TMC
05-06-2022, 05:58 AM
https://melmagazine.com/en-us/story/kevin-james-home-team-netflix
He joked about being overweight, hating waterskiing and dealing with annoying answering-machines messages. (Hey, it was the 1990s.) His appeal was his affability, his self-deprecating manner, his everyman schlub-iness. James built that into a career, eventually meeting Ray Romano, a fellow comic who had a somewhat similar persona and turned it into an Emmy-winning sitcom, Everybody Loves Raymond. I still remember in 2003, when Raymond took home the prize for Outstanding Comedy Series, how Phil Rosenthal recalled from the stage that a network executive early in the show’s run asked him impatiently what they were trying to do with this series. “We’re trying to do a traditional, old-fashioned, classic, well-made type of sitcom,” Rosenthal explained. The executive’s response: “All words we should be avoiding.”
Raymond was perhaps the last great three-camera family sitcom, and because James had worked on the show — and even appeared in an episode — he ended up getting his own series, King of Queens. It somewhat followed the Raymond blueprint, but there were notable differences. Doug and Carrie didn’t have kids, and Doug’s job was far more blue-collar. It was decidedly a working-class home, one that was frequently upended by Carrie’s father Arthur (Jerry Stiller). But one thing that Queens shared with Raymond was that their stars were the least-seasoned actors in their respective ensembles.
“I was definitely the weak link for sure as far as acting was concerned on the show.” James once admitted (https://redirect.viglink.com/?format=go&jsonp=vglnk_165183106713813&key=c7da82fd9416e8a876a73341c6cfdc1e&libId=l2u9hiue0103gjx7000DLf768ct8f&loc=https%3A%2F%2Fmelmagazine.com%2Fen-us%2Fstory%2Fkevin-james-home-team-netflix&ccpaConsent=1YN-&v=1&out=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.phillyvoice.com%2Fkevin-james-being-weak-link-king-queens%2F&ref=https%3A%2F%2Fmelmagazine.com%2Fen-us%2Ftag%2Fmisleading-men&title=Kevin%20James%20Was%20America%E2%80%99s%20Everyman.%20Then%20America%20Changed%20Its%20Mind&txt=once%20admitted). “Leah and Jerry had done a crazy amount of things. Leah had done so much stuff. It was my first gig. I learned a lot through it.”
King of Queens was an extension of James’ standup self, presenting Doug as basically a good guy who gets annoyed by the daily annoyances of life. That said, the show wasn’t just Doug being a doofus and Carrie being the long-suffering spouse — it wasn’t that simplistic. (In fact, Remini did a good job of showing how flawed and petty Carrie could be, too, with Doug sometimes having to put up with her quirks.) Still, you could easily peg King of Queens as a “fat husband/pretty wife” sitcom — after all, there was no way a delivery-driving oaf like Doug could possibly land a beauty such as Carrie, right? But at its best, the show transcended that impression.
He joked about being overweight, hating waterskiing and dealing with annoying answering-machines messages. (Hey, it was the 1990s.) His appeal was his affability, his self-deprecating manner, his everyman schlub-iness. James built that into a career, eventually meeting Ray Romano, a fellow comic who had a somewhat similar persona and turned it into an Emmy-winning sitcom, Everybody Loves Raymond. I still remember in 2003, when Raymond took home the prize for Outstanding Comedy Series, how Phil Rosenthal recalled from the stage that a network executive early in the show’s run asked him impatiently what they were trying to do with this series. “We’re trying to do a traditional, old-fashioned, classic, well-made type of sitcom,” Rosenthal explained. The executive’s response: “All words we should be avoiding.”
Raymond was perhaps the last great three-camera family sitcom, and because James had worked on the show — and even appeared in an episode — he ended up getting his own series, King of Queens. It somewhat followed the Raymond blueprint, but there were notable differences. Doug and Carrie didn’t have kids, and Doug’s job was far more blue-collar. It was decidedly a working-class home, one that was frequently upended by Carrie’s father Arthur (Jerry Stiller). But one thing that Queens shared with Raymond was that their stars were the least-seasoned actors in their respective ensembles.
“I was definitely the weak link for sure as far as acting was concerned on the show.” James once admitted (https://redirect.viglink.com/?format=go&jsonp=vglnk_165183106713813&key=c7da82fd9416e8a876a73341c6cfdc1e&libId=l2u9hiue0103gjx7000DLf768ct8f&loc=https%3A%2F%2Fmelmagazine.com%2Fen-us%2Fstory%2Fkevin-james-home-team-netflix&ccpaConsent=1YN-&v=1&out=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.phillyvoice.com%2Fkevin-james-being-weak-link-king-queens%2F&ref=https%3A%2F%2Fmelmagazine.com%2Fen-us%2Ftag%2Fmisleading-men&title=Kevin%20James%20Was%20America%E2%80%99s%20Everyman.%20Then%20America%20Changed%20Its%20Mind&txt=once%20admitted). “Leah and Jerry had done a crazy amount of things. Leah had done so much stuff. It was my first gig. I learned a lot through it.”
King of Queens was an extension of James’ standup self, presenting Doug as basically a good guy who gets annoyed by the daily annoyances of life. That said, the show wasn’t just Doug being a doofus and Carrie being the long-suffering spouse — it wasn’t that simplistic. (In fact, Remini did a good job of showing how flawed and petty Carrie could be, too, with Doug sometimes having to put up with her quirks.) Still, you could easily peg King of Queens as a “fat husband/pretty wife” sitcom — after all, there was no way a delivery-driving oaf like Doug could possibly land a beauty such as Carrie, right? But at its best, the show transcended that impression.