Who is this director Sudz Sutherland?  My hat's off to him.  He got Adamo Ruggiero to slow down, take his time and take a breath now and then in the most recently aired Degrassi episode "If You Leave" (#613, 17 February 2007).  It's Marco like you've never seen him.  The maternal among you who want to wrap Marco up in a fluffy blue blanket and hug him till he calms the fuck down for once will have quite a reverie here.  We get to see Marco beaten down -- pathetic, vulnerable, lumpy, fuzzy.  No longer the go-to guy in charge, Marco's the walking wounded here, weary and self-doubting, getting no sleep cuz college ain't the cakewalk high school was, and quietly crumbling because horndog-with-a-past Dylan is sneaking around for some reason and Marco assumes the worst.

 

We've loved Adamo for acting out, Acting Out, acting OUT all the angsty drama all these years.  Now it looks like we get to love him more for graduating to this more thoughtful, internal (dare we say "adult?") acting style.

 

(By the way, reading the teasers for this episode, I never thought for a moment that Dylan had a boy on the side.  If he had, I hoped it would be Antoine.  You remember Antoine, at the poker game?  ("Antoine, look at my new tattoo?"  "AWE-some, dewd!")  I didn't think it was Eric, the dorm trick Marco caught Dylan on bed with (on, not in, but you know what was implied).  You remember Eric later at Dylan's dorm party: "Dyyyy-laaaaan ... Kami-KAAAA-zeeeez."   Eric was way too yin, and sweetly fey "honey, I'm in university now" Dylan not quite yang enough for those two to go anywhere.  Is there a place where we can register our vote as to which we think is the top in Darco?  My money's on Marco.)

 

Anyway, back to "If You Leave."  Poor Marco all neo-grunged, bed-head, dirty jeans, thrift shop sport jacket with sleeves too long, stubbly upper lip, necktie hanging all slack around an open collar.  This rumpled Chaplinesque tramp figure drags himself to old friends Spinner and Jimmy's miraculously resurrected storefront T-Shirt factory.  (Remember it was a retail store, but now it looks like they sell everything online and otherwise play video games all day.  LOVE these guys!)

 

Marco moans to his buds that he is being neglected by his big bad bundle of joy and pain.  He curls up on the couch to lick his wounds and drown his sorrows in a giant bowl of popcorn.  Earth-Father Boddhisattva Jimmy assures Marco he just has to rekindle the romantic magic.  Marco trusts Jimmy implictly.  Marco knows, as do we all, that Jimmy is wise and has always loved and protected Marco since they were kids.  >sniff<

 

Later after spying on Dylan's emails (something St. Marco does only after second and third thoughts and making sure the coast is clear), Marco once more hobbles to his old friends' clubhouse to sing the blues.  He tells them he is certain he has been wronged yet again by his serial cheatin' good for nothin' hockey-playin' classmate layin' whore of a husband.  Rather than the usual Marco spitfire rage we have a numbness, a resignation, a somnambulance.  Marco goes through his usual tempramental/paranoid/possessive reaction but introspectively, in slow motion, whimpering, almost slurring his words.  It is fascinating to watch.  Even when he was a scared little kid in the midst of getting gay-bashed, Marco was always fighting back.  We have never seen him register defeat like this.  It is a powerful, powerful moment, depressive Marco huddled all defeated over the popcorn (or bridge mix or chips or whatever -- I watched it on my laptop).

 

Adamo knows how to take the economical little two minute scene the Degrassi writers are so good at spinning out and turning it into an aria.  He's proven time and again he can wring a Greek tragedy out of the simplest little page of mono- and disyllabic teen drama dialogue.  Now he dares to draw us in, brave enough to show us something quiet and raw.  (Please, please, please, oh mighty forces of the universe, let Adamo have a huge film career, please!  Please?  We want to watch Adamo continue to so accurately show us the truth about the human condition.  Please?)

 

The other revelation here is John Bregar as Dylan, who has always shown such promise while given practically nothing to do.  Seems over the years he would get called in for a couple of episodes per season whenever Marco needed to have all his buttons pushed for our endless entertainment (and we have so appreciated that).  You know the drill: Adamo would do his usual dazzling acrobatics,  leaving poor John with the holding-back-the-tears reaction shot.  It's all good -- fireworks can't explode without someone there to light the fuse.

Oh so satisfying now then to watch John as Dylan seeking approval from his younger firy mate, registering some primal need to be with him.  Finally Dylan has the guts to quietly demand that Marco break out of his residual adolescent narcissism for once and fully acknowledge someone else's experience, instead of offering the usual kneejerk expression of sympathy.

 

The writing and directing are so informative here.  Dylan has adopted Marco's "gotta jet" signature line from Season 3.  Perhaps Sudz directed them to swap characters for this episode, as Dylan now is rushed, nervous, duplicitous and Marco the cool observer, emotionally involved but passive.  This sophisticated kind of work is so theatrical and fun -- what a surprise to find it on television.

 

John it turns out can break your heart without working half as hard as Adamo.  Two vastly different kinds of actors these two, and again, Sudz Sutherland found a way to ignite some chemistry there that we hadn't seen before.  (I'd always found Marco/Spinner -- Sparco -- to be a way more juicy relationship than Darco, even though, of course, Sparco wasn't meant to be romantic.  Shane Kippel and the writers have created a whole multi-layered alternative universe with Spinner.  Sparco over the years have gotten copius screen time as a unit and separately.  Darco on the other hand have gotten a small fraction of that.  As well, the choice was made to keep Dylan a little mysterious, so Darco was always presented as Marco-centric, i.e., from Marco's point of view.

 

The Dylan/Marco power balance has truly evened out in this latest episode.  The writing is credited to one Duana Taha and is, in a word, fine.  When Dylan empties his equipment bag of its sweaty hockey kit contents, Marco purrs "As far as smells go that's just above road kill. I'm gonna miss it." -- a funny and touching line worthy of Chekov (note to Adamo -- read Chekov if you haven't already).  Finally we get confirmation that these two share a deep intimacy, and that they cherish it.  Adamo modulates his voice to a slow velvety twang that is very appealing.  (I never thought I'd see the day.  Is Adamo trying out a California accent?  Is he imitating a U.S. acquaintance?  Whatever actor trick he's playing it is genuinely effective, thoroughly charming and as always entertaining as hell.)

 

Oh, man, Dylan and Marco finally get to cuddle a little on the couch, have a candlelit dinner, or the start of one anyway.  They get to have a little soft music in the background. We get to see a hint of our favorite couple having a normal domestic life.  Thank you for that, Degrassi.  We've been waiting for years for that, some of us anyway.  Such scenes are still revolutionary on mainstream U.S. television, and are usually allowed only when one of the couple is dying of AIDS or something else catastrophic is imminent.

 

And thank you again, Sudz Sutherland, for dispensing with that ridiculous fake actor-y kiss, where one actor pushes his mouth on the other's top or bottom lip with everybody's lips all hermetically, iron-cladly pursed.  Remember when Dylan/Marco got back together (in front of the school on the hood of Dylan's car) and John appeared to be sucking on Adamo's chin?  And poor Adamo acting up a storm to try and overcompensate for the phoniness of it all?

 

Here, trusty Sudz has the actors just kind of lean in and nuzzle at each other, lingeringly.  Sixty years ago actors in Hollywood weren't allowed to kiss longer than three seconds on screen.  Director Alfred Hitchcock got around that in "Notorious" by having Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman kiss quickly but repeatedly for a very long time.  Maybe Sudz was inspired by that -- even though it's very brief, here he has Marco's face gently caress Dylan's, eyes lowered.  Since their lips don't even meet nobody can say its too much for the tween audience to handle (as if!).  This sweet choreography implies intimacy deeper than a kiss could convey, and signals that Darco really are going to make the most of the time they have left together.

 

We assume this is Dylan's last episode.  Thank you, John Bregar, for being a vital part of all this, for helping us all feel a little more like we all belong, like we all have a place at the T.V. table!  We'll be watching for you as your career proceeds.  Carry on Adamo!