Zoneboy
07-13-2009, 03:03 PM
Never trust the Internet.
According to various online sources, Joyce DeWitt, leggy, raven-haired starlet of juggernaut '70s sitcom Three's Company, spent her pre-Hollywood years as a contractor who, after painting the garage of Barney Miller co-star Abe Vigoda, became a sort of surrogate daughter to the actor.
"It's totally untrue. I've never even met Abe Vigoda," says the actress, on the line from her home in Santa Fe, N.M.
"I never painted his house, his garage or any other thing he has. I often wonder if he thinks I'm this crazy person who made all of this up."
This and other Wikipedia-tainted rumours (for the record, she never dated Roots star LeVar Burton, nor is she the niece of TV actress Fay DeWitt) are part of a larger mystery surrounding the long-M.I.A. DeWitt who, after serving time as one of the disco generation's top TV female role models, virtually disappeared from the spotlight, only to resurface recently as the subject of fresh, far less glamorous online attention.
Last week, news items began circulating on gossip websites about her July 4 impaired dirving arrest, accompanied by a less-than-flattering mugshot featuring the actress looking wild-eyed, teary and dishevelled. According to her publicist, she was released on her own recognizance. No bail was set, although some websites reported that it was set at $5,000.
DeWitt declined to comment on the incident. But when she sat down for an interview mere days before her arrest, she was charming, composed and willing to talk about her post-TV life and slow return to acting after a self-imposed exile. She'll be in Calgary next month starring in the Stage West production of the comedy Married Alive!. She also has a part in an indie movie called Failing Better Now that is making the rounds on the film festival circuit.
From 1977 to 1984, DeWitt – along with Suzanne Sommers and the late John Ritter – made up the cast of the saucy, screwball ABC show whose influence on pop culture still resonates today (it has never been out of syndication and is a top DVD seller).
And with the recent sting of losing decade-defining beauty Farrah Fawcett to cancer, it seems as though that era has truly met its end.
De Witt once shared air time on the same network as the iconic Charlie's Angels sex symbol, and she remembers the late actress fondly.
"She had a beautiful heart," says DeWitt of Fawcett. "She was a lovely human being and such a brave woman, right up to her final moments. She chose to share her circumstances, her illness, with the world in order that those who had similar circumstances would be enlightened and inspired, and I have a great deal of respect for the way she left this life."
Three's Company featured DeWitt as the sensible, sexy Janet Wood, who along with her roommates – buxom ditzy blond Chrissy (Sommers) and loveably klutzy chef Jack (Ritter) – live, laugh and (platonically) love in a small Santa Monica apartment. The series traded on sexual stereotypes (Jack had to play gay in front of his landlord in order to stay living with the girls) and racy double entendres that, at the time, caused many a mainstream TV critic to recoil. But its fans consider the show a first-rate sophisticated ensemble comedy.
"All we were trying to do is make America sit down and laugh their butt off," DeWitt says. "Or, as John would say, laugh so hard that they fall off the couch.
"You loved these characters, you wanted to spend time with them, to see what they'd do next.
"I mean, sitcoms shouldn't be doing Saturday Night Live. You can't just do bit after bit after bit. You have to string it together with tight writing and performances. Hollywood seems to have forgotten how to do this."
The much-publicized behind-the-scenes drama of Three's Company centred squarely on Sommers and her quest for Fawcett-esque fame as a small screen pin-up queen. This led to an uncomfortable and bitter exit (she was replaced by Jenilee Harrison and, later, Priscilla Barnes).
Adding to the glut of misinformation circling about DeWitt is ample ink about an equally well-publicized battle that still stands between her and Sommers. That rumour is another misrepresentation, she says.
"I rarely talk about this, but we never actually had an argument. After her fight with the producers, as part of her publicity tour to make herself seem innocent, she made John and I the enemy."
DeWitt says she has tried in vain to heal the breach.
"Several times over the past 20 years I've left messages, notes, letters, and have given her the phone number for the phone that rings right beside my bed, but she has never chosen to reach me, and, yet, publicly and in the press, she still tells people that I don't speak to her."
When in 1984 Three's Company finally answered the last knock on its door, DeWitt – who was a veteran in theatre before accidentally ending up in Hollywood – chose to travel the world and pursue a life of spiritual enlightenment.
"I really felt that Three's Company was a gift," she says. "When it ended, I had money in the bank and had the luxury to pursue a life that meant something, to learn and discover. Hollywood can be brutal, inhuman, the opposite of what the theatre is and I had little desire to be part of it. But now, I'm excited to work again and to, at my age, be able to keep working."
Truman Capote once wrote that life is a moderately good play with a badly written third act. With any luck, DeWitt's recent troubles and public embarrassment won't become the defining denouement of her career.
http://www.thestar.com/entertainment/article/664348
According to various online sources, Joyce DeWitt, leggy, raven-haired starlet of juggernaut '70s sitcom Three's Company, spent her pre-Hollywood years as a contractor who, after painting the garage of Barney Miller co-star Abe Vigoda, became a sort of surrogate daughter to the actor.
"It's totally untrue. I've never even met Abe Vigoda," says the actress, on the line from her home in Santa Fe, N.M.
"I never painted his house, his garage or any other thing he has. I often wonder if he thinks I'm this crazy person who made all of this up."
This and other Wikipedia-tainted rumours (for the record, she never dated Roots star LeVar Burton, nor is she the niece of TV actress Fay DeWitt) are part of a larger mystery surrounding the long-M.I.A. DeWitt who, after serving time as one of the disco generation's top TV female role models, virtually disappeared from the spotlight, only to resurface recently as the subject of fresh, far less glamorous online attention.
Last week, news items began circulating on gossip websites about her July 4 impaired dirving arrest, accompanied by a less-than-flattering mugshot featuring the actress looking wild-eyed, teary and dishevelled. According to her publicist, she was released on her own recognizance. No bail was set, although some websites reported that it was set at $5,000.
DeWitt declined to comment on the incident. But when she sat down for an interview mere days before her arrest, she was charming, composed and willing to talk about her post-TV life and slow return to acting after a self-imposed exile. She'll be in Calgary next month starring in the Stage West production of the comedy Married Alive!. She also has a part in an indie movie called Failing Better Now that is making the rounds on the film festival circuit.
From 1977 to 1984, DeWitt – along with Suzanne Sommers and the late John Ritter – made up the cast of the saucy, screwball ABC show whose influence on pop culture still resonates today (it has never been out of syndication and is a top DVD seller).
And with the recent sting of losing decade-defining beauty Farrah Fawcett to cancer, it seems as though that era has truly met its end.
De Witt once shared air time on the same network as the iconic Charlie's Angels sex symbol, and she remembers the late actress fondly.
"She had a beautiful heart," says DeWitt of Fawcett. "She was a lovely human being and such a brave woman, right up to her final moments. She chose to share her circumstances, her illness, with the world in order that those who had similar circumstances would be enlightened and inspired, and I have a great deal of respect for the way she left this life."
Three's Company featured DeWitt as the sensible, sexy Janet Wood, who along with her roommates – buxom ditzy blond Chrissy (Sommers) and loveably klutzy chef Jack (Ritter) – live, laugh and (platonically) love in a small Santa Monica apartment. The series traded on sexual stereotypes (Jack had to play gay in front of his landlord in order to stay living with the girls) and racy double entendres that, at the time, caused many a mainstream TV critic to recoil. But its fans consider the show a first-rate sophisticated ensemble comedy.
"All we were trying to do is make America sit down and laugh their butt off," DeWitt says. "Or, as John would say, laugh so hard that they fall off the couch.
"You loved these characters, you wanted to spend time with them, to see what they'd do next.
"I mean, sitcoms shouldn't be doing Saturday Night Live. You can't just do bit after bit after bit. You have to string it together with tight writing and performances. Hollywood seems to have forgotten how to do this."
The much-publicized behind-the-scenes drama of Three's Company centred squarely on Sommers and her quest for Fawcett-esque fame as a small screen pin-up queen. This led to an uncomfortable and bitter exit (she was replaced by Jenilee Harrison and, later, Priscilla Barnes).
Adding to the glut of misinformation circling about DeWitt is ample ink about an equally well-publicized battle that still stands between her and Sommers. That rumour is another misrepresentation, she says.
"I rarely talk about this, but we never actually had an argument. After her fight with the producers, as part of her publicity tour to make herself seem innocent, she made John and I the enemy."
DeWitt says she has tried in vain to heal the breach.
"Several times over the past 20 years I've left messages, notes, letters, and have given her the phone number for the phone that rings right beside my bed, but she has never chosen to reach me, and, yet, publicly and in the press, she still tells people that I don't speak to her."
When in 1984 Three's Company finally answered the last knock on its door, DeWitt – who was a veteran in theatre before accidentally ending up in Hollywood – chose to travel the world and pursue a life of spiritual enlightenment.
"I really felt that Three's Company was a gift," she says. "When it ended, I had money in the bank and had the luxury to pursue a life that meant something, to learn and discover. Hollywood can be brutal, inhuman, the opposite of what the theatre is and I had little desire to be part of it. But now, I'm excited to work again and to, at my age, be able to keep working."
Truman Capote once wrote that life is a moderately good play with a badly written third act. With any luck, DeWitt's recent troubles and public embarrassment won't become the defining denouement of her career.
http://www.thestar.com/entertainment/article/664348