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Showing posts with label Robert Reed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert Reed. Show all posts

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Once Again, for The Bradys ...

April 25, 2013:  I had every intention of doing a Blah-ugh! entry on my friend Steven Spielberg, but that's going to have to wait. My inclination to spout about my favorite sit-com family has again grabbed at my groin and I'm going to seize the opportunity the way I seize the towel when I leave the shower naked, although hopefully I won't hurt my back this time ...

Yes, The Brady Bunch is the subject again today. Faithful Blah-ugh! readers -- the 23 of you -- know that I've barfed up some of my Brady ideas in past entries. This time, however, I won't bore you with more Marcia-related revelations, but I will put a new twist on Mike. You see, once again my children and I have slogged through another cycle of our DVDs and now, after the 14th -- or 40th, I'm not sure which -- viewing, it's become abundantly clear that Mike Brady is really the antithesis of the great father role model I always presumed him to be. (And no, Shannon, it has nothing to do with Robert Reed being gay and from Chicago.)

You see, though I've tried to deny it, I can't now watch one of these episodes without noticing how often Mike hits the kids. Yes, it's absolutely true. He swats them like insects on a regular basis, particularly in the first couple of seasons. It's a wonder he wasn't reported sooner, or that he hasn't now been cast in the sour light of other psychopathic television parents -- Homer Simpson, Archie Bunker, and Cloris Leachman. The examples are numerous -- the viewing of Greg's film on the pilgrims, Greg buying the lemon, Greg learning something-or-other ... In fact, I think Greg took the worst of his blows, which were often loud slaps on the back, but also sound whacks on the butt, the leg or the arm, depending on Robert Reed's mood.

It's ironic that Reed was such a fussbudget about the numerous implausibilities in Brady scripts, such as the time so-called Method actress "Meerna" Carter gave him and Henderson (a.k.a. Carol) tips on how to be motivated in the Safe commercial. All that time he was focusing his somewhat warped Shakespearean sensibilities on script revisions and scolding memos to the Schwartz family, he might have better served everyone by refraining from hitting the children so often.

That said, I think it's important to address the spectacle of Cousin Oliver. It was a dark day in Brady history when this pesty little jinx ambled onto the set looking like a shrunken John Denver. His smarmy one-liners and irritating glasses all served to beg the question of why Robert Reed didn't hit him more often.

Hmmmm... I see there are many, many more involved Brady-related points that require broaching, and I simply don't have the time or fortitude to address them right now. Why is Carol wearing Marcia's shirt in that episode with Lovey Howell and the Good Ship Lollipop? Does Jim Backus have a toupee or a comb-over in the pool episode? And what happened to Mr. Phillips? Was the new City Hall built in Woodland Park? Did Alice and Sam ever marry, and did he ever repair that gaping space in his front teeth? Did the kids ever record a family-version of "Clowns Never Laughed Before?" Did Maureen McCormick ever stop pronouncing words with that California patois, such as "dinist" for "dentist," etc. Does she still hate Alan Anthony? (I know I do and always will!) ...


Monday, September 14, 2009

A Very Brady Analysis (Part I)

September 14, 2009: As it's touched our lives so vehemently, it's always worth space (unlike Sherlock Holmes, for you dedicated readers) to add a few more insightful words about The Brady Bunch.

Unlike your typical past analyses, which focus on the more obvious elements of the show -- like how hot Marcia was, or Jan's ongoing self-esteem issues -- I thought I'd go a bit more in-depth, and examine the show not only in relation to Robert Reed's homosexuality, but Barry Williams' enjoyable and sometimes candid tome "Growing Up Brady" (where he shamelessly reveals his attraction to Florence Henderson, as well as the flagrant nepotism that tarnished the shaky reign of creator Sherwood Schwartz).

When considering the Brady family, I feel it's important to take an honest look at Mike's almost saintly involvement with each episode's problems (except of course the last, when he was sloppily written out of the script owing to Reed's refusal to participate -- and who can blame him, with such a silly storyline?!). While he generally played golf every Saturday morning -- and we all know his archietecture work kept him busy (and sometimes too busy, as was the case when Bebe Gallini sought his services), Mr. Brady was almost always around to lend an ear, float an epigram, or lovingly slap a bottom. My belief is that part of Mike's motivation to be such a dedicated husband and father lied in some inherent guilt woven into the character by the great Reed, who saw room to inject a modicum of his own gayness into the family dynamic. You see, Mike Brady, while obviously not the active alternative lifestyle individual that Reed was, may have had some very subtle latent tendencies at work. Part of his coping mechanism (and a handy manner of fostering his own denial) was to maintain a very busy lifestyle, coupled with a nagging need to always be available, never show his anger, and often give advances on allowances.

Another aspect of Mike's "condition" can be seen in relation to Alice Nelson. No raving beauty, Mike (who employed Alice long before Carol and her girls entered the picture) understandably holds no particular attraction toward her, and yet the comfort level he demonstrates with her in the household can be seen as another indicator of his latency.

Next time, I hope to examine some of the bedroom dynamics between Mike and Carol, and also discuss just what makes Marcia so hot.