“It was a S**tshow” is easily one of the most popular cxg songs. It has 2.4 million views on
youtube, and 3 million listens on spotify. It encompasses some of the best qualities of the
show’s songwriting: it’s witty, subversive, sad and catchy. But in addition to that, it’s also a
perfect thesis for the show, and foreshadows some of the biggest breakthroughs to come.
The song is a fundamental undoing of the kinds of thinking that have brought Rebecca to where
she is: in west covina, in the middle of a turgid, melodramatic love triangle.
Until now, she’s plotted out her life according to the familiar, reassuring templates of her favorite
stories. The quirky romantic lead, fielding fate and funny mishaps on her search for love.
And just when she thinks she’s found it, her entire worldview gets flipped on its head.
When you’ve conceived your life as a carefully directed movie,
what happens when your lead walks off set? [slash leaves the state ha ha ha]
HOW DO “RECOGNIZABLE POP CULTURE GENRES” SAY THINGS WILL GO?
Among Rebecca’s favorite things are 2 and a half star movies, musicals, and the movie
Slumbered. They’re not just her favorite things, but models for how she thinks life
ought to go. And her favored models are characterized by drama, grand gestures,
and climactic moments. Specifically when it comes to love.
Love and Rebecca are a complicated duo. It’s something she feels perpetually starved of,
chasing it to fill what seems like a bottomless well. That is what Rebecca
needs–to be loved loudly, dramatically, so she can have no doubt in her mind that it’s real.
The fictional love she idolizes is as loud and desperate as her. Which works for the purposes of
the genre; musical theater is dramatic by nature, and creates climaxes to justify the presence of a
song [the usual “when the emotions are so high you have to sing” quote blah blah] Angst and
drama exist in stories, because they’re meant to entertain;
high peaks and low valleys make for a fun rollercoaster.
This is how Rebecca sees the world: everything is heightened. Which isn’t inherently a bad
thing. In many ways, this can make life especially beautiful, to intensely feel its
highs and lows. The problem is being tethered almost exclusively to those highs and lows.
Since moving to West Covina, Rebecca has been waiting for–or,
more accurately, engineering–her climactic moment.
And it’s when she first gets it, at the end of season one,
that it’s most apparent how flawed this pursuit is.
Rebecca’s moved on from Josh, and confessed her serious feelings to Greg. This is huge.
For a moment, it seems as though she’s let go of the fantasy,
moving towards something more grounded [greg i like you speech]. But as it
sometimes goes, Greg’s own fears get the better of him, and she’s alone.
But as if it’s meant to be, Valencia breaks up with Josh at just the right moment. And there
it is! [it’s the song camp rock] Rebecca’s favorite saccharine, generic love song is
diegetic–which she takes as confirmation that not only was her pursuit
of Josh “not crazy,” it’s right. Underscored by Disney princess Lea Salonga herself, in a disaster
of a night, this is how the story goes. In one indescribable instant, the whole world falls away.
But this is anything but a perfect moment, and it’s clear why.
Firstly: This moment comes at the cost of Greg and Valencia: two real people,
not props to further Josh and Rebecca’s delusion. The two of them jumping into each
other’s arms minutes after being dumped might be a sign of some underlying issues to address.
There’s also the implications of the song itself as it reflects Rebecca’s beliefs: that frames
romance as the culmination of “one indescribable instant.” A moment suspended in time,
without substance–which is fundamentally flawed way to perceive love, connection–or
really, any significant life event. ] And most of all: there’s a crucial piece missing.
Despite what the song says [“the only words you’ll need are ‘I love you”] significantly
and for good reason, she doesn’t get an "I love you.”
So–understandably desperate for her story to get back on track–Rebecca begins season 2 begging and
scraping, to find reasons Josh must love her. But the relationship that grew out of a magical
moment in season 1 has fragile legs to stand on. And so she turns, once again,
to two and a half star movies [quote] for an answer. And they give her one. Of course,
how could she have missed it? It’s Greg–the other, unlikely guy who’s been there all along!
With the confidence of someone who’s seen the whole script,
she posits this, too, as though it’s inevitable. WHAT’S GREG’S ROLE?
[“Think about how this story has played out. So I move to West Covina, in love with someone else,
and he's the sarcastic, messed up bartender that calls me out on my stuff,
and I ignore him, but we have undeniable chemistry. And now Josh and I break up...
and it's about me and Greg” s2x03 rebecca to akopian]
The way she casts Greg in her narrative is dysfunctional at the outset. He’s the
underdog–which is just a nicer way of saying “second choice.” When she refers
to Greg in the episode titles, it’s not even by name–it’s “Josh’s friend.”
Which highlights the big problem. By conceiving of Greg as the underdog,
she turns the norms of their relationship–back and forth,
disregard, heartbreak– into a cute trope. Even more enticingly, it allows her to absolve herself
of responsibility. Greg is a person, who’s been hurt by Rebecca’s indifference and indecision.
Her reliance on stories to tell her what to do is a symptom of this indecision.
She looks for direction outward,
because she’s too scared–or doesn’t know how–to ask herself what she actually wants.
This boils down to a lack of self trust, which consequently, makes it hard to trust her.
In her supposed revelation about Greg, Rebecca’s just swapped one fantasy for
another. She’s thrown by him leaving. How could he, just when she’s realized he’s the
one? But no worries–she’s seen this film before [exile joke]. She just has to run and stop him.
She makes the mad dash to the airport, and arrives in the nick of time. Perfectly on script.
Except it’s not at all.
According to Rebecca’s last model for romance, “the only words you’ll need are I love you.'' I
love you is an endpoint, a culmination.
But when she finally hears those words–from Greg,
no less–there is, actually, quite a lot more to say.
THE PERFECT ANTICLIMAX
If Rebecca's chosen ‘recognizable pop culture genres’ are predicated on climaxes,
“shitshow” subverts them all as the ultimate anticlimax.
The song doesn't end with an I love you and a kiss. It begins with an i love you,
and ends with a wordless goodbye. Greg turns away, denying the song its last note,
letting it taper off instrumentally. The last line remains unsaid; the final rhyme is left hanging.
The I Love You
“I love you yes”
This is what it’s all been about. [Rebecca's reprise and Josh will love me and x will love me]
Even during their perfect moment, she couldn’t get those words from Josh.
But now, this thing that Rebecca has craved, engineered, and idolized so
much is just a plain statement. It's the first line of the song.
“Of course I love you.”
Greg does what she hasn't been able to do–and
won't be able for a while–acknowledge multiple contrasting things at once.
“Of course I love you, and this thing we had was a hot mess,
and I still have to leave. Of course I have to leave, and I still love you.”
And these are just posed as these equal, self evident truths.
The song is a study of dissonance. In typical cxg fashion, the lyrics and the
music are saying two different things. Sweeping strings, and a blunt, decisively unromanticized
perspective on a relationship. Furthermore, this is just a ballad – not a parody or an
homage. There are no costumes, no dance number. Because there’s nothing to reference here.
Rebecca can’t categorize something that takes her this much by surprise.
The kind of balanced thinking that Greg uses is Rebecca’s Achilles heel. For her,
things have to be simpler: people who love you can’t leave, and people who leave can’t
have loved you. Which tracks with her later response to his departure [“i hope he dies.”]
If she can’t love him, she must hate him.
Because she has no model to understand why Greg is doing what he’s doing–that
someone can love her and not choose her. That these things can coexist.
Rebecca arrived with a false ultimatum in her mind: that she just has to catch up,
and stop him–and then, Greg will stay. But the song ends with the
same anticlimax it began with. She does make it. And he does leave.
WHICH MAKES “SHITSHOW” AN INVERSION OF REBECCA’S INCITING INCIDENT
Rebecca ends up in West Covina by anchoring herself to another person,
with no other ambitions but him. Greg’s ex begs him to stay for her,
and despite wanting to, Greg follows his ambitions out of West Covina.
In West Covina’s petri dish of emotionally immature people, Greg is the first of those
to get out and stay out. Despite the fact that the timing of this exit had to do with
Santino’s schedule, the decision is still in character, and in line with the story.
Rebecca upended her life to choose someone wrong for her.
Greg chooses himself. Something Rebecca will struggle with for a long, long time.
Which is WILD.
Because for how selfish so many of her actions are, they’re also completely opposed to Rebecca's
actual wellbeing and authenticity. She constantly disregards her needs and modifies her personality
in order to be chosen by Josh, and by others. In order to fulfill her expectations, she pretends
to like things she doesn't, changes her sense of humor, values, and ambitions.
Puts her friendships, her work, and her dignity in jeopardy–and for what?
Because Josh made her feel like [glitter was exploding inside me]?
For a good portion of the show, Rebecca is driven by impulse and instant gratification. She was
chasing Josh but really, was chasing a feeling: the excitement of being in some grand love story,
at the whims of its highs and lows like chemical hits. Josh is just a vehicle, a character–who she
has to fix in post [heehee] to fit him into the story. [“josh chan isn’t a human being”]
But in this song, Greg sidesteps this dangerous tendency:
to romanticize things based on how they feel.
[moments in the woods] When this season makes explicit the addictive nature of this behavior
by paralleling her and Greg, it positions him to be the perfect person to understand
her desperation. [glitter exploding]. Whether it’s alcohol, or chaotic relationships [both
of them saying glitter]–they don’t consider the long-term effects, but how it feels in the moment.
Hence why it’s huge that here, ambushed at an airport–Greg does something else.
He acknowledges what he viscerally wants, and still, is able to choose something better.
And it’s in fact, her enthusiasm for the idea that lets him know it’s the
wrong one. [“and when you say that i should stay that’s exactly when i should split”]
People can end up in serendipitous situations, create meaningful moments,
and still not be a good fit for a healthy relationship. Even more so:
people can feel a powerful connection, want each other, and still, not be the right choice.
At least, maybe not right now.
And Greg avoids Rebecca’s other tendency: to demonize things once they don’t go her way.
Because the song isn’t just a roast. No, that’d be too easy. If Greg just
says “hey, you suck, I’m leaving,” that she could at least rationalize. [silas leaving].
Instead, he also acknowledges his feelings without reservations. Even this shitshow was special to
him. The song neither glorifies or vilifies the relationship–it just calls it what it is.
In fact, this does end up being more nuance than Rebecca can handle. Once she’s back home,
she quickly compartmentalizes their conversation [“he called our relationship feces”]
But at this point, she’s heard it. Greg intimately understands some of Rebecca’s worst tendencies,
and refutes them point by point over the course
of a 3 and a half minute song. She’s seen what’s possible–and so have we.
CONCLUSION
It’s important to note that Rebecca does pull herself
back from the precipice by the end of 2x04.
[“I understand why you had to leave West Covina and... someday I will be happy for you.”]
But as is often the case, some things have to be learned multiple times. And
this isn’t the last time Rebecca will have to confront the limits of her worldview.
To this point, Rebecca has only been able to see things in extremes, as either AMAZING or
DEVASTATING [french depression]. Now, she’s presented with a romantic ballad,
the lyrics of which detail how shitty a relationship was. Nothing is going the
way she expected [sharpay this is not what i want this is not what i planned]
Which is exactly what the show is about.
CXG is “about” a lot of stuff, but one theme it’s particularly interested in is that of living with
expectations. Rebecca only “gets” Josh by sheer brute force, without pausing to consider if she
and Josh are actually compatible. When she does start to intuit that maybe they’re not actually
a good match, she ignores and violently pushes down her OWN sense of uncertainty.
Because this is what’s supposed to happen. Because if Josh isn’t right–if every love kernel,
every sign–that meeting in New York–wasn’t leading to this, what then? What can she make of her life?
This isn’t to say we can never have expectations of any kind, ever get
our hopes up. Being closed off and cynical is just another extreme. But there’s a degree of
attachment to expectations that can rob us of the natural experience of life’s ebb and flow.
Because there’s an inherent agitation that comes
with being fixated on outcomes. I know it myself all too well [taylor joke].
Happiness and expectations aren’t always diametrically opposed [FOES],
but they can be. Constantly believing that once we “get” a certain milestone, or person, then that
sense of happiness and fulfillment will follow. And sometimes it does. Certainly, things like
financial stability are a prerequisite to peace of mind. But if we keep treating certain milestones
as necessities for happiness, we’ll always be looking elsewhere than where we are.
Rebecca just pursues Josh out of pure want,
without considering what a lifetime with Josh would materially look like.
But here, at the airport, Greg thinks it all through.
He momentarily gets wrapped up in the moment, in the feelings, and then reflects.
[“What happens next, I mean, in the long run?”]
Greg is one of Rebecca’s many mirrors: [self plug card to other video] characters with whom
Rebecca’s arc occasionally rhymes. So Greg’s breakthrough in this song foreshadows Rebecca's
ability to do so herself. And I don’t just mean “foreshadow” in the sense of literary analysis,
but in the very practical sense that we learn from the people around us.
And what Greg acknowledges in this song–wanting one thing and choosing another–will become one
of the major markers of her growth. [Rebecca with Paula, telling Josh to go, telling Nathaniel no]
For rebecca to maintain her story, it’s demanded that others not be who they are. Rebecca has
expected–and needed–certain people to be her love interests. Her enemies. Her sidekick. But
time and again, people grow out of categories that never fit them in the first place. People aren’t
easily categorizable, and life isn’t totally predictable. And it’s in fact the parts of her
life that end up being the most fulfilling, are those she never, ever could’ve planned.
It may not be as exciting, but enduring love might actually be quiet, mundane,
and in unexpected places. Without necessarily making narrative sense.
She hasn’t realized that yet. But she will.
And this is where it starts.