The Babysitters Club. It is not the name of a clan of spies who solve mysteries and bloody murders, but the name of a group of babysitters. Sounds trite, says so, but for the devotees who devoured Ann M. Martin’s books in their youth, it was anything but that.
Each character in this series of novels, published between 1986 and 1999, had its well-drawn characteristics. There was Christine Thomas, the determined president of the Club. Anne-Marie Lapierre, the shy secretary. Claudia Kishi, artistic vice-president.
Residents of the fictional small town of Stoneybrook, Connecticut, they passionately ran their agency and looked after the youth of the neighborhood. Each volume set out from a “guarding adventure” – capricious twins, an indomitable tricks player – to talk about blended families, bickering between friends, first Beguins.
Upon learning that an adaptation would be made, a certain fear settled among the fans of the first hour. What this club would look like, transposed to a time when productions for American teens at the Riverdale are part of the standard?
Would babysitters go overboard, make dangerous relationships, betray themselves better and party until the end of the night?
Because if these things seem almost natural in rereadings Gossip Girl, they would be out of place in the world of Ann M. Martin, where the narrative arc often comes down to “a babysitter takes care of a kid who refuses to pick up his toys because he is sad.”
A few seconds of the first episode, titled like the first novel “Christine has a great idea”, is enough to remove this fear. The spirit is that of the writings. Naive, but not stupid. Crunchy, but not stupid. Sensitive, but not stupid.
It’s a children’s show with all that is inspiring and educational.
It talks about bereavement, illness, acceptance of self and others. But above all, friendship.
Nostalgia and 2020
It must be said that the distribution is absolutely impeccable. The young actresses chosen to embody these emblematic characters correspond almost in every way to what we had imagined. (For insiders: Claudia’s room looks like exactly to Claudia’s room.)
Sophie Grace embodies a committed chef. Momona Tamada, a visionary artist. All the friends are nuanced, endearing.
The first eight episodes evoke various volumes of the writer from New Jersey, who published dozens and dozens. Among them, “Diane and the terrible trio”, in which the newcomer to the title has to deal with particularly turbulent customers. The last two episodes are devoted to a tome with the words “superspécial” (ie non-series novels that were twice the usual size).
Throughout the adventures, there are plenty of winks to the original work. The famous logo. “Children’s kits”. The time Sophie was in love with an older beach rescuer (hi, Scott). The time when older girls founded the Babysitters Agency to compete at the Club – and went awry.
Here too, the stories of adults are seen in the eyes of young people. Like that, of love, between the eccentric and distracted mother of Diane and the clean and stuck father of Anne-Marie (played by a perfect Mark Evan Jackson).
And, question that the spirit of the 1990s is perfectly respected, Alicia Silverstone slips into the credits. In the role of the mother a little overwhelmed by the events of Christine, the star of Clueless gets married in extravagant weddings (as in the sixth novel).
The secondary characters do not remain in the background for long. We think of Claudia’s grandmother, Mimi, who teaches knitting and always has a filled teapot nearby. Or her big sister Janine, who has a passion for neurology, but not for her emotions.
We know it, we know it, it seems really too nice and candid, all that. But for some, watching Club members repaint Anne-Marie’s pink walls is a bit like watching her favorite superheroes come to life.
Still, despite the nostalgia that the series may arouse, we do not bet here on easy feelings. The whole, marked by altogether subtle changes, is adapted to 2020.
So, to make their appointments, the girls always meet around a fixed line telephone (“an iconic object”). Otherwise, some allusions are made to “new” technologies. Sophie is haunted by a viral video in the episode where she hides from her loved ones that she is diabetic. Claudia says social media is rotting the brain.
The soundtrack quickly deviates from syrupy agreed music to hear tubes of Lizzo and Charli XCX. The stooges refer to Michelle Obama to give themselves strength. “When they lower themselves, you rise or rather, you show honesty. And they speak without complex and without exaggerated support, of feminism, identity.
The costumes designed by Cynthia Ann Summers (who imagined those of L Word) are also well chosen. Christine’s caps and jeans, Anne-Marie’s pleated skirts, Claudia’s oversized watermelon earrings (or just a loop, it’s cooler), Sophie’s wardrobe, always dressed as a Manhattan fashion map.
Devoid of cynicism and wickedness, but no emotions or soul, The Club des baby-sitters is everything readers could hope for from a television adaptation of these novels filled with kindness and humanity.
The Babysitters Club on Netflix from July 3
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