A shirtless Adam Driver sprinting down the streets of Brooklyn like a cracked-out Adonis was not enough to save the season finale of HBO’s “Girls” last night. And gosh darn, those pecs…

Lena Dunham, Time magazine’s newly proclaimed “Queen of Cool,” is supposedly the

spokeswoman for our generation. As the starchild of Judd Apatow, sap-sucking king of the ‘brozone’ layer, we are sure to be seeing more of her semi-autobiographical exploits on HBO’s coveted Sunday 9 p.m. spot.

The first season of the show was lauded by critics, receiving a score of 87 out of 100 according to the universal ranking organizer Metacritic.

Despite the eponymous title, this season really had me asking myself: who is this show really about?

The Bechdel test is used to determine if there is gender bias in works of fiction. There is only one cardinal rule to pass: two female characters must have a conversation about something other than men.

Ironically, the season finale of Girls managed to failed this test spectacularly. Not only were there no conversations, this episode also did not contain a single scene where one of the three female leads even spoke to each other. Marnie and Hannah were in the same room, but Hannah hid under the bed. That’s the closest the women in the show came to actually talking.

Rather, the plot focused on the tumultuous relationships that have been set in stone since the first season. Predictably, Marnie, through several acts of desperate self-induced humiliation, is able to win back the pity of her darling Charlie, who takes her back and claims he was loving her through it all, despite how dumb it makes him (and yes, it makes him quite dumb).

Shoshana finally realizes the fatal flaw in her relationship with Ray, citing his lack of motivation and general pessimistic attitude toward life. She dumped his sorry butt in what was probably the most realistic scene in the season. She then goes on to do exactly what she promises Ray she would never: makes out with a hunky Scandinavian.

Jessa remains verily absent. Hannah leaves a voicemail on her phone. This is the second closest two female characters come to talking. Hannah says her life is falling apart because she cut off all her hair.

And finally, our dearly frumpy protagonist HaLennah hits rock bottom in her depression/OCD – or whatever self-perpetuated drama – and spends most of the episode eating Cool Whip.

And when things get back, who ya gonna call? Ghostbusters? Well, your ex-boyfriend is close enough.

And off course the hunkalicious Adam comes running in to save her from her sweaty bedridden misery. With a cheesy soundtrack Judd himself must have picked out, Adam breaks down her door, and scoops her pathetic baby body up in his arms and they kiss.

She dumped him for being mentally ill and her mental illness brings them back together. How… cute?

If this season was about anything, it was about the breakdown between the relationships of the girls and their dependent/unhealthy relationships with their male counterparts (who have not changed since last season). They might as well rename the series “Boys,” because the world these delusional kids of the rich live in revolves around a phallus in a fancy scarf. You know, the kind hipsters wear.

Last season, while the men played a central role in the plot, there was a distinctive core of she-ra righteousness to counteract it. One of my favorite scenes is when Marnie returns to the apartment and Hannah is there blasting “Dancing on My Own” by Robyn and dancing in her floppy-jumping dance-y way. There was just something magic there. I downloaded that song and listened to it everyday for a month.

Where did that go? When did this go from being a show about girls to a show about twenty-something relationship drama? I guess I can’t blame them for being like every other show out there, but I can blame them for promoting themselves as different, edgy and real, when their core values swing back to the classic “prince rides in and saves the day” trope.

Is it so wrong to want a modern-day story that doesn’t need to be saved by a man?

I’ll keep dreaming.

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