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Farewell, Polonia
Monday, April 27th, 2009 03:41 pm.
From Slate.com:
...Bea Arthur's death makes me think about another thing, besides abortion, that's missing from network television: grown ups. I was a kid when The Golden Girls aired, but it was a favorite show of my grandmother's and I watched some of it at her house in Florida, on a set of coral sheets, a few miles from where the Girls supposedly lived. Dorothy, the character Arthur played, was the commanding, scathing, tall one—the straight woman in a house full of lovable wackadoos. Dorothy was extremely, continuously, witheringly judgmental. And though this word has come to be used as an insult ("Don't be so judgey!"), it was this quality, one Arthur oozed, and one that Dorothy shared with Maude, that made those two characters both indelible and admirable, if more than occasionally insufferable.
Maude and Dorothy had opinions. They had opinions about everything. If society, or one's roommates, was behaving badly, it was a person's duty to tell them so even if they didn't want to hear it. Perhaps it wasn't a person's duty to dispatch friends and neighbors quite as scathingly as Maude and Dorothy often did, but then, being right, doing right, was more important than being nice. Niceness was not one of their major concerns. They cared too much to be nice. They cared too much to modulate their judgment.
Looking over the TV landscape, it's hard to find a character, male or female, with this kind of conviction, and certainly not in a comedy. (It's hard to find anyone who even looks like Arthur, who got to be famous when she was already gray, a trick since pulled off by George Clooney and Anderson Cooper, but not by another woman). The socially conscious Norman Lear sitcoms that dominated the 1970s (Maude, All in The Family, Good Times, The Jeffersons, and more) by grappling with racism, sexism, class and most other -isms have disappeared and, with them, the fully engaged bleeding hearts, bigots and pioneers they starred. Since Golden Girls went off the air, there have been few shows about middle aged people, almost none about senior citizens. Sex and The City, the series that spawned a thousand copycats (SATC with black women, SATC with dudes, SATC for network TV, SATC with three), is really just a copy of Golden Girls (sexually adventurous Blanche is Samantha, sweet naive Rose is Charlotte, etc. etc.) i.e. Golden Girls with 30-somethings. On TV right now, there's nowhere Maude or Dorothy would fit in.
That's not to say either Maude or the Golden Girls is perfect television. Certain old movies momentarily make me feel like the space-time continuum has collapsed. Any notion that we have advanced, become smarter, more modern, more knowing, evaporates upon watching Casablanca—the only thing we know now that we didn't know then is how to film in color. Neither Maude nor the Golden Girls gives me that sense. They're dated, they're earnest, they're not always funny (though, sometimes, happily, they are), the laugh track grates. Yet in both of these shows there's at least person I'd really like to see more of—and maybe not just on TV. She's smart, she's imperious, she doesn't suffer fools, she's engaged with the larger world, she's engaged with her friends, she has opinions she will share, that she will advocate for, that she believes in, and if you banged your head and ended up in the hospital you'd be happy if she was the person they called. She's an adult. She's Bea Arthur.
--------------------------------------------------
This above all: to thine ownself be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-- William Shakespeare
Thanks for the moxie, madam.
You were an inspiration to a generation.
.
From Slate.com:
...Bea Arthur's death makes me think about another thing, besides abortion, that's missing from network television: grown ups. I was a kid when The Golden Girls aired, but it was a favorite show of my grandmother's and I watched some of it at her house in Florida, on a set of coral sheets, a few miles from where the Girls supposedly lived. Dorothy, the character Arthur played, was the commanding, scathing, tall one—the straight woman in a house full of lovable wackadoos. Dorothy was extremely, continuously, witheringly judgmental. And though this word has come to be used as an insult ("Don't be so judgey!"), it was this quality, one Arthur oozed, and one that Dorothy shared with Maude, that made those two characters both indelible and admirable, if more than occasionally insufferable.
Maude and Dorothy had opinions. They had opinions about everything. If society, or one's roommates, was behaving badly, it was a person's duty to tell them so even if they didn't want to hear it. Perhaps it wasn't a person's duty to dispatch friends and neighbors quite as scathingly as Maude and Dorothy often did, but then, being right, doing right, was more important than being nice. Niceness was not one of their major concerns. They cared too much to be nice. They cared too much to modulate their judgment.
Looking over the TV landscape, it's hard to find a character, male or female, with this kind of conviction, and certainly not in a comedy. (It's hard to find anyone who even looks like Arthur, who got to be famous when she was already gray, a trick since pulled off by George Clooney and Anderson Cooper, but not by another woman). The socially conscious Norman Lear sitcoms that dominated the 1970s (Maude, All in The Family, Good Times, The Jeffersons, and more) by grappling with racism, sexism, class and most other -isms have disappeared and, with them, the fully engaged bleeding hearts, bigots and pioneers they starred. Since Golden Girls went off the air, there have been few shows about middle aged people, almost none about senior citizens. Sex and The City, the series that spawned a thousand copycats (SATC with black women, SATC with dudes, SATC for network TV, SATC with three), is really just a copy of Golden Girls (sexually adventurous Blanche is Samantha, sweet naive Rose is Charlotte, etc. etc.) i.e. Golden Girls with 30-somethings. On TV right now, there's nowhere Maude or Dorothy would fit in.
That's not to say either Maude or the Golden Girls is perfect television. Certain old movies momentarily make me feel like the space-time continuum has collapsed. Any notion that we have advanced, become smarter, more modern, more knowing, evaporates upon watching Casablanca—the only thing we know now that we didn't know then is how to film in color. Neither Maude nor the Golden Girls gives me that sense. They're dated, they're earnest, they're not always funny (though, sometimes, happily, they are), the laugh track grates. Yet in both of these shows there's at least person I'd really like to see more of—and maybe not just on TV. She's smart, she's imperious, she doesn't suffer fools, she's engaged with the larger world, she's engaged with her friends, she has opinions she will share, that she will advocate for, that she believes in, and if you banged your head and ended up in the hospital you'd be happy if she was the person they called. She's an adult. She's Bea Arthur.
This above all: to thine ownself be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
-- William Shakespeare
Thanks for the moxie, madam.
You were an inspiration to a generation.
.
