“I felt a lot of comfort watching Wednesday, like I was not alone in the loving frustration of raising two teenagers.
I’ll be honest, that first scene with Morticia and Gomez Addams somehow felt very recognizable to me as the father of two teenagers. They’re driving Wednesday to Nevermore Academy while discussing how important the school was to their childhood and their relationship, kissing dramatically the whole time as Wednesday glares at them. Gomez (played by Luis Guzmán) says, “You’re going to love Nevermore.” Morticia (Catherine Zeta-Jones) agrees and adds, “It’s the perfect school for her.” Wednesday, played by Jenna Ortega, looks at her parents with that cold, flat, dark scowl of hers and says, “Because it was the perfect school for you? I have no intentions of following in your footsteps.”
And I know, I know, the last thing I was looking for when I turned this very well done, dark and humorous spin-off of The Addams Family was to find connection with my own life situation. But facts are facts, and I was watching Wednesday alone in my living room, longing for my teenage son and daughter to join me. But alas, my son is 15 and my daughter is 13, and we’ve reached this stage where if I, their doting father who wanders the house in sweatpants and slippers that read “BEST PAPA,” suggest that they try a food I find delectable, or read a book I love, or even check out a new show, there’s a 75% chance that they will reject it for the sole reason that it was suggested by me.
According to every book I’ve read about raising teenagers (and trust me, I’ve read quite a few because I feel completely lost in this cloud of hormones, emotional changes and brain development that is adolescence), pushing away from your parents as you try to find your own identity outside of the family is a normal part of leaving the nest. All of that sounds so clinical and easy and obvious, but the reality is it’s eerily similar to how Wednesday Addams looked at Morticia and Gomez in that first scene.
Vlad Cioplea/Netflix
In fact, I’d go as far as to say Wednesday absolutely nails it with every parent-teen interaction.
One of my favorite moments is in Episode 5 when Morticia and Gomez visit Wednesday during parents’ weekend at Nevermore. Gomez is literally bursting with pride as his daughter glares at him. His response? “Oh, how we missed those accusing eyes and youthful sneer.” Her parents adore her, while she absolutely loathes them.
Wednesday tries to deny her place as an Addams. But no matter how much she glares and resists, she is, without a doubt, very much part of this creepy, kooky family. I see this all the time with my teenagers, particularly my son, as he struts around the house with the same shoulder-length hair I had at his age, his stride almost identical to mine.
Ironically, I was watching Episode 5 in the living room as my son was in the kitchen making ravioli, both of us in nearly identical outfits, a hoodie and track pants. He was making pasta as I was eating pasta. Yet when I asked a second time if he wanted to hang out and watch a show with me, he looked back at me with Wednesday-like revulsion, and shook his head no.
Vlad Cioplea/Netflix
Moments later on the screen, Wednesday runs into her mother in the Nightshade Society’s secret room, behind the statue of Edgar Allan Poe. Morticia looks at her daughter with pride and assumes she’s a Nightshade. Wednesday responds that she rejected the Nightshades because she will never live up to her mother’s legacy at Nevermore. She rattles off a list of Morticia’s accomplishments at the school and asks, “Why would you send me somewhere I could only exist in your shadow?” Morticia replies, “It’s not a competition,” to which Wednesday counters, “Everything is a competition.” After hearing all Morticia’s successes in her own days at the school, it seems to me that Wednesday got her passion to win at all costs from her mother.
With each episode, Wednesday pushes further away from Morticia and Gomez, trying to establish herself as an independent non-Addams. And her parents, bless their black hearts, respond to her repulsion with absolute love and kindness — in the Addams family way, of course, via pet names like “my little viper” and by reminding Wednesday of that very special childhood gift, her first grave-robbing kit. And the whole time, given her obsessions with torture, death and all things ghoulish, she is clearly an Addams. This pushing away, while still being an undeniable part of the family, is something parents of teenagers everywhere must be nodding their heads about.
At least, I know I was. It was honestly my favorite part of the show.
Now don’t get me wrong, the exchanges between Wednesday and her parents are over-the-top, for sure. They are odd, dark, and hilarious, in all the ways characteristic of Tim Burton (who directed four episodes of the series), co-creators Alfred Gough and Miles Millar and the whole Addams Family franchise. But as crazy as it sounds, I honestly felt a lot of comfort watching Wednesday. It felt like I was not alone in the loving frustration of raising my two teenagers as they try to define themselves as individuals, while also becoming more and more like their parents each day.
The day after I finished watching the series, as I drove my son’s carpool to school, his best friend went on and on about how amazing Wednesday was. And as we discussed the show, I casually said to my son, “I’d love to watch it again sometime. You know, if you’re up for it.” He thought for a moment, pushed his hair behind his ears and replied, “Yeah. That might be cool.” “Perhaps this weekend,” I offered. He nodded, and I couldn’t stop smiling.
