the disintegration of Shane ...

Shane, I loved, shamelessly. For her always perfect slightly gelled or wet hair, the way she dove into a pool head first and mostly for the way her easy smile lit up my soul ... eh, my laptop screen and my room. But Season Four of L word, takes Shane and throws her in the dustbin. Not only because Pappi is there, Pappi is hotter and less vulnerable. But because Shane disappears behind some fantasy of married and settled boy in 1950s America. Its one hell of a fantasy to play out, especially for a skinny white chick but it absolutely killed Shane for me. Ah well, it was fun while it lasted. Our brief dalliance is the stuff movies are made of (movies about psychos like The Fan, I'm sure)

But that was till the last episode of Season 4, where the fantasy and its inevitable coming apart are acknowledged in a brilliantly cut sex scene, that simultaneously shows how hot it is for two women to play out that fantasy of man and woman, and how dreary. Different emotions play out, boredom, comfort, sex, your finger in my dripping cunt, lets get this over with, where is my necklace, will you marry me, drop me on the bed, i'll make breakfast for the children, i came already, i enjoy my post coital cigarette in silence, that was good, thanks for that, did you fall in love, did you take out the trash, do you play enough with the children. And when the questions become too much...

...Alright, I'll be waiting outside.

Hail split screens and intercut sex. After Out of Sight, this is the hottest and strangest that editing has got.
But not women or sex. For that, there's Jennifer Beals, the girl from Flashdance who didn't really dance but looked so edible, who was close close friends with the one hit wonder blonde in the trash film Showgirls, and then Bette Porter in L word, vulnerable, angry, controlling, dressed like a goddess always.