful—and the voiceovers add aching context to pivotal moments. (“Then everything started to seem perfect, for some reason. The feel of his shirt against my elbow. The fact that I still had an elbow.”)

Plot-wise, many situations are still very relatable nearly 30 years later, between the social issues (the fear of having a gun at school, LGBTQ-driving bullying, being unhoused) or emotional ones (pining for someone who may—or may not—like you back; feeling betrayed by other people; the disconcerting experience of aging; obsessing over every detail of every interaction). And the teenage characters are complicated: awkward, self-conscious, temperamental, and unpolished. They inhabit that chaotic liminal space of adolescence not with poise—but with uncertainty and angst.

Watching the show now was also illuminating, as it became clear that the adult characters were as fully realized as the teenage ones. Graham and Patty’s marriage is unsteady, bogged down by temptations and business responsibilities; they too struggle with how to communicate, how to connect, how to keep their relationship strong, how to keep ties to their younger selves.

And they’re complicated too! At one point, Graham worries about Angela’s emotional distance while also lamenting not being able to go to a Grateful Dead concert, while Patty tries to navigate a rocky relationship with her own father. The parallels between the braided adult and teenage storylines are obvious—but My So-Called Life trusts that viewers are smart enough to see these similarities without directly spelling them out.

You have to let her push you away and not punish her for it. All she's doing is pushing you off your pedestal, and she's right to do that, she has to do it. She's right on schedule...she's not a thousand years late, like I am. — Patty

That subtlety also lets us project our own experiences onto the characters. But you don’t have to have a hopeless crush (or a crumbling marriage) to find meaning in the show; every single character is inherently flawed and imperfect. And My So-Called Life showed that reaching adulthood didn’t mean you suddenly had everything figured out. The issues and challenges we face as teenagers only morph and evolve into different struggles as we grow up.