It’s summer of 2010 and 3OH!3’s aptly titled hit “Don’t Trust Me” blasts as we enter the inner sanctum of the teen dream – a stormy-night slumber party amongst a gaggle of gorgeous teen queens including our soon-to-be “gone girl” Alison DiLaurentis. Following in the mystery footsteps of Twin Peaks’ Laura Palmer and Desperate Housewives’ Mary Alice Young (after all, PLL was pitched as the “teen version” of the Housewives soap), Alison possesses the same key qualities. Elusive, blonde, beautiful, and of course, secretive.
On June 8, 2010, Pretty Little Liars premiered as ABC Family's highest-rated series debut. The magnetic mystery trope of a popular-white-female gone missing was thus resurrected in the YA space. Yet, its instant success underscored the collective anxiety toward an all-knowing anonymous figure that weaponizes technology. Instagram was launched, Twitter was only four years old, and social media was just beginning to reign over the generation that was in tandem spellbound by this new hit show. Nearly 12 years later, it revs up for a reimagining with Pretty Little Liars: Original Sin, rendering an opportunity to reflect on the cultural context that made the original a fan favorite and how coming-of-age stories are evolving.
In the pilot episode, our four leading ladies assemble with each individual subscribing to a different brand of high school clique, therefore establishing a well-rounded ensemble of female-driven interests. Much like 2007’s Gossip Girl, Pretty Little Liars preys on its characters as victims of exploitation by unearthing their dirty secrets, albeit with a darker, suspense edge. What do these four girls have in common without their resident queen bee Alison? At first glance, not much. Bound together by their manipulative yet mythical bond with Alison, the girls reconnect through their shared torment of blackmail messages signed “- A”. What’s clear is that this core four are not behaving as girls, but rather as young women with 20-something poise and little trace of teen awkwardness.
The pre-established 2000’s “aspirational” trend within the YA genre was reflected in the beautiful faces of our leads: The artsy one, Aria, gets tangled in a secret relationship with her high school English teacher, Ezra Fitz. What keeps these falling-in-love scenes from descending into cringe-worthy was the casting -- Aria and Ezra both appear close enough in age onscreen that it avoids the fact of Aria being a minor. The athletic one, Emily, struggles with coming out to her conservative parents when caught in a whirlwind romance with a new female student. The preppy one, Spencer, plagiarizes an essay under the pressure of her academically driven family. And lastly, the Regina George-esque popular one, Hanna, can’t seem to shake her past ridicule of being nicknamed “Hefty Hanna” as she reinvents herself to climb the social ranks of Rosewood High. What’s worse than the police finding the remains of your former best friend’s body? In this story, it’s the threat of being exposed as less than perfect by society’s standards. The pressure to fit in plagues these young women as they attempt to maintain their image in the eyes of their peers and parents.
The scariest menace takes form in “A”, who dominates with the same bullying verbiage that was once uttered by our dearly departed Alison DiLaurentis. We meet Alison in flashbacks, she taunts her girl group by playing on their insecurities and, in the same breath, entices them with the social safety of being under her wing. In these moments, Alison feels less human and more like a symbol of the aspirational feminine beauty standards of the time. Secrets can be sexy when embodied with demure early-onset womanhood á la Gossip Girl’s Serena Van Der Woodsen or Vampire Diaries’ Elena Gilbert. Alison seems to have all the makings of today’s influencer. She provides a carefully curated version of herself that offers adventure and intrigue beyond the confines of mundane suburban life, if only you’re willing to follow along for the ride.
By continuing the tradition of selecting female leads that age up the look of a teenage girl, Pretty Little Liars also broadened the interest of their audience. The escapist world-building welcomes viewers to get lost in a whole host of adult dramas by way of an idealized high school experience that promotes growing up fast. However, the strong suit lies in their sisterhood, another trope that, when done well, still never fails to draw viewers as portrayed in And Just Like That (2021), PEN15 (2019), and Insecure (2016), among many others. Only between the sacred inner circle can Aria, Spencer, Emily, and Hanna find vulnerability and acceptance of their perceived imperfections while a war-of-secrets imperil their outside reputations. They fight to preserve their personas amidst a mounting fear that telling the truth will lead to destruction, which proves to be a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Now fully immersed in the age of social media, the YA genre has pointed towards greater inclusivity and encouragement of emotional catharsis. Exposure serves popularity on social media, unlike how it once harbored fears of social shaming. “A” loomed over Pretty Little Liars by threatening to publicize the girls’ secrets. The suspense and mystery took root in a lack of access to information and an unspoken agreement to suffer in silence rather than speak up. While social media rose in prevalence, so did young people’s agency to share their own narratives due to a newfound understanding that the internet forums can also serve as a community.
On July 28th, a brand-new iteration of Pretty Little Liars emerges. Original Sin aims for a splashy summer premiere that shadows 2010. Although in the last decade, the aspirational influence that used to define the YA genre has discovered a deeper resonance by including characters of diverse socio-cultural backgrounds. The iconic “A” villain lives on as another anonymous force that again terrorizes and bonds a fresh-faced ensemble of rising female stars in Pretty Little Liars: Original Sin. While comparisons will inevitably arise as fans digest a revived take on the source material, there must be a shift in perspective to keep this story afloat. The target demographic has been met with political unrest, a global pandemic, and multiple movements that have lent a voice to marginalized populations who once went unheard. Have audiences and creatives learned from our OG Pretty Little Liars? The cycle of unrest continues if we uphold the belief that, as Alison DiLaurentis once touted, “Lies are more interesting than the truth.”
Loved the read!!! Even more excited for the new PLL Original Sin premier!!
Go Grace go!