On a campus notorious for being unrepresentative of the real world, it seems appropriate that the television show with the fastest growing number of student fans is "The OC," which offers perhaps an even more fantastical depiction of privileged teen life than our own lovely "orange bubble."
Like its wrong-side-of the tracks star Ryan (Benjamin McKenzie), "The OC" came from inauspicious roots. It started in August 2003 as midsummer entertainment (which typically dies off after fall season premieres), and was the creation of 27-year-old Josh Schwartz, who had never before written or produced a TV show. How "The OC" managed to translate these humble beginnings into ratings success, magazine covers, Neutrogena contracts and a (gasp) Paris Hilton guest appearance after only 22 episodes is what we're all still trying to understand.
Since I am not a regular "OC" viewer, I approached this piece with the lofty goal of trying to be like an anthropologist researching a foreign culture. Having seen only approximately an episode and a half, I wanted to understand "The OC" phenomenon through its general hype, its fans and its "official" drinking game.
It quickly became clear to me that "The OC" has a strange power over Princeton students. I sent emails during the peak of midterm stress tentatively requesting interviews and quickly received only enthusiastic "I'm always happy to talk about the OC!" replies followed by multiple suggestions for meeting times.
Of course, figuring out the show's plotline could make studying for midterms seem almost easy. As far as I can understand, it's about a bunch of angst-ridden but clear-skinned teenagers and their unnaturally youthful parents who all live in the blissful high-society luxury of Newport Beach (the posh part of Orange County). The entrance of Ryan from Chino — the Inland Empire, God forbid — causes massive uproar and (forgive the reductive nature of this statement), apparently inspires the whole cast to start sleeping with each other.
Although Hilary Robinson '07 concedes that the show "makes no sense," she's not ashamed of being a fan.
"The acting is horrendous, but the hours are packed with drama . . . it's so not real that it becomes addicting," she said.
Princeton is a hotspot for cultivating an addiction. Caitlin Horn '07 never watched "The OC" before coming here, but she is now a regular viewer of what she terms "the soap opera for our generation." She said "it becomes a social thing," as, all over campus, students gather together Wednesdays at 9 p.m. to watch the latest installment and, sometimes, also participate in some old-fashioned drinking game fun.
The rules, taken from The Edge City Chronicle website (chron.edgecity.net), seem to sum up the show nicely. Some more popular "justifications" for drinking include the sylphlike Marissa (Mischa Barton) wearing a miniskirt, luxury cars seen on screen, prescription and/or hard drug abuse, "two-timing and other sluttiness," characters losing their virginity, "someone wearing a bikini at a party," and one or more characters getting in a fight. "The OC" sounds more than vaguely reminiscent of "Beverly Hills 90210," another show about privileged southern California youth.
Ian McHenry '05, a self-described "flaming 'OC' fan," vehemently denied the "90210" comparison. He said the show is really about Ryan and Seth (Adam Brody) changing Newport Beach high society and added that it really "makes fun of that lifestyle." Although he admitted that "it's not good TV," he maintained, "there's always something to learn from 'The OC.'"
While "The OC" is popular with males and females, McHenry is one of its few vocal male fans.
Robinson said, "Boys claim they're fans because they think Marissa's hot, but it's just a cover; they're all addicted, too."

Addiction seems to be one of the key phrases fans offer as an explanation for watching "The OC." Annie Preis '07 said she "felt guilty" watching the show and decided to counteract its addictiveness by quitting the show cold turkey.
Most fans do succumb to "The OC" appeal, but quickly add that they are aware it's not quality television. Nevertheless they can't help watching.
As my interviewees continued talking, their actual affection for the characters became evident. Seth, the cutest nerd around, is everyone's favorite. McHenry celebrated the fact that "the emo/indie kid is the hero."
Robinson said, "Seth is every girl's favorite character."
"They're not realistic characters, but we can still relate to them," Horn added.
"The OC" seems to have mastered the difficult balance of putting likeable and compelling characters into unrealistically lavish and melodramatic lifestyles and making us want to keep watching. While Preis doesn't regret her decision to quit "The OC," she was sad "because [she] missed the episode with the sex, guns, etc." I hate to admit it, but now, so am I.