LOS ANGELES - Like many 25-year-old women, Lena Dunham grew up on "Sex and the City," even staying in with Mom one New Year's Eve to watch a nine-episode marathon.
Unlike her peers, Dunham created a show about that infatuation. But "Girls," which premieres Sunday on HBO to the kind of critical praise that welcomed "Mad Men," is not an homage to its predecessor. It's an indictment, blaming Carrie Bradshaw and company for setting a ridiculous and even dangerous standard that scarred a generation. The series is rarely laugh-out-loud funny, but it's always think-out-loud provocative television.
Dunham, who wrote and directed most of the episodes, plays Hannah, a recent college graduate who has moved to New York with visions of cosmopolitans and sexual adventures. But Hannah's dream of being the next Carrie is slowly falling apart, even if she refuses to see it.
She doesn't understand why her unpaid internship hasn't led to a fashion column. She's flabbergasted that her parents won't give her a grand a month while she's "busy trying to become who I am."
She can't come to grips with the fact that her boyfriend, a shirtless non-wonder whose idea of foreplay is playing out pedophilia fantasies on his sheetless mattress, will never turn into Mr. Big. She's startled that a job interview goes south because her flirtatious dialogue includes a joke about date rape.
Her naivete is compounded by the myriad of tattoos on her back -- all illustrations from children's books.
"I think I may be the voice of my generation," she tells her parents after chugging some marijuana tea, just her latest attempt to be hip. "Or at least a voice of a generation."
Hannah isn't the show's only lost soul.