| brucekluger.com |
USA Today, September 30, 2003 Real reality TV uses star's death for good By Bruce Kluger They're calling it "a journey into uncharted waters." No, the quote doesn't refer to the American military's continued presence in Iraq or the historically hysterical recall effort in California. The remark originated with ABC executives, who announced that the popular TV sitcom 8 Simple Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter will continue this season, despite the untimely Sept. 11 death of its 54- year-old star, John Ritter. At a news conference, Lloyd Braun, chairman of ABC Entertainment Television Group, said, "Future episodes will take viewers into the Hennessy household as they experience the loss of a beloved father and construct a new life." In other words, although the Hennessys are only a fictional clan, ABC made the bold decision to acknowledge the kind of genuine, tragic events that occasionally befall a household, even if this one doesn't fit neatly into the warm-and-fuzzy 22- minute formula normally associated with the traditional situation comedy. The show's new season began a week ago tonight. The first three episodes were taped before Ritter's death. After the third episode, ABC plans to run transitional reruns while the show's writers work Ritter's death into the plot. Those episodes will air later in the season. Ritter "believed in this show," said Amy Yasbeck, his widow, who supports the network's decision to carry on. "He believed in its message: that a strong family can get through anything." This, America, is the real reality TV—not the mean-spirited, shame-flaunting circuses that in recent years have come to define that dubious genre. While shows such as Survivor thrive on duplicity and rivalry, 8 Simple Rules talks about working together as a family and embraces cohesion. Most importantly, where Fear Factor and the rest of the motley lot support the belief that, in the end, a champion must prevail—no matter what he or she has to do to taste victory—8 Simple Rules, and its continuation despite Ritter's death, serves to remind us that, in real life, sometimes no one wins—and yet we manage to pull through anyway. Time was, the situation comedy held up a mirror to the American family. After years of idealized Father Knows Best-type households, TV got brave and began exploring nuances of living-room life that were perhaps not as comfortable (or instinctively funny) as those of earlier sitcom scripts. When All in the Family debuted in 1971, America was delightfully shocked to find itself laughing at its own worst behavior. Archie Bunker brilliantly reflected the ideological bullheadedness—and unspoken bigotry—that lies, at least a bit, within all of us. All in the Family showed us the underbelly of the America dream. As viewers, we were all busted. TV back then also stepped up to the black American family, painting a portrait of everyday life that provided an intimacy even the best civil rights legislation could not. TV programmers themselves became enlightened to the era's racial inequalities—as if they needed to take responsibility for their part in the genuine struggle of black families. Shows such as Good Times and Sanford and Son forced television to acknowledge that African-Americans also deserve middle-class comforts. That's when The Cosby Show was born. Even the notion of non-family has been explored and celebrated by TV. In 1966, Marlo Thomas (in That Girl) became the first leading lady on TV to choose a career over marriage. Her mind-set would have shocked the June Cleavers and Donna Reeds of yesteryear, yet it inspired the birth of what would become an ongoing TV sisterhood—from divorced working woman Mary Richards to successful single mom Murphy Brown. Meanwhile, shows such as Maude and The Golden Girls reminded us that neither youth nor marriage are requirements for creating a family of loved ones—that small community of people who hover and intrude and argue, yet truly care for each other. I'm hopeful that the reality television revolution of the past half-decade is beginning to lose its magic. Even as viewers continue to be subjected to the freakish sideshow antics of The Jerry Springer Show or the downright cruelty of American Idol "judge" Simon Cowell, those who care about the legacy of family television have not slowed in their efforts to offer up new and more complex perspectives of the American landscape. The Bernie Mac Show introduces us to a childless husband charged with caring for his sister's children while she's in drug rehab. The new Luis follows the divorced owner of a doughnut shop in Spanish Harlem who is also his building's landlord. Even the non-sitcom Queer Eye for the Straight Guy—which some deride as "gay tokenism"—has managed to do one thing no other reality show thought of: bring together people of different orientations and lifestyles with the simple, common goal of betterment. Imagine that. And, of course, there's 8 Simple Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter. In the previous season, I never watched the show. Like Ritter's character, I'm a work-at- home dad, also with two daughters. I figured I didn't need to witness someone else juggle work and home life, when I'm in mid-juggle myself. But ABC has changed all that. By bravely deciding to show that, even after the worst of family tragedies, life indeed goes on—on both sides of the camera—the network has made me a regular and permanent viewer. (Photo of John Ritter by AP. The following correction ran in USA Today on 10/2/2003: "Tuesday's Forum column about actor John Ritter mischaracterized the marital status of The Mary Tyler Moore Show character Mary Richards. Richards was never married."] |
