NORMAN LEAR

Fellow age-adjacent boomer Jimmy Kimmel did our nation a great service by paying tribute to Norman Lear. Fortunately, Mr. Lear lived to 101 years of age allowing him to participate in re-stagings of some of his best sitcom episodes. It was strange to witness the resurgence of interest in this as it made clear how his works had been sort of lost in the downtime of changing cultural tastes and priorities. That aside, Norman Lear made me a better person. 

Lear, like my older parents, was part of the greatest generation. However, he differed from so many of his veteran peers in San Antonio (Military City USA) based on his uber-liberal stances. As a result, this only child barricaded himself in his bedroom awash in a world brought to me with a live audience from CBS Studio City. (Carol Burnett was always available however in the main living room TV.) I was able to express to Mr. Lear—when I met him ten years ago in Austin—how the Archie Bunker/Meathead mirrored my relationship with my father. In a more south Texas upper middle-class waspish way. Of course, it was inspired by Lear and his father, in a New York, lower middle-class Jewish household. As I aged, the shock and awe of the televised fireworks of liberal Mike and conservative Archie—decades from the initial jolt, bad language, and all—mellowed into an understanding of the true themes borne of the dynamics of the father and son. This was never so apparent as in the episode where Archie and Mike get drunk together in a locked storeroom. My emotional reactions were verified when Lear himself proclaimed this his favorite episode as he teared up rewatching it in a documentary of his life. 

There is no doubt of the historical significance of Lear’s revolution in content and style of television sitcoms. And there is no doubt that his intentions were pure and noble. I recently read a book called The Rube Tube (regarding the trees being cut town in CBS sitcoms) which reiterated the complicated fact that “All in the Family” was the number one rated program for five years because half the audience related to Bunker’s racist malapropisms. They thought he spoke their language and didn’t get the satire. That makes sense. The book went scarily farther in positing that higher ups at the networks anticipated this and therefore welcomed the idea of a bigot who was cuddly and had moments of humanity. So, in some ways the strategy mirrored our current times when far-right zealots can be coddled as a, well, demographic. Another complication with Lear’s programs revolves around stereotypes. Once again, the producer’s intentions are laudable for giving voice and character to marginalized communities. However, the buffoonery exhibited by JJ Evans or Grady Wilson or Aunt Esther seems rather a throwback to Amos n Andy days. The gay characters were often overly foppish. (Ironically, a cartoon version of All in the Family created by Hanna-Barbera, “Wait Til Your Father Gets Home, ”frighteningly follows this to an animated extreme.) Regardless of Lear’s newfound revival, it is rather odd to witness the un-pc element of his work.

 One thing Lear did that got lost in our social evolution is the ability to satirize in an equal manner though. Not by degrading characterizations but by human frailty common to all. Fred Sanford and George Jefferson were as homophobic and xenophobic as Bunker was. And this is what sets the 70’s work apart from sterile complication-free attempts at racial conciliation that have resulted from a backlash against nuance. 

There were three styles in sitcoms in the 70s. three-camera setups in front of a studio audience were the new norm. Norman Lear was the first to use videotape, promoting more artificial lighting and set design. This left the viewer feeling as if at a stage play. The acting could tend to be broader, the dramatic interludes more melodramatic. And when Lear’s partner Bud Yorkin show-ran NBC’s “Sanford and Son,” the audience applause at each actor’s entrance added to the artificiality. The flip side were the Mary Tyler Moore/Grant Tinker series. Shot on film, the studio audience rarely gasped at shocks or shrieked at catchphrases. The acting was way more subtle and subdued. And Garry Marshall’s output—despite the quality format, also film with musical intertitles and transitions (like MTM)—catered to a younger audience and took studio audience interactions to almost grotesque levels from Fonzie to Mork. All three of these were part of the fabric of my life. The sounds, music, “feel” of these are as comforting as a quilt blanket on a cold morning.

 The “live” feeling of Lear’s shows gave it an immediacy which I appreciated so much as a media-hungry kid. Especially pre-1975 when CBS Studio City was home to most of the TAT shows. When Mr. Lear moved all to the Metromedia Square-for no reason I can imagine-the feel was different. Of course, “Sanford and Son” was taped at NBC studios giving it as much of that essence—right next door to Johnny Carson. Norman Lear dealt with serious topics unlike any other sitcom (even to this day.) When an MTM show had a serious moment there was always a beat of comedy to bring the audience back. Most times, Lear’s comedies would linger on those moments without any levity and the shows rarely age well, coming across as a Sunday morning episode of “Insight” (probably the most obscure reference I could throw out). One of my favorite episodes of AITF depicts the Bunkers having a draft dodger at Christmas dinner. That episode was near perfect in the mixture of human drama and human comedy. That was sadly rare. “Sanford and Son” had very little input from Lear and was pretty much a vaudeville show with all serious issues thrown out for a laugh. 

 Lear was also involved in motion pictures and directed “Cold Turkey” with Dick Van Dyke and Bob Newhart (both still with us) is an almost cruel but effective satire a bit ahead of its time but still at the right time. He also hosted an episode of SNL during its premiere season. Allow me to touch a bit on Lear’s shows individually and their personal impact.

 “All in the Family” is a masterpiece for the reasons cited above and a huge influence of my life. My father was savvy enough to avoid the show for its bitter ironies hitting too close to home. Thank God I had a TV set in my room. When the “kids” moved next door and baby Joey was born, the show took a hit in audience and direction (John Rich left by then to launch "Barney Miller.) By the final season-- Fonzie and Vinnie Barbarino were taking the oxygen out of the sitcom room, MTM was history—the Bunkers and Stivics flew out with an Emmy winning season of quality stories and acting. Then star Carroll O’Connor took over, making archie an even more loveable bigot. They adopt a niece then Archie buys the bar then Edith passes then Archie has a houseful of young women and becomes a sage for all the disenfranchised and remains the ignorant small-minded oaf with his beer drinking buddies. O’Connor also chose to screen pre-taped shows in front of a studio audience lessening the timing of the, horribly evolved overacting. Four years later, at the end of “Archie Bunker’s Place” Bunker and his minions were simply “urban Mayberry.” And then Gloria is spun off in a show where she works for a vet in the country. Oh, well. 

“Sanford and Son, like AITF is a surefire provider of laughs. Most of the acting provided by star Redd Foxx’s buddies from extra-blue nightclub routines was rough but still hilarious. Foxx himself provided one of the best characters on TV, rivaling O’Connor’s crotchety middle-aged counterpart. Show runner Aaron Ruben ("Gomer Pyle") allowed the show to rely on pratfalls rather than shocks. Daily stripping on NBC’s morning schedule inured me to the show by exposure adding to the Friday night appointment viewing until 1977. Foxx tried to bring back Sanford to no audience in the early 80s. Fred Sanford and Archie Bunker both unfortunately hung around a bit too long. 

“Maude.” My mom told me how everyone at her office talked about it in its first season. Even more controversial that AITF. Bea Arthur’s portrayal of Edith’s cousin in and episode at the Bunker household was so well-received that it led to another Lear hit. Once again nuance was key. Based on Lear’s wife, Maude was a crusading liberal but showed a philosophical hypocrisy when overplaying her hand trying to be the “good one.” The scripts were sharp, but the show was Arthur’s. Her characterization and comic timing were superb. The theatricality was at a high level with many Broadway actors rounding out the cast. The upper middle class white life here (which included a bigoted doctor) was a good representation of the cocktail club swingers—drinks always flowing. Sex was a hot topic along with alcoholism and spousal abuse and the big one, abortion. After the ratings fell, Maude was going to continue in more of a political comedy as she goes to Washington, but she quit, and the format changed many times ending up as a summer show about a college campus. 

“Good Times.” Lear’s first spinoff of a spinoff. Esther Rolle, as Maude’s housekeeper was quickly whisked off to Chicago in her own show. Created by Mike Evans, who played Lionel on AITF, this series was to show life in the ghetto. Much like the Bunkers, how does this family deal with the struggles of modern life—this time as a Black family struggling to get by. Once again, this show was part of my life, but in hindsight the drama and comedy mix uncomfortably. When Fonzie started besting  the Evans in the ratings, the producers—mostly white—decided to elevate son JJ (comic Jimmie Walker) into a catchphrase superstar to rival the ABC icons. Evans and his people left the show, there were cast defections (John Amos’s father was killed off, Esther Rolle left and came back.) and the mostly older, white showrunners completely lost touch with what the show was about. The three kids became the constants, but extraneous situations and characters just hurt the show as it stumbled into its final season with story wrap-ups that were as far from reality as the Garry Marshal oeuvre. 

“The Jeffersons.” Once again, lear was toying with genres. Here, he took the “Beverly Hillbillies” and molded it into a socio-political experiment. As the Bunker’s neighbors “moved on up,” the show started with great biting comedy: George and Louise adapting to the white high-rise snobs; the hilarious alcoholic Mother Jefferson; George’s reactions to their best friends, the mixed-race couple—never acknowledged as one of Lear’s greatest triumphs. And one of the reasons for that is that the show lasted way to long. In the late seventies, the show lost in the ratings. It was saved by being rescheduled in the hit post-60 minutes Sunday night comedy lineup with other past-their-prime Lear shows. The satire was gone and for five years into the eighties, the show continued miraculously to high ratings and renewed fandom. “The Jeffersons” had become “little” George and “fat” Tom Willis doing Laurel and Hardy routines and Louise and Helen Willis performing Lucy and Ethel antics. With a celebrity guest stars and an occasional sobering moment. Nicholl-Ross-West, the show runners who started as writers on the Bunker’s best episodes let this show tank. Their other show was “Three’s Company.” There you go.  The same thing happened on non-Lear "Alice" which by 1985 was unwatchable.

“One Day at a Time.” Being the same age as the Cooper girls made this show very relevant and eye-opening for my sheltered  existence as a kid during the wild 70s. As this show was revived recently to high acclaim, the original rivalled "Good Times" in its didactic dramatic moments. Bonnie Franklin’s divorced mom Ann was often overly theatric and it telegraphed horribly. Pat Harrington’s Schneider seemed unbelievable and out of time. Perhaps the best comedy came from Valerie Bertinelli, who along with Franklin and Harrington stayed through the entire run. Her chops were sadly overlooked. Episodes are enjoyed in a nostalgic way, much like a PG13 rated "Brady Bunch." I often wonder if this show would have made it had it not been slotted after "M*A*S*H" for many years. And then it moves to the super Sunday schedule (see above) and it becomes the “My Three Sons” of the eighties with births, deaths, grandmas, adoptions, more births, weddings, divorces, college comedy, musical shows all with the out of place Schneider always around. This show was never laugh out loud funny to me but became even less so. 

“Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman.” Lear’s lampooning of consumer culture through a spoof soap opera was historic. This daily show has been analyzed ad infinitum. I recently watched the entire year and a half of episodes. It got tiresome. When I first watched episodes in the 70s before the local affiliate cancelled it due to the content, it seemed otherworldly without a studio audience. Are you supposed to laugh here or not? The show was a mindf… to put it lightly. In hindsight, I can see how this show was an early “stoner” classic. Lines were flubbed, timing was off. Of course, the shooting schedule was horrific and star Louise Lasser had substance abuse issues of her own. Mary Kay Place came out as a star even with a singing career as her character Loretta. Dabney Coleman, Doris Roberts, James Cromwell, and Martin Mull all passed through. Some characters stayed on until their usefulness passed and it felt like storylines were forced out of desperation. I would agree with co-creator Ann Marcus in that Dody Goodman’s Martha wore out her welcome by the end of the first season. But like all of Lear’s landmark creations, history was made in the world of television. And that’s what is important. 

As much of a hit maker as lear was, he created a few that didn’t make it:

“Hot l Baltimore”. ABC needed to redeem itself for turning down the Bunkers originally by programming this series based on a racy stage play. Bringing back the opening warnings about content that AITF had, the show delved into pretty much all taboo subjects. ABC wasn’t the one by then though sadly. James Cromwell, Conchata Farrell, Richard Masur, Charlotte Rae and other Lear favorites rounded out the huge cast. 

“The Dumplings” NBC attempted to give Lear a platform to examine overweight people…another marginalized community. And make them lovable, in love, cuddly deli owners on Wall Street. Great theme song, overly stagy series. 

“Nancy Walker Show” After Nancy Walker, doing everything in the seventies, left “Rhoda” ABC signed her up for her own show and got lear behind it. Moving from the east coast landscapes to Hollywood gave him a chance to lampoon another part of the country. Walker played a talent agent. Her assistant was one of the first regular gay characters in a sitcom. The show failed and Garry Marshall picked her up for the abrupt "Happy Days" semi-spin of “Blansky’s Beauties” set in Las Vegas. The next year she was back on MTM’s "Rhoda."

 “All’s Fair” this was one of Lear’s most prophetic series. Paired with "Maude" on Monday nights, this one starred Richard Crenna and Bernadette Peters and two Washington DC players of different ages and political beliefs falling in love. This became common schtick in political wonk porn years later. It did last a full season. 

“Fernwood 2-Night” was the summer replacement for Mary Hartman. It was a talk show spoof with Martin Mull and Fred Willard. Hard to find but some of the most subversive stuff Mr. Lear ever did. 

“A Year At the Top’. This summer series was strange. Paul Schaffer and Greg Evigan played to aspiring musicians who sell their soul to the devil (played comically by Gabe Dell) to make it in the biz. Don Kirschner also was involved. I’m not kidding.

 “All That Glitters.” Here, Lear tried to copy the syndicated serial format of Mary Hartman with the story of a business world run by women. Men were sex objects. Interesting concept that just didn’t work.

“In the Beginning” McLean Stevenson left "MASH", and like Nancy Walker couldn’t find a home. He landed with lear on his second post-Henry Blake journey as a Catholic priest in an inner-city mission with a feisty young liberal nun. Three weeks.

 “Apple Pie” Lear took Rue Mclanahan (from cancelled Maude) and Dabney Coleman (from Mary Hartman) and placed them in the depression years. Somehow ABC thought this concept would blend in with their all-new T and A schedule but, three weeks, was it? 

“Hanging In” This was the fallout from the ever-evolving home for the detritus left from Maude’s political career after Bea Arthur called it quits. Just google it to find the history, it’s quite interesting and once again calls into question the characterization of African Americans in Lear’s sitcom world. 

“The Baxters”. Lear took a local concept and nationalized it. Basically, a sitcom family deals with an issue and a studio audience talks about it. 

“AKA Pablo” Lear’s comeback in 1984. Paul Rodriguez is Latino comic dealing with his traditional family. A little late, as James Komack checked that history making box with "Chico and the Man."

“Sunday Dinner.” Robert Loggia played the widower dad and his daughter (Teri Hatcher) spoke with God. 

“Powers That Be”. The political satire that lear was meant to make in the 70s. a brilliant cast: John Forsythe, Holland Taylor, David Hyde Pierce, Peter McNichol, Joseph Gordon-Leavitt. One of Lear’s funniest and the first Lear show my dad watched.  Did I mention it was during the Clinton years?

“704 Hauser Street” John Amos never gave up on Norman Lear after a history of disagreements. Here he is a traditionally liberal blue collar African American man living in the post-Bunker Queens house. In another prescient twist his son is a Rush Limbaugh follower married to a white woman (Maura Tierney). This one had promise but it was the age of Seinfeld and Friends.

 I rarely think of “Diff’rent Strokes” and “Facts of Life” and McLean Stevenson’s third failed attempt at revival “Hello, Larry” as Lear shows. They were produced by his company, but the quality of these shows paled in comparison even to the tired drawn out exits of his past hits. 

 But Norman Lear is a true patriot, a great American, a brilliant satirist and changed my life!! Thanks, and RIP.