Beverly Hills 90210, the TV cult that defined a generation

There's a paradox in television melancholy: the more a series is entrenched in its era – embodying its fashion, language, and generational anxieties – the more rapidly it ages, becoming almost antiquated for those who didn't experience it firsthand. Yet, it's precisely this historical specificity that transforms certain productions into an iconic time capsule, into which one can re-immerse themselves years later with a pleasantly nostalgic feeling.

Just a while ago, we revisited on these pages the impact of Dawson's Creek and the recent loss of its title-character James Van Der Beek. Today, however, we're talking about something that came even earlier, a true watershed moment for teen stories on the small screen. Starting April 3rd, all ten seasons of Beverly Hills, 90210 arrive on Sky and NOW, providing an opportunity to return to those mythical Nineties, conceptually so distant from today's world and youth.

How We Were

A kind of anthropological document, more accurate than any sociological essay, is what the first season of Beverly Hills, 90210 represents—a testament to an America that no longer exists, to a pre-internet adolescence that seems as distant as the Cretaceous period, to a historical moment—that brief interlude between the fall of the Berlin Wall and 9/11—when it seemed that the only remaining drama was that of unrequited love.

When the series debuted on October 4, 1990, on Fox, few would have bet on its survival, partly due to the less-than-favorable ratings of the first season. Yet, perseverance prevailed and transformed a flop into a global mass phenomenon.

Darren Star was a young, thirty-year-old screenwriter who dreamed of transforming John Hughes-esque teen films into a serialized format, bringing to the then-cathode ray tube the same blend of romance, comedy, and more serious themes that had made works like The Breakfast Club (1985) and Sixteen Candles (1984) milestones of 1980s teen cinema. On the other hand, Aaron Spelling, a producer who had already filled American schedules with productions of the caliber of Dynasty, Charlie's Angels, The Love Boat, Fantasy Island, and so on, was a sure bet and knew how to capture the tastes of the general public.

Distant but Close

Beverly Hills, 90210 took us into the homes of the rich, in one of the most affluent overseas neighborhoods par excellence, prompting young viewers to identify with those peers, or slightly older, grappling with various romantic tribulations. Sex was a kind of chimera, a goal to unlock, and nothing was taken for granted, amidst influences à la James Dean – in the key figure of Dylan, who, paradox among paradoxes, wasn't even present in the pilot episode – and allusions to American Graffiti (1973) or even Happy Days in a much later context.

The series opens with a premise as simple as it is effective, introducing twins Brandon and Brenda Walsh as the main protagonists, having just moved with their parents from Minneapolis to glittering Beverly Hills. This allows viewers to observe and discover that golden world through external eyes, sharing the cultural shock of the two siblings. Brandon is portrayed as the classic naive, rule-abiding boy scout, while already showing a rebellious streak, albeit good-hearted. A dramatic duality just enough to create narrative tension and attract audience sympathy.

Out of the Tunnel

The first season, more than the subsequent ones, was a kind of unique entity, almost suspended in time: the spirit of the eighties had not completely vanished in the early nineties, even if grunge hints were slowly beginning to emerge. And the characters were not real teenagers but idealized fantasies of adolescence, with the cast almost always much older than the characters they played – emblematic is the case of Andrea, with actress Gabrielle Carteris practically thirty years old.

What truly set Beverly Hills, 90210 apart was the audacity, entirely new for its time, with which it tackled topics considered taboo for contemporary audiences. From AIDS to sexual violence, from unwanted pregnancies to illness, to drug and alcohol addiction. Certainly, today, how these topics were addressed may appear with a partially sugar-coated perspective, but one must contextualize everything to the precise historical period and how television at the time spoke to its target audience. A target that even today, amidst tragic disappearances of cast members – from Luke Perry to the more recent Shannen Doherty – and memories of their youth, will have the opportunity to dive back into this coming-of-age story that has marked an entire generation.