Robert David Sullivan

Norman Lear on TV comedy and studio audiences

Vox's Todd VanDerWerff has a nice interview with 92-year-old television producer Norman Lear, who created All in the Family, Maude, Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman, and other landmark series in the 1970s. As VanDerWerff writes, Lear "took a medium that seemed stuck on avoiding the perils of the present and dragged it, kicking and screaming, toward confrontation with the important political and social issues of the day."

For years, I've been defending the three-camera, live-studio-audience sitcom format (as have VanDerWerff and other TV critics like Jaime Weinman), so I liked this quote from Lear:

When you look at those shows, you see those immense closeups of Maude, or of Archie, or Edith, and the camera's hovering there, while the actor is—the best way of being able to put it—riding the emotions of the audience. The audience is laughing longer than expected. The actor is holding onto that. He's got a nose twitch where there wasn't a nose twitch, because they weren't laughing that long. And they're laughing a little bit more to that nose twitch. It's something that can only happen between a live audience and the onstage performer. I think that's why the shows feel so different, because they were made where the audience and the actors were working together.

That view is not shared by many people under 40. Now audiences want comedies that move fast and aim for unpredictability rather than emotional resonance.

Parks & Recreation, Veep, and the politics of the sitcom

This week NBC announced that the final season of Parks and Recreation will begin on January 13. I wrote about Parks, Veep, and other TV shows about politics for America magazine in November ("Uncivil Society"). Below is a longer version of that essay. Please check out my ongoing blog at America's website; today's post looks at how pop-culture obsessions like Serial and True Detective are now paralleled in political journalism and news coverage of events like the killing of Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri.

Fifteen years after the premiere of The West Wing, there are more TV shows about politics than ever before, with Scandal among the biggest hits on broadcast television and a half-dozen others in production on various platforms, including Netflix and Amazon. But the trend is not likely to boost interest in this fall’s real-life elections.

It turns out that the key to a successful TV show about politics is to take out the policy. Public officials can hold our interest only if they’re not able to do much of anything. Passing legislation and delivering social services aren’t as dramatic, or as funny, as scheming and outwitting opponents just to stay in office.

The cynical approach to politics is to be expected on series that rely on thrills and plot twists, but sitcoms have not always been so dismissive toward taking an interest in one’s larger community. It was only after the sitcom got hard-edged that politics became an attractive topic.

The rise and fall of empathy

At its peak in the 1970s, the American sitcom was all about empathy. All in the Family teaches the virtues of tolerance, and M*A*S*H attacks the dehumanization necessary to wage war. On the police comedy Barney Miller, the arrestees have stories that would challenge anyone’s “lock ’em up” attitude; the psychology patients on The Bob Newhart Show just need to know they aren’t alone; and on Taxi even people in New York City, including Jeffrey Tambor as a congressman who clumsily pursues cabbie Elaine, usually turn out to be decent souls.

Who needs old movies when you’ve got HBO Go?

This week HBO announced that Americans will soon be able to watch the premium cable channel without subscribing to cable TV, getting good shows and awful movies through the Internet. Good news for me, since I already get only the most basic cable package plus HBO, foregoing sports, Duck Dynasty, and seizure-inducing news channels. (Did you hear that Crossfire got cancelled again?) Soon I can get rid of cable TV forever and only pay for channels and shows that I watch!

Still, I kind of wish Turner Classic Movies were being offered à la carte instead. I’m the last person to disrespect new TV; I love John Oliver and Veep, and I’m enjoying Netflix shows like Orange Is the New Black. But access to older movies (and, maybe, older TV shows) may be the big casualty of the move to streaming entertainment.

I’m one of the dinosaurs who still subscribes to mail-delivered DVDs through Netflix because that’s the only way to get most classic films after video stores disappeared. Last week I watched Taxi Driver for the first time on a Netflix DVD. Before the movie started, I had to sit through a commercial for a product of “the future,” called the DVD. So one of the most highly regarded films in history was on a piece of plastic about 20 years old. When someone steps on it before mailing it back, will Netflix replace it? How long before Netflix completely sheds its bothersome DVD service anyway?

The bargain bins in the few stores left that sell DVDs are eventually going away, Netflix is showing little interest in putting classic cinema online, and cable channels that show movies written for people over 12 may not be able to survive without being subsidized by customers who never watch them. Better get through that movie bucket list while you still can.

Recent writing: The Odd Couple, Veep, and the Koch brothers

I'd be delighted, and ever-so-slightly monetized, if you'd check out my recent work at the A.V. Club and America magazine.

The A.V. Club's "TV Club 10" feature has my appreciation of the 1970s sitcom The Odd Couple, and in particular Tony Randall's performance as Felix:

Randall adds the “manic” to Felix’s depression, and the character crashes hard whenever his enthusiasm leads him astray. (“You always go too far,” Oscar says near the end of several episodes.) Felix can be described as a prototype for the ’90s metrosexual—he must have been a pioneering consumer of moisturizers for men—but his character is even more predictive of how chatty society would become about anxieties and neuroses. In his less hyperactive moments, Felix is candid about his hang-ups (to use a word from his era), a trait that bewilders Oscar but would be considered normal today.

Also at the A.V. Club, my review of the third-season opener of the HBO political comedy Veep:

Veep is can be seen as an argument for libertarianism, since it scrupulously avoids presenting any public official as being concerned with anything other than holding onto power. Last season, for example, the show gleefully revealed that one of Selina’s principal rivals, war hero Danny Chung, was just as petty—but even less disciplined—than the vice president. At the same time, the Mayberry Machiavellians of Veep (to steal a phrase from an appointee of George W. Bush disillusioned by the constant political strategizing in the White House) don’t seem to have much influence over how the country actually runs. Maybe the Leslie Knopes in local government actually help citizens, but Washington is just a sideshow.

And my regular blogging at America magazine has touched on such topics as Jeb Bush and immigration reform, the launch of Ezra Klein's Vox.com site and his musings on politics and stupidity, and the problems of relying on charity to reduce poverty.

Last week, I also wrote about the Koch brothers, big money in politics, and the ouster of Mozilla CEO Brendan Eich over his donation to an anti-gay-marriage campaign in California:

Free speech was clearly the loser this time, but Mozilla seems resigned to the outcome. Andrew Sullivan has a predictably heated response: “There is only one permissible opinion at Mozilla, and all dissidents must be purged! Yep, that’s left-liberal tolerance in a nut-shell.”

As a supporter of marriage equality, I have some admiration for the lightning tactics used against Mozilla. What we have here is hardball politics as practiced by the National Rifle Association (and, yes, by the Koch brothers). The campaign against Brendan Eich is similar to the NRA’s battle against President Obama’s nominee as surgeon general, Vivek Murthy, for the sin of tweeting in favor of gun control after the massacre at an elementary school in Newtown, Connecticut. The strategy is the same: No compromise, no mercy.

 

 

Growing up gay with "Match Game"

My latest for the A.V. Club is a look at the history and the must-see episodes of the 1970s afternoon hit Match Game. From "10 Match Game episodes that hit viewers right in the blank":

[Brett] Somers sat in the upper tier next to, and mock-sparred with, Charles Nelson Reilly, who also joined in 1973 and continued through a 1990-91 revival. Not concerned with being recognized as gay, Reilly was a role model for a lot of youngsters who didn’t yet realize they needed one. In contrast to the misanthropic Paul Lynde on Hollywood Squares, Reilly was a “good gay” who winked at the audience and looked genuinely sorry when he didn’t match contestants. When the question is about a “really weird” woman who “keeps her husband in a blank,” Reilly responds with “closet.” In another episode: “You know you’re at a really wild party when you see a blank in every room.” Reilly writes, “chains from the ceiling.” Reilly frequently complains that Somers copies his answers; Somers gripes that Reilly takes too long and dresses like a slob. (“Charles Nelson Reilly isn’t wearing any socks!”)

Even as a kid, I knew it was a silly show, but it was so thrillingly adult, in ways I didn't fully comprehend until later. Today I can knock out innuendoes like no one's business, but there's still no Match Game app on Facebook, so I'm stuck with Words with Friends. Meh.

The Michael J. Fox Show: "Thanksgiving"

I review the holiday episode for the A.V. Club. Excerpt:

The Michael J. Fox Show can’t really afford to coast right now, but taking an easy slide down a hill are what Thanksgiving episodes are for. Occasionally there’s a “Turkeys Away,” the episode that may have saved WKRP In Cincinnati from getting cancelled in its first year, but most shows use the holiday to get away with some very old comic setups. The most cherished tradition is to invite a couple of older actors to guest as never-seen-before relatives, and “Thanksgiving” has Charles Grodin and Candice Bergen as Mike’s parents, Steve and Beth.

Bergen is a likeable actress, always a good sport, but her delivery is distractingly similar no matter whom she’s playing. The world seems to freeze for each of her very carefully enunciated lines, and her performance as Mike’s nosy, hypercritical mother is essentially Murphy Brown in a Betty White hairdo. Her snarking at Marie’s housekeeping and cooking skills is a nonstarter of a plot.

The 40th anniversary of Veal Prince Orloff

November 17 is the 40th anniversary of my favorite episode of The Mary Tyler Moore Show, in which Mary throws a dinner party and almost "kills" Sue Ann's Veal Prince Orloff by making her leave it in the oven a few minutes too long. I ranked "The Dinner Party" No. 6 in my Top 100 Sitcom Episodes of All Time. Part of my reasoning:

The Mary Tyler Moore Show is a "nice" 1970s sitcom in which differences are usually resolved by the end of an episode. In contrast, social situations on the 1990s Frasier, which otherwise shares MTM's sophisticated style, almost always end with characters fleeing in confusion or anger — as is also the case with Seinfeld. Other sitcoms, like Friends and Parks and Recreation, tend to have it both ways, putting its characters through humiliating situations but ending episodes on optimistic notes. "The Dinner Party" probably would be considered too tame for TV today (the Veal Prince Orloff would surely end up on the floor somehow), but it conveys the psychological torture of trying to get people to have a good time better than any of today's meaner sitcoms.

See the entire post here.

The Michael J. Fox Show has "Bed Bugs"

At the A.V. Club, I review the latest episode of The Michael J. Fox Show, which has a throwaway story about an infested couch and a cheesy appearance by New Jersey Governor Chris Christie. An excerpt:

The political cameo is kind of an NBC Thursday tradition: Cheers had Tip O’Neill and Mike Dukakis, Seinfeld had Rudy Giuliani, and Parks And Recreation has had a bunch of them. I hate the gimmick of cameos by non-actors. The Good Wife has thankfully tapered off on them, and Veep is all the better for creating a universe of fictional Washington pols to fill even the smallest roles. “Surprising” is the last thing you can say about politicians’ appearances on TV comedies—except for California Sen. Barbara Boxer on Curb Your Enthusiasm, lecturing Larry David that it’s proper to keep other people’s clothing that your dry cleaner has accidentally given you, and former senator and astronaut John Glenn revealing alien encounters on Frasier.

On The Michael J. Fox Show, Mike interviews Christie after not getting much sleep the night before (that’s it, no drug mix-up or anything), and he dozes off after one question. The gag is that Christie rambles on the air about being ready to make some kind of big announcement (i.e., that he’s running for president), and Mike is too tired to notice. The meta gag is that Christie is known for having a hot temper, and making a jovial appearance on a sitcom is a way of softening his image before a national audience as he really does consider a run for president.

Raising the ghost of "Alfred Hitchcock Presents"

My latest contribution to The A.V. Club is an essay on Alfred Hitchcock Presents and 10 episodes to get you into the series. You may watch them in any order you wish. They used to make TV series that way.

Before you click over, I am tempted to make some sardonic remarks about the "sponsors" at The A.V. Club. But since I don't have Hitchcock's box-office clout, I am bowing to descretion. You are under no obligation to do the same.

Not up for debate: Good TV has a better delivery system than good film

Slate's David Haglund has a #slatepitch-y piece titled with the imperative "Stop Saying That TV Is Better Than Movies These Days," and he's not just bugged about what has become a cliché. Haglund is a film buff, and he's touchingly protective of the cinema, a place that where I spent a good chunk of my childhood but almost never visit these days.

Haglund can't dismiss TV outright, so he instead charges critics who champion the box with an "attempt to narrow the range of what sophisticated viewers feel obligated to watch" (abetted, I assume, by magazine and website editors who are giving these critics more and more space.) TV critics, he writes, are not only intolerant, they're predictable:

Critics who claim that TV is better than the movies now would generally, it seems, prefer that there only be one [ascendent medium]. And when it comes to quality, TV remains, for the most part, a great simplifier. Ask nearly any professional critic — not to mention many amateur ones — for the best TV shows of the last decade or so, and you will get a very familiar list, starting with The Sopranos and ending, probably, with Breaking Bad, or maybe, say, Homeland or The Americans. You will almost certainly have heard of every show. You are not likely to encounter the sometimes bewildering variety that a collection of film critics is likely to present you with.

End game: David Auerbach's 3 types of serialized storytelling on TV

I'm always intrigued by attempts to categorize television series, such as David Auerbach's American Reader essay, "The Cosmology of Serialized Television," that accompanies this chart: 

Read the whole thing to get the idea, but Auerbach divides TV dramas into the categories of steady-state, which includes almost all long-run shows before Hill Street Blues ("focused on the short term, with little attention paid to creating suspense toward some distant plot resolution that would signal, if not the end of the show, a major turning point"); expansionary (mythology-heavy shows that "simply [enlarge], with new plot elements and characters injected into it"); and big crunch ("attempts to merge the focus of the Steady-State model with the long-term suspense of the Expansionary model, putting in clues that will mostly, hopefully, add up in the end").

24 foreign-language TV shows worth seeking out

Television has more cred as an art form than ever before, but it's still tough to follow what non-English-speaking countries are doing with the medium. The A.V. Club has an Inventory of 24 worthwhile foreign-language series that are available to American viewers. I contributed the items for City of Men, Scenes from a Marriage, Zatoichi (about a blind masseuse in 19th-century Japan), and Fabio Montale. Read the whole article here.