Ireneparalegal
06-28-2006, 06:28 PM
Come and knock on our door
'Behind the Camera,'
From NBC, deft look back on 'Three’s Company'
By Dan Jewel
Fans of John Ritter or Joyce DeWitt--you know who you are--beware. The title of NBC’s new made-for-TV movie, “Behind the Camera: The Unauthorized Story of ‘Three’s Company,’” is misleading.
The film, premiering this Monday, May 12, at 9 p.m., should be called “The Suzanne Somers Saga” instead.
DeWitt and Ritter, two-thirds of the cast of the classic ’70s sitcom, are barely present in this telling.
This is surprising, considering that DeWitt introduces “Behind the Camera” (with the deeply analytical statement, “I think the show was a success primarily because it was funny”).
This is also unfortunate. Ritter has had a surprisingly wide-ranging career and is presumably a somewhat interesting human being, and DeWitt, a Shakespearean-trained actress, must have had serious feelings of self-loathing to deal with during the dippy sitcom’s seven-year run. A little more of each of them probably would have been a good thing.
Still, once you get past the basic moral quandary of a project like this--shouldn’t we be doing something more worthwhile than spending two hours immersed in the life of the Thighmaster spokeswoman?--“Behind the Camera” is surprisingly engrossing.
Which NBC apparently realized. The network originally scheduled the movie for April before opting to plant it in far more valuable sweeps month real estate.
On the surface, that seems like a baffling move. Those genuinely obsessed with “Three’s Company”--not in an ironic, winking way--should be fascinated by the subject matter, but others will wonder why they should care about a show so fluffy that it makes “Mr. Personality” seem vital to national security by comparison.
“Behind the Camera” seems to recognize this problem. So rather than focusing on the minutiae of the cast members’ lives or recreating endless scenes of Ritter tripping over the couch, it models itself after the successful 1996 HBO movie “The Late Shift,” which documented the battle over who would succeed Johnny Carson as host of “The Tonight Show.”
Like “The Late Shift,” “Behind the Camera” does a terrific job capturing the sleaziness and callousness of television executives, who stomp all over people in their quest for ratings.
“Behind the Camera” begins in 1975, when no network would touch a sitcom featuring unmarried men and women cohabitating.
But desperation breeds change. When Fred Silverman (Brian Dennehy) takes over as head of ABC, he notes in typically blunt fashion that “other networks refer to us as the Poland of broadcasting.” Seeking something sexy--“this family-friendly stuff is death,” he bellows--he promptly throws “Three’s Company” on the air.
The movie sketches the two supporting stars: DeWitt (Melanie Deanne Moore, whose credits include “Masturbating Co-Ed” in the 2002 teen comedy “Slackers”), the sweet-natured thespian, and Ritter (Bret Anthony), the sweet-natured buffoon. Both actors look the part to an alarming degree, but they’re given so little to do that they practically disappear into the scenery.
The sitcom, with its endless pratfalls and risqué dialogue, is pummeled by critics and embraced by audiences. (So what else is new?) The newly famous stars are thrilled, as we can tell because they do an inordinate amount of giggling and squealing and jumping up and down, in the movie’s most irritating scenes.
But Dennehy barrels through his role as ABC’s resident tyrant, and the movie is nearly thrilling to watch whenever he’s on screen. When his character moves to another network, and Dennehy drops out of the film, it never quite recovers.
Instead it shifts into all-Suzanne, all-the-time territory.
In “The Late Shift,” Jay Leno was portrayed as an innocent dupe nearly destroyed by his Satanic agent, Helen Kushnick. In “Behind the Camera,” Suzanne Somers (Jud Tylor) similarly watches her career self-destruct thanks to the moronic machinations of her husband-turned-manager, Alan Hamel (Christopher Shyer).
Like Kushnick, Hamel comes off as semi-psychotic, demanding a 500 percent salary increase and 10 percent ownership of the show for Somers. His monumental miscalculations eventually get his wife fired from the show.
But Somers is more than a victim; she comes off as both surpassingly stupid and supremely self-centered.
“I don’t want stardom,” she announces, gazing enviously at posters of Farrah Fawcett. “I want superstardom.” She’s oblivious to the feelings of her co-stars, who are ignored by the media as Somers becomes the sitcom’s breakout star. Sitting for an interview, Ritter is peppered with questions like, “What’s it like working with Suzanne Somers? Have you read her poetry?”
“Behind the Camera” takes us through 1984, when “Three’s Company” taped its finale. It fails, unfortunately, to follow up on the most nagging question: How on earth did Somers and Hamel stay married after his staggering idiocy and arrogance nearly torpedoed her career?
But a decade or two from now, when NBC decides to make the inevitable “Friends” behind-the-scenes movie, they’d do well to use this one as a model.
May 9, 2003© 2003 Media Life
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-Dan Jewel is a senior editor at Biography Magazine in New York and a frequent contributor to Media Life.
'Behind the Camera,'
From NBC, deft look back on 'Three’s Company'
By Dan Jewel
Fans of John Ritter or Joyce DeWitt--you know who you are--beware. The title of NBC’s new made-for-TV movie, “Behind the Camera: The Unauthorized Story of ‘Three’s Company,’” is misleading.
The film, premiering this Monday, May 12, at 9 p.m., should be called “The Suzanne Somers Saga” instead.
DeWitt and Ritter, two-thirds of the cast of the classic ’70s sitcom, are barely present in this telling.
This is surprising, considering that DeWitt introduces “Behind the Camera” (with the deeply analytical statement, “I think the show was a success primarily because it was funny”).
This is also unfortunate. Ritter has had a surprisingly wide-ranging career and is presumably a somewhat interesting human being, and DeWitt, a Shakespearean-trained actress, must have had serious feelings of self-loathing to deal with during the dippy sitcom’s seven-year run. A little more of each of them probably would have been a good thing.
Still, once you get past the basic moral quandary of a project like this--shouldn’t we be doing something more worthwhile than spending two hours immersed in the life of the Thighmaster spokeswoman?--“Behind the Camera” is surprisingly engrossing.
Which NBC apparently realized. The network originally scheduled the movie for April before opting to plant it in far more valuable sweeps month real estate.
On the surface, that seems like a baffling move. Those genuinely obsessed with “Three’s Company”--not in an ironic, winking way--should be fascinated by the subject matter, but others will wonder why they should care about a show so fluffy that it makes “Mr. Personality” seem vital to national security by comparison.
“Behind the Camera” seems to recognize this problem. So rather than focusing on the minutiae of the cast members’ lives or recreating endless scenes of Ritter tripping over the couch, it models itself after the successful 1996 HBO movie “The Late Shift,” which documented the battle over who would succeed Johnny Carson as host of “The Tonight Show.”
Like “The Late Shift,” “Behind the Camera” does a terrific job capturing the sleaziness and callousness of television executives, who stomp all over people in their quest for ratings.
“Behind the Camera” begins in 1975, when no network would touch a sitcom featuring unmarried men and women cohabitating.
But desperation breeds change. When Fred Silverman (Brian Dennehy) takes over as head of ABC, he notes in typically blunt fashion that “other networks refer to us as the Poland of broadcasting.” Seeking something sexy--“this family-friendly stuff is death,” he bellows--he promptly throws “Three’s Company” on the air.
The movie sketches the two supporting stars: DeWitt (Melanie Deanne Moore, whose credits include “Masturbating Co-Ed” in the 2002 teen comedy “Slackers”), the sweet-natured thespian, and Ritter (Bret Anthony), the sweet-natured buffoon. Both actors look the part to an alarming degree, but they’re given so little to do that they practically disappear into the scenery.
The sitcom, with its endless pratfalls and risqué dialogue, is pummeled by critics and embraced by audiences. (So what else is new?) The newly famous stars are thrilled, as we can tell because they do an inordinate amount of giggling and squealing and jumping up and down, in the movie’s most irritating scenes.
But Dennehy barrels through his role as ABC’s resident tyrant, and the movie is nearly thrilling to watch whenever he’s on screen. When his character moves to another network, and Dennehy drops out of the film, it never quite recovers.
Instead it shifts into all-Suzanne, all-the-time territory.
In “The Late Shift,” Jay Leno was portrayed as an innocent dupe nearly destroyed by his Satanic agent, Helen Kushnick. In “Behind the Camera,” Suzanne Somers (Jud Tylor) similarly watches her career self-destruct thanks to the moronic machinations of her husband-turned-manager, Alan Hamel (Christopher Shyer).
Like Kushnick, Hamel comes off as semi-psychotic, demanding a 500 percent salary increase and 10 percent ownership of the show for Somers. His monumental miscalculations eventually get his wife fired from the show.
But Somers is more than a victim; she comes off as both surpassingly stupid and supremely self-centered.
“I don’t want stardom,” she announces, gazing enviously at posters of Farrah Fawcett. “I want superstardom.” She’s oblivious to the feelings of her co-stars, who are ignored by the media as Somers becomes the sitcom’s breakout star. Sitting for an interview, Ritter is peppered with questions like, “What’s it like working with Suzanne Somers? Have you read her poetry?”
“Behind the Camera” takes us through 1984, when “Three’s Company” taped its finale. It fails, unfortunately, to follow up on the most nagging question: How on earth did Somers and Hamel stay married after his staggering idiocy and arrogance nearly torpedoed her career?
But a decade or two from now, when NBC decides to make the inevitable “Friends” behind-the-scenes movie, they’d do well to use this one as a model.
May 9, 2003© 2003 Media Life
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-Dan Jewel is a senior editor at Biography Magazine in New York and a frequent contributor to Media Life.