Three the Hard Way

They say that celebrity deaths come in threes. Last week we got hit with three whoppers: Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson.

As I was contemplating all the news, hype and hoopla surrounding their deaths, I began thinking about something that they all had in common (besides the obvious): they all had bright shining stars and all had strange, sad ends to their lives.

In Ed McMahon’s case, he had debilitating health problems and was virtually broke. His house was being -foreclosed on; Donald Trump intervened and help him keep his home.

Farrah Fawcett started out as a pinup girl and became a celebrated actress in such films as “The Burning Bed”, “Extremities” and “Small Sacrifices”. She was a gifted dramatic and comedic actress, but those gifts were marred by strange career choices and personal appearances. Her well-documented battle with cancer provided hope for those who struggle with this insidious disease.

Michael Jackson’s meteoric rise and tabloid-centric downfall has been chronicled for years. He was on the verge of a major musical comeback that had fans salivating. I was hoping that he would be able to redeem his image through the concerts and his music. Sadly, this was not meant to be.

I think of this as I continue my writing career. Friends who know me know that I believe that one day I will be sitting beside Oprah in her studio as she praises one of my novels. Her endorsement will lead to untold success. And while I welcome the fame and fortune, I know that it will change my life and the lives of my family. It’s up to me to determine how I handle that success when it comes.

Until then, I will keep writing because it’s what I’ve been called to do. I’ll keep writing because it’s what I love to do. Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson didn’t set out to be superstars or tabloid magnets. They set out to do what they loved to do, what they were passionate about. They worked hard for all they achieved. And when the dust settles, long after they’re gone, I hope that we as fans will remember that; let that be their legacy.

We Interrupt This Program…

Yesterday I was thinking about The Brady Bunch. Yes, the iconic 70’s television series that will never die. For some reason, I was thinking about all those quizzes on Facebook and I thought, “Which Brady kid am I?” My answer was Jan.  Like Jan, I was the smart and funny one, never quite sure of her place in life and always feeling a little like the one that no one noticed, even though everybody did.

The best “Jan” episode was “The New Jan Brady”, the one where blonde Jan decides she’d rather be a brunette to distinguish herself from her other blonde sisters. She purchases this hideous (even for the 70’s) brunette beehive wig and goes to her friend’s party, where everyone laughs and mocks her new look. She runs home in tears only to have brother Peter come home with all the party guests to tell Jan she looked better as a blonde. (Apparently, they thought the wig was some kind of weird joke.) Jan happily goes back to the party and lives in apparent anonymity until she is once again thrust into middle-daughter crisis. (Stay with me, it’s going to get interesting.)

So I was thinking about all this when my dark and twisty* inner writer took hold of it. What if there were a remake of the show? Not the awful where-are-they-now “The Bradys” show. (Now that was a hot mess. Marcia was an alcoholic with a frequently out of work hubby; Jan was infertile and she and hubby adopted a little Korean girl; Cindy was having an affair with her boss; Bobby was a paraplegic after crashing his race car; Peter was a playboy who couldn’t settle down. Only eldest son Greg managed to have a fairly normal non-neurosis life.)

No, my dark and twisty inner writer wanted a remake of the teenage Brady Bunch. (I promise you “90210” – in any form – was not the Brady Bunch reincarnated.) So this is my proposed pilot for the 21^st century Brady Bunch.

Cue music… Here’s the story, of a lovely lady…

Our story is narrated by Alice, the house manager of the Bradys. She is the repository of all the Brady secrets. Alice knows everything but not everyone knows just how much Alice really knows.

Alice knows widower Mike Brady met divorcee Carol Phillips online. They met, married, and brought their respective families into the Brady mansion. Mike is a very successful businessman with large corporate holdings. He’s not above bending (or possibly breaking) the law to get what he wants. There’s been talk that the first Mrs. Brady died under suspicious circumstances. But Mike Brady has enough money and power that no one is willing to investigate.

Carol Phillips-Brady has been married several times and each time, she’s come out exponentially richer. She’s also a functioning alcoholic. She and Mike look good together, but it’s clear that it’s also an act, especially since Carol is lusting after the pool boy. Problem is Mike may be lusting after the pool boy too.

Eldest son Greg is a high school athlete. His dirty secret? He’s on steroids. Anything to be the BMOC and please Papa Brady.

Eldest daughter Marcia is pregnant. She’s not sure if the baby’s father is her secret boyfriend Darnell (who’s Black or Latin) – or her stepbrother Greg. She’s also not sure of what she’s going to do about the pregnancy.

Middle son Peter has a very nasty habit. He’s into online poker in a big way. So far he’s been able to pay off his debts by tapping into his trust fund left to him by his late mother. But he’s getting in way over his head and finding out that his debts are about to be collected – maybe at the expense of brother Greg’s career.

Middle daughter Jan is a straight-A student who puts enormous pressure on herself to break out of the shadow of her elder sister. She’s bulimic and a shopaholic. She uses her money to buy companionship and has trouble distinguishing who her real friends are.

Baby girl Cindy has daddy issues. She’s been sleeping around with much older men. It started when a much older man slept with her when she was much, much younger. Her father? One of her other stepfathers? She’s currently involved with newest stepfather Mike’s best friend. But Mike’s best friend has plans for Cindy – and they’re definitely not nice.

Youngest son Bobby has mommy issues. He wants to know what really happened to his mother on the night she died. He’s been quietly hacking into his father’s computer and learning just how ruthless his dear old dad can be. The secrets he uncovers could take down the Brady family for good – or cost him his life.

So that’s my take on a revamped Brady Bunch. What do you think? Sherwood Schwartz would probably keel over if this ever went on the air.

One day I’m going to do dark and twisty Dora the Explorer. At the very least, it would make a good SNL sketch.

*Yes, I know I stole “dark and twisty” from Shonda Rhimes and Grey’s Anatomy.

Paging Dr. Greene, Dr. Ross, Dr. Benton…

In 1994, the television world was abuzz with two new medical dramas debuting in the fall. One boasted a stellar cast; the other, relative unknowns. The two shows couldn’t be more different if they tried. The only things they had in common were they were both set in Chicago and were going to air on Thursday nights at 9:00 p.m. Who would prevail? The first show premiered on a Sunday night; the second show premiered on Monday for two hours. The real test came the following Thursday night.

“Chicago Hope” lasted 6 seasons. “ER” is wrapping up it’s fifteenth and final season.

Why did “ER” become such a juggernaut, trouncing “Hope” in the ratings? It had a lot to do with the writing and the pace of the show. “Chicago Hope” spent a lot of time on the egos of its doctors and the cases they were treating. (Mandy Patinkin’s Dr. Jeffrey Geiger was a prelude to Dr. House.)

“ER” on the other hand had a fairly gritty realism (much the way Hill Street Blues operated, no pun intended). These were young doctors and nurses who never knew what would come crashing through the doors at any minute. They didn’t have time to indulge in egos (well, Peter Benton did, but he was a surgeon, so…); there was only time to deal with what was in front of them.

I watched both shows. (“Hope” eventually moved to Monday nights.) I really liked “CH”, but it lost a step when Patinkin left. The most moving episode was when Peter MacNicol’s character (the hospital lawyer, nicknamed “The Snake”) was killed. The tribute the staff did (and the set up for Patinkin’s departure) was wonderful and was actually recreated in part by the ER cast after Mekhi Phifer’s Dr. Pratt was also killed off.

Speaking of Dr. Pratt, I can’t remember the last time I cried so hard at an ER episode. When Dr. Greene died, it was anti-climatic because everyone knew he was dying and Anthony Edwards was leaving the show. But Pratt’s death was so hard because I had no idea he was leaving. It was as shocking as Dr. Gallant’s tragic death in Iraq. (And yo, why did all the black male doctors get killed off? Pratt, Gallant, Omar Epps’ character? Only Benton survived. Life was hard in the ER, then you die?)

The women had it rough too. They didn’t die – except for Kellie Martin’s Lucy Knight – but they got shot, got AIDS, got pregnant, got raped, got gay, got widowed, etc. You name it – the women docs got it.

“ER” has had it’s peaks and valleys over the years. The peaks included the first season’s episodes “Blizzard” and the award-winning “Love’s Labor Lost.” “Blizzard” is what sealed the deal for me. When you see how quickly the staff turns from frivolity to dead serious in preparation for the incoming casualties after a major traffic collision and the ensuing chaos, you get what the heart of ER is all about. (It is my singularly favorite ER ep of all time.) And as for “Love’s Labor Lost”? I distinctly remember watching that episode and holding my breath for about 30 minutes. I didn’t die of hypoxia obviously, but I swear I didn’t think I was breathing through each part of the episode until the commercial break.

The valley years for me came at the expense of Goran Visnjic’s Dr. Luka Kovac. Initially brought in as the stud factor replacement for future Oscar-winner George Clooney, Kovac was a sympathetic guy but turned into a complete jackass. During this period, I dropped off ER’s radar, tuning in occasionally when Carter went to Africa and Kovac finally came to his senses.

ER had a really interesting habit of bringing in characters that you couldn’t stand but eventually grew to love. That included, Benton, Kerry Weaver, Rocket Romano, Greg Pratt, Jing-Mae (Deb) Chen, Archie Morris and Angela Bassett’s Dr. Cate Banfield. But now everyone is so likeable. While that’s good, there’s no one around to really push the newbies. Banfield tries, but they (the writers) can’t decide what they want her to be. And it’s too late to find out. The best thing about Romano, Weaver, et al, is that that pushed and pushed the good guys until they pushed back. It always made for good conflict.

And on a side note, it took fifteen years to get a powerhouse like Angela Bassett to come in a run the ER? Kerry Weaver has been gone for years and Kovac left a few years ago. Why didn’t they bring her in then? She would have been good for the cast and the ER staff. And we would have time to really get to know and care about Cate Banfield. Now, she’s just another person walking around and barking orders. You just want her to stop it. Okay maybe I do. But they tried to humanize her but it’s too much too fast. Or should I say, too little, too late. (I could say the same for Laurence Fishburne on CSI, but that’s another rant.)

Well, there are only two eps left. This has been a great season for ER, bringing back most of our favorites. (Yeah, even Dr. Greene, though that was the weakest of the comebacks.) I found it absolutely hilarious seeing Dr. Ross and Carol Hathaway again in the same ep with Carter and Benton (who immediately resumed their weird brotherly relationship) but the four of them never connecting with eath other. I wanted to scream, “Pick up a phone for crap’s sake!” You’d think after all they went through, these folks would have tried to stay in touch.

Okay, they’re not real. I know that. But ER has been a part of my life for fifteen years. I know the characters and their stories (obviously). And come April 2, I will join with millions of others in saying goodbye to a show that has seen me through singlehood, dating, marriage and the birth of my child, several jobs and other good and bad events in my life.

Thursdays at 9 will never be the same.

Zippity Doo-Dah!

I’ve been a Disney movie fan all my life. Though I haven’t seen all their animated movies, I think they’re as good – if not better – than most of the live action flicks being produced. (At least I know when I go, I won’t be mad when the movie is done.) I distinctly remember going to see “Aladdin” with some college girlfriends one Friday night. And when “The Little Mermaid” came out, I went with a roommate and came out singing and dancing to “Under the Sea,” even if I couldn’t remember all the lyrics.

Yet, something troubled me. In all their movies, I rarely saw African-Americans as a main character.

Some would argue that “Lion King” would counter that. Although I love the movie, I have two problems with it: first, with James Earl Jones and the late Madge Sinclair voicing Simba’s parents, why couldn’t they find a suitable black actor to voice Simba? (This isn’t a slam against Jonathan Taylor Thomas or Matthew Broderick who respectively voiced young and adult Simba.) Second, why would the first “black” animated film have to be featuring animals?

I was waiting for the first black HUMAN film.

To be fair, Disney made some terrific strides in their television department. Tia and Tamera Mowery, Raven-Symone, Corbin Bleu and Kyle Massey have had films and shows centering around them. (My son is a huge fan of Corbin Bleu and Jump In.) But still, no black animated theatrical films. Zut alors!

But hold on a minute…

Every so quietly, Disney announced a new addition to their ever popular Princess line.

Wait, wait…

Wait for it…

She’s African-American! And she’s Disney FIRST AMERICAN princess!  (There are those that argue that Pocahantas was the first American princess, but though she’s in the Princess line, she wasn’t a princess, she was a heroine like Mulan.)

Yes, ladies and gents, Disney got off it’s butt and created a brand-spankin’ new princess – Princess Tiana – in a new movie, The Princess and the Frog.It’s due out during this year’s holiday season and along with the requisite movie marketing, there will be a doll (created to look more “realistic”) and all the tchotckes that Disney can crank out. The film stars Tony award-winner Anika Noni Rose (Dreamgirls), Terrence Howard and Oprah Winfrey. (And no, I don’t think she produced it.)

Yes, I will be going to see the film, even if I have to go by myself, though I have enough cousins and nieces that I can drag along with me. And yes, I will be buying a doll for myself.

As thrilled as I am about this news, I’m curious about the lack of publicity surrounding this. If I hadn’t seen the announcement about the doll on Entertainment Tonight, I wouldn’t have known it was happening at all. Maybe when the movie comes out, there will be a bigger hype.

But the real thrill will be seeing girls of all colors lining up at the Disney store demanding all the Princess Tiana merchandise they can sell and the film being a box office smash.

Then I’ll be able sing, “My, oh my, what a wonderful day.”

The Oscars – from the cheap seats

I watched the Oscars last night because there was nothing else better to watch. And I wanted to see Hugh Jackman. I thought he was brilliant and funny. And totally hot. That’s beside the point.

Here are my observations on the good, the bad and the ugly from last night’s telecast:

Hugh Jackman is a very talented person. And far funnier than any other previous Oscar host, except for Billy Crystal and Whoopi Goldberg. Now if they really want to be daring, they need Robin Williams up there. There would need to be a 40-second delay.

I liked the former winners of Oscars in the acting categories coming out and giving tribute to the nominees. The women seemed genuinely touched by (what seemed to be) heartfelt remarks. And then being inducted into “the club” was a great idea.

Segue: Speaking of Whoopi, what the *$()@ was she wearing? Did she just run over to Joann Fabrics and grab something out of the clearance bin and wrap it around herself? She’d have been better coming in jeans or a nice pantsuit. I’ve seen Whoopi dress much better. That was just sad.

Sarah Jessica Parker is auditioning for the Samantha role in the next “SITC” movie. She has to be. Her boobs haven’t been that big since she was breastfeeding. And if she coughed, the Oscars would have had it’s own “wardrobe malfunction.”

Will Smith is a funny guy. But even he couldn’t make those presentations work for something or other.

That little movie in the middle: maybe it’s me, but I don’t get the humor of Seth Rogen and Judd Apatow. Maybe because I’m over the age of 12.

The dance number in the middle: Seriously. Beyonce? GROAN… May it be the last time I hear her sing “At Last.” A friend commented on Facebook that musicals are back as long as Beyonce is in them. Yeah, and no acting is required. And Zach Efron has a great career ahead of him in musical theater and films. His HSM/real-life girlfriend Vanessa Hudgens? Not so much. And that couple from “Mamma Mia” couldn’t even keep up with the track. Pitiful. The weird drumline/hip-hop movies in the middle didn’t work. They were good, but were very strange with everyone dressed from something out of the 1940s. Should have had the HSM cast come out in uniforms. If they really wanted to liven up the Oscars, they should have had Kenny Ortega choreograph that number. That would have been fun.

Cuba Gooding Jr.’s line to Robert Downey Jr. was hilarious. “Quit takin’ the work from the brothas!” Here! Here! “His next role is prinicipal of photography on ‘Shaft.’” RDJ got the joke. Everyone else didn’t.

Those 2008 movie montages? There were about 2.5 seconds of African-Americans in film. Yeah, cuz we weren’t in any of the movies made in 2008 except for say 2.5 seconds from the one Tyler Perry movie that no one saw.

Reese Witherspoon: It’s not nice to imitate the Queen. She wore that dress and she wore it better. Deal with that.

Speaking of the Queen: Ms. Dana Owens made my night. I love the “In Memoriam” section. Her beautiful solo of “I’ll Be Seeing You” masked the awkward instrumental music/awkward applause sections of those who are less known in the community. Whoever put together this montage got it right. By the time the song had reached its final crescendo, the applause had been building right up until Paul Newman’s face graced the stage one last time. It ended on a high note of celebration, even as his words were the last spoken and the spotlight on the stage showed us that someone was missing among us.

Maybe it was me, but I honestly was not moved by Heath Ledger’s family’s acceptance. It was a foregone conclusion. If he’d won last year and they’d have come to accept it, it would have been much more emotional for me. But by now, with all the talk of his estate and who gets the statue, it just was overdone.

On the other hand, Kate Winslet’s speech was so great and full of emotion. Let’s hear it for Dad who whistled so she could find him in the darkened theater to thank him (and the rest of the family) properly!

The guy who balanced the Oscar on his chin? Priceless!

“Domo Origato, Mr. Roboto.” Best acceptance speech. Because I couldn’t understand a word you were saying up to that point.

Sofia Loren may have looked good, but her speech was so boring. For someone who won an acting Oscar, she couldn’t have pulled that speech off if she had a gun to her head. Julia Roberts would have made it work. Shirley Maclaine’s speech to Anne Hathaway nearly had me in tears. Halle looked fabulous (in an almost repeat of her Oscar win dress) but will someone tell Nicole that she needs more color in her face or in her dress?

I’m glad Peter Gabriel didn’t come. John Legend is much more worthy of my time. And he’s gorgeous. I’ve never heard any of the best song nominees, but Legend and the guy singing Jai Ho together was beautiful. And so were the dancers and background singers. I think it was an African Gospel Choir. (I could have sworn a couple of the HSM songs were nominated. They should have been.)

There have been 4 black men who have won the Best Actor Oscars. You mean to tell me that Denzel Washington, Jamie Foxx, Forest Whitaker and Sidney Poitier were all busy that night? None of them could have graced the stage with DeNiro, Hopkins & Michael Douglas? Adrian Brody? Other than kissing Halle Berry, what else has he done? Would you even remember him if it were not for that kiss? You managed to get Whoopi, Cuba and Halle up there, but not one of them could make it. That was insulting.

Slumdog Millionaire. The first and last time I will ever say those two words. Ever. Again.

RIP: Clint & Asa

Yesterday, I learned that actor Clint Ritchie, the original (and best) Clint on “One Life to Live” died on January 29. Today I learned that Phil Carey, the one and only Asa,  also passed away.

Besides being two fine actors, they played the most unique characters on soap operas: they were cowboys. And despite the fact that they were business moguls and titans, when it came down to it, they never stopped being cowboys.

So RIP Clint and Phil. Ride on into the sunset. We’ll miss ya.