The Secret Life of the American Teenager
TV Series Review
If you've ever wondered what's so secret about The Secret Life of the American Teenager, watching one episode might convince you that very little is—especially when it comes to sex. Show creator Brenda Hampton (of 7th Heaven fame) told Variety magazine that the original title was The Sex Life of the American Teenager. Frankly, that moniker would have been more appropriate.
Right from its birds-and-bees-laden title sequence, the show has always been preoccupied with sex and all its many, many trappings. Teens hook up, break up and make up with startling frequency, ushering into the show a host of hot-button issues ranging from promiscuity and abstinence to abortion and child abuse. While the first season focused primarily on teen pregnancy (the upshot of Amy Juergens' and Ricky Underwood's one-night stand at band camp) and a whole lot of "will-they, won't-they" tension, the show's scope has subsequently broadened.
No longer do viewers worry about who's going to have sex with whom, as most of 'em have already had it. Now, the overarching concern is who'll stay together, and why. As such, we have teens getting married. Teens getting divorced. Teens living together. Teens raising kids of their own while trying to finish high school. But really, all of that is still a derivative of the show's original DNA, which blended adolescent sex, love and commitment into a curious stew—one that leaves a bad taste in your mouth.
Back in 2008, when this series premiered, ABC Family vice president Kate Juergens told the Parents Television Council, "We're not sugar-coating teenage pregnancy, but dealing with the very real consequences of it." Since then, as the show has soldiered on, its stilted dialogue does sometimes try to grapple with sex, love and commitment with a sense of vague responsibility, even foisting a low-grade moral or two on its viewers. An example: When Ben mulls leaving his new wife, Adrian, Ricky tries to talk some sense into him. "Just wait it out, Ben," he says. "Just wait it out. You got married for the wrong reasons, maybe you'll stay together for the right reasons."
But little glimmers of conscience like that don't mitigate the fact that Secret Life is a servile soap—as explicit in its own way as Gossip Girl (and with far less artistic merit). It halfheartedly tries to convince viewers that sex comes with a set of consequences, but the tawdry final product seems more like a salute to children making adult-size decisions and searching for happiness, even though what makes these teens happy may change next week.
And while the teens do have parents who sometimes get semi-involved in their lives, rarely do they do much more than shrug their shoulders (or occasionally scowl) when it comes to their children's salacious exploits. Instead, they help to keep the focus on that "happy" quotient, rather than on what might be the right decision.
In addition to all that sexual stuff, Secret Life has also been known to take a sideways swipe or two at Christians. Grace had been a poster child for True Love Waits, yet in Season 1 she tells a classmate, "I can no longer wait, because I need sex. I want sex. I feel like having sex! And you know what? Those feelings come from love. And God is love. And I feel sure that God is OK with me making love!"
Grace does have sex, and her mother catches her and her teen lover immediately after learning that Grace's father has died in a plane crash. "You killed him!" Grace's brother yells at her, introducting some seriously muddled theology (premarital sex equals bad, parent-killing karma) to the mix.
Author and youth culture expert Walt Mueller believes the show's themes and blatant sexual dialogue could inspire healthy discussion between parents and teens. But he also warns, "If that doesn't happen, the show could function as a pretty powerful mentor and map for kids looking for sexual and relational guidance."
Plugged In's Bob Smithouser turned that thought into this analogy when the series got started: "In Michael Crichton's novel Jurassic Park, scientists clone dinosaurs by using DNA extracted from prehistoric mosquitoes. But there are gaps in the genetic code. So they substitute frog DNA in order to complete the strands and finish the job, which seems to do the trick—until that shortcut yields disastrous results. The same thing can happen with children and entertainment. Like Crichton's geneticists, young people attempt to make sense of their world by piecing together bits of information. When they face a decision and lack firsthand experience or a thorough understanding of an issue, they can subconsciously fill in those gaps with what they've seen in the media. Their frog DNA. That can be a risky proposition, especially for preteens developing expectations for their high school years based on TV dramas like The Secret Life of the American Teenager."
Crude or Profane Language
Drug and Alcohol Content
Other Negative Elements
Other Belief Systems
Readability Age Range
Shailene Woodley as Amy Juergens; Mark Derwin as George Juergens; India Eisley as Ashley Juergens; Ken Baumann as Ben Boykewich; Megan Park as Grace Bowman; Daren Kagasoff as Ricky Underwood; Molly Ringwald as Anne Juergens; Francia Raisa as Adrian; Greg Finley as Jack Pappas; Renee Olstead as Madison Cooperstein; Steve Schirripa as Leo Boykewich; Jennifer Coolidge as Betty; Jared Kusnitz as Toby