Smarkland: "The Hills," Like White Elephants

It is fitting that the most intriguing character in "The Hills" series finale was a two-dimensional backdrop. On a show known more for its uncomfortable silences than anything that was actually said, the producers used the parting shot to pull away the Hollywood sign in the background and remind viewers why they ever cared about the show in the first place.

The rest of the series' final episode was punctuated by a whole lot of nothing. After gifting its reality stars with outsized salaries and Hollywood careers, MTV-in its reality TV generosity-rewarded each girl left on "The Hills" with one last gift: a plotline that made her look less pathetic than she had previously.

Audrina Patridge, the quiet biker chick with the awesome body and weird lips, finally extracted herself from her weird non-relationship with existentialist hipster Justin Bobby (who was prone to philosophic aphorisms such as, "When something's working, you don't go and fuck it up by throwing labels or doing stupid things like throwing a ring on your finger because society or friends said so." Word.). Stephanie Pratt, the former methhead and DUI recipient, cleaned up her dirtbag habits and found herself a boring tattooed boyfriend. Lo, the other one, moved in with her boyfriend and prepared for the future possibility of "little babies!!"

There was nothing particularly interesting in the last episode. Then again, "The Hills" was never known for witty dialogue or gripping scenarios. Other shows have girls in expensive clothes going out to well-known bars, trying (but mostly failing) to pick up guys. On "The Hills," there was someone off screen that brought it all together. That was you.

Watching "The Hills" was less of a lean back experience than many TV series. Rather than bothering with jokes or engaging situations, "The Hills" documented its players making a series of bad decisions and left the audience to sift through what actually had or had not happened. While events rarely ascended above the mundane, the process of picking apart fact from fiction often provided the only fascinating aspect of the show. The participants in MTV's non-scripted series often admitted that the stories on screen were fake, but the presence of MTV's cameras in their lives unavoidably affected them. And yet, the show soldiered on, pretending that this is how life goes for attractive, skinny girls trying to make it in L.A.

MTV made a smart choice putting Lauren Conrad at the forefront of its "Laguna Beach" spinoff. That original series capitalized on the popularity of "The O.C.," a scripted show about affluent young Californians, by putting cameras in the faces of actual teenagers growing up on the outskirts of L.A. Unlike most of the rich suburban kids on "Beach," Lauren appeared to have ambition, and, comparatively, some skills. More useful on "The Hills" were LC's feelings of inadequacy. She became reality television's Jan Brady.

And "The Hills" really hit its stride in the tension between Conrad and her ditsy sidekick Heidi Montag. Heidi was a ratings gift for MTV. Or rather, boyfriend Spencer Pratt's influence over her became one. A series of rotating male costars may have appeared on the series to promote themselves or their bands, but Spencer astutely played the role of villain, and brought Heidi into the storm with him.

But his ability to create drama and ratings gold took a weird turn last summer when Heidi underwent 10 plastic surgeries, transforming herself from an easily manipulated blonde girl into a warped Barbie doll. The surgeries certainly brought the pair more attention, but after a secret marriage and the cover of People, they used up their dramatic collateral. In a final moment of irony one would not have expected from the show's creative team, all the attention seeking eventually got the pair booted.

Lauren Conrad was smart enough to get out in season five, leaving a gap that "Laguna Beach" cast member Kristin Cavallari was brought in to fill. Did Kristin kill "The Hills"? Probably not. Her casting was less an active choice and more a stopgap aimed at keeping the show rolling for a little while more.

Apparently there is a limit to how long people want to watch young girls prolong miscommunications and petty disagreements. By the end, the real drama was happening off screen. Heidi, now estranged from her family, had apparently separated from Spencer. The only hint of this drama bubbled to the surface in an appearance by Heidi's mother, who seems to have shown up in a last ditch attempt to communicate with her daughter.

That effort, as I see it (insert your own interpretation here), is one of the few true tragedies you'll watch on reality television. As much as these girls have benefited from the lens and earnings of reality TV, their lives have been warped by the choices it has encouraged. Their salaries are about to dry up, and while many things will easily be forgotten, some of their rash decisions will stick with them. Marriages can be annulled. Bad boob jobs are forever.

That's where the now famous backdrop came in. In the final scenes of "The Hills" this week, Kristin and Brody Jenner, a recurring character who gamely appears whenever romantic-interest drama is required, dutifully played out the end of their scripted, dull attempt at a love affair. In a nod to Lauren's earlier, ill-fated trip to Paris, Kristin randomly decided to pick up and move there. (In the insular world of "The Hills," there exist three cities: L.A., New York and Paris. Hopefully the girls will get out more now that the show has ended. Portland is lovely this time of year.)

Watching the pair attempt to emote their scripted melodrama bordered on painful. Most notably, both players were able to bring a few tears to the situation. As Kristin pulled away in her black car, she tried to look wistfully out the window (missing the mark, she managed a mix of happy and stoned instead), scenes of "Hills" gone by flashed on the screen. Images of the show's more memorable moment added a bit more heft, but it was mostly forgettable as far as series finales go. And then the shot threw back to Brody, standing broadly in front of the HOLLYWOOD sign. Suddenly, the iconic fixture started moving, and revealed a Hollywood studio backlot behind him.

Thankfully, "The Hills"' flailing attempts at deeper emotion were usurped by that missing third wall. Was that entire scene really just filmed on a fake set? Was the notion of Kristin moving to Paris a fabrication? Will Brody start a line of Bro-themed trucker hats now that his acting gig has finished? "The Hills" leaves those questions up to the audience to answer.

But in that final moment, the producers defied the odds, and succeeded, however briefly, in making "The Hills" interesting one more time.

Meghan Keane wonders if she will ever feel the rain on her skin again.