HBO's Tell Me You Love Me

Imagine your romantic life on display, with all of its quirks and nuances being scrutinized by an unforgiving audience. Your sex life becomes fodder for talk-show conversation. Your fledgling intimacies are understood by many and scorned by others. We often hear that "real life" is quite different from what is portrayed through fiction. Yet what if fiction starts to take on characteristics of real life? What if a television drama could capture the insecurities, triumphs, failures, and secrets typically associated with modern relationships? HBO's new dramatic series, Tell Me You Love Me, allows viewers a glimpse into the lives of four couples who struggle with some of the same difficulties plaguing "real life" relationships. Featuring characters who represent different age groups (20's, 30's, 40's, and 60's), Tell Me You Love Me repositions its viewers into a voyeuristic role in which we can find connections between our lives and those depicted in the episodes. With its graphic sexual content and often depressing plots, Tell Me You Love Me evokes the same response that we may feel while driving past an auto accident--we slow down to take a look at the damage, then move on gratefully. Yet this series suggests that we may not be able to "drive past" the damage in our own lives so easily, and even if we refuse to confront it, it may stagnate there and ruin our relationships.

On the surface, Tell Me You Love Me is a show about therapy, sexuality, intimacy, and relationships. Its realistic approach to these issues has already generated much praise and criticism after only two aired episodes. Many viewers empathize with the characters' struggles on the show; in fact, at the conclusion of the second episode, "real" couples were featured discussing how they could relate to the characters' obstacles and difficulties. Because characters on the show will eventually end up in couples' therapy with Dr. May Foster (played by Jane Alexander), the "real" couples who shared feedback at the conclusion of the second show seem presented as though they are seated on a therapist's couch. Perhaps this is a marketing ploy to strengthen the validity of the series; yet, Tell Me You Love Me is unapologetic about its creative vision. Executive Producer Cynthia Mort explains, " It's somewhat voyeuristic, and that will make some people uncomfortable -- it made me uncomfortable watching at times. But I didn't want to turn away. And even if I did want to turn away, I wanted to come back." (http://www.hbo.com/tellme/episode/)

Viewers will discover that a sexual act can convey--or conceal--much more than anticipated. Each couple has intimacy issues that manifest in their sexual lives. Hugo (Luke Farrell Kirby) and Jamie (Michelle Borth), a newly-betrothed couple in their twenties, engage in sexual activity often, as one would expect from younger people in love. Yet when Hugo reveals that he doubts the efficacy of a monogamous marriage, Jamie becomes insecure and calls off their engagement. Sex, for this couple, is a metaphorical bandage. When used, it adheres over a sore wound (Jamie's loss of trust in Hugo; Hugo's fear of commitment to one woman) but will eventually wear off, revealing the once-disguised injuries. Jamie and Hugo fall into a predictable sexual pattern--she questions his fidelity (asking if he's flirted with a waitress, for example), he assures Jamie that he loves her, and they have sex. Clearly, this behavior is one to which many viewers can relate. How often do we turn to intimacy for validation? Watching this young couple navigate the monogamy minefield is interesting, if not depressing, because while audiences find the "true love" theme to be predictable, many prefer it over the more realistic possibility that a partner cannot, or will not, remain faithful for life.

Carolyn (Sonya Walger) and Palek (Adam Scott) are both in their thirties. A childless couple living in a modern, sleek home, they have been trying to conceive a child for the past year--to no avail. As a result, Carolyn's bitterness has brewed to a point where it simmers beneath the surface. Palek feels objectified in a way that is often associated with a feminine role--he is relegated to a stud horse who cannot seem to fulfill this duty. In fact, Carolyn undergoes tests to determine if she is the cause for the infertility. When the results return and she discovers that the problems are not hers, she refrains from telling Palek until it is revealed after a therapy session. Her "secret" is revealed when she feels betrayed by Palek--his honest admission in therapy, that he is tired of having sex simply to attempt procreation. Yet this couple engages in sex quite frequently--during a dinner party, for example. In one interesting scene, Carolyn pleasures Palek with her hand as they are watching TV. She observes intently as he finds his release--when she regards Palek's semen, she says nothing--yet the audience can speculate about what she is thinking. There is a lot of power in what is NOT said in this series. Things left unsaid are often more provocative than what is stated.

David (Tim DeKay) and Katie (Ally Walker) are married, in their forties, and have two children--they seem to have that quintessential suburban relationship that could be the envy of the neighbors. Dad is a baseball coach, Mom keeps up the house and cooks dinner every night. Yet they haven't had sex for almost a year. The last time this couple was intimate was on their anniversary--how sad that the stereotype could prove to be accurate for a couple like this one. When Katie inadvertently discovers David pleasuring himself on a mundane Saturday morning, she meekly voices her concern about their lack of sexual contact. David feels that they have a healthy relationship in spite of the intimacy problem. Katie is obviously distraught, but it is not clear if she is upset because she thinks she is supposed to be having sex (as opposed to actually feeling sexual desire for her husband). Katie decides to attend couples' therapy alone, which, according to Dr. Foster, is more prevalent than Katie may have believed. Of course, David feels threatened by his wife's sudden sense of independence. He undervalues the experience and refuses to go to therapy with Katie. This rift in the relationship, as well as their "we are cordial roommates" vibe, comes across extraordinarily depressing at times. Without communication, relationships can become quite stale. It appears as if this couple waited too long to communicate about how their intimacy has decayed over time. Viewers are quite vocal on the HBO bulletin board about this particular couple, even blaming Katie for her husband's lack of sexual interest. Katie's bedtime attire (old t-shirts, button-down oxfords) is the target of abuse. Is this really what happens--does a partner lose interest because another partner doesn't put in the effort to be "sexy?" This is just one of the questions that can be sparked while watching this television show.

Tell Me You Love Me is not a comfortable show to watch--in fact, it can be very depressing at times. While the characters have not given up on love (they are all still struggling forward, and attempting to reinvent themselves in therapy), they are in such obvious stages of dysfunction that to speculate is this what will happen? becomes frightening. The nudity on the show, which has been discussed quite a bit in the media, is not gratuitous, nor is it "sexy" in any conventional sense. It features male and female nudity, but the actors are not on display simply to be naked. They are simulating intimate, sexual moments that drive the plot forward. Some viewers may find the scenes too graphic; Dr. May's oral sex with her husband, Arthur, is something rarely seen on television, because the characters are in their sixties. While this may prove for some to be cringe-worthy, it certainly generates conversation. As with any provocative media moment, Tell Me You Love Me inspires commentary and criticism. It appears to be a show that viewers either love or hate-or are unsure if they love or hate it. It is precisely that ambiguity that makes the show interesting, even if you find it unappealing. The actors do an incredible job of portraying vulnerabilities and frustrations without their pathos becoming too overdramatic. Yet Tell Me You Love Me is not the equivalent of "easy-listening" radio; the series forces viewers to reflect on their own lives through observing the couples' personal disquiet. It is hard not to personalize one's viewing of the series. Even if you do not find any similarities between your life and Carolyn's desperation for a baby, David's lackluster desire, Hugo's fear of the future, or Arthur's dream of spending his retirement with his beloved wife, Tell Me You Love Me may inspire you to embrace what you do value in your own relationship.

Although the series has been critiqued for portraying Caucasian, straight characters instead of a cross-section of relationships and races, Tell Me You Love Me may be able to transcend racial issues and gender preference. Regardless of the specific relationship dynamic that we enjoy, we all struggle with human fears, longings, loneliness, and happiness. It would be nice, though, to see if the series evolves beyond its projected ten episodes and introduces characters with some more variety. Until then, Tell Me You Love Me will surely continue to arouse conversation and controversy with its novel approach to storytelling.

Tune in to see Tell Me You Love Me on Sunday evenings at 9PM (EST) on HBO.