Check out the WFMU sticker in Clarissa Darling's locker; image courtesy of msn.com
Tonight’s post focuses on an oldie but a goodie TV theme song from my youth. Remember this chestnut?
Clarissa Explains It All was a Nickelodeon sitcom that ran between 1991 and 1994. It also catapulted Melissa Joan Hart to teen TV stardom and movies like Can’t Hardly Wait and Drive Me Crazy. Hart played Clarissa Darling, a teenage girl with a typical family, an annoying little brother we all called Fergface, a dude best friend named Sam, and a quirky wardrobe that would make Blossom Russo envious.
Clarissa is also one of the few TV girl protagonists to break the fourth wall and talk directly to the audience. In fact, she’s a smart, pro-active girl that some scholars, notably Sarah Banet-Weiser, argue is a third-wave feminist character. I’d have to revisit the show to gauge its cultural relevance and feminist politics. But let’s talk about the opening credits.
First of all, what an outfit. I wouldn’t let my daughter wear it out of the house without a more modest pair of shorts and a sweater, but I wouldn’t begrudge her burgeoning fashion sense. And I’d definitely be proud of her inheriting her mother’s love of colored tights.
I also like the theme song. Sure, it’s dated, but it’s really spunky and contains female vocals, thus potentially connecting the protagonist to the theme song and perhaps to a considerable portion of the show’s intended audience. It also may have been influential to subsequent teen television programming from the decade. Having the melody sung as a series of “nah”s brings to mind the intro to Daria‘s theme. And the nudge to “just do it!” at the end reminds me of Rayanne Graff saying ”go now, go” in the theme to My So-Called Life.
Oh, and fun fact. Apparently Clarissa‘s theme was co-written by Rachel Sweet, who had a minor country hit in 1978 called “B-A-B-Y.”
But the thing I’m struck by is that the opening credit sequence hinges on Clarissa trying to write her first name, which the audience sees being formed backwards. Pointedly, all of the other principal characters keep interrupting her, though never keep her from completing her task. I especially love that Clarissa performs a quick series of stunts to ward off her brother before snapping her fingers to make him disappear. I also like her happy little shrug when she’s finally left by herself to finish writing her name before flipping it so that we, the audience, can read it.
Girl studies scholars like Carol Gilligan have written about the importance of names to the development of pubescent female identity. This theorization also applies to the movie Coraline, wherein the main character is constantly having to assert that her name is not Caroline.
Coraline, not Caroline; image courtesy of mentalfloss.com
I feel like Clarissa is staking a similar claim of selfhood here. Let’s do her the kindness of giving her the space to form the words.
