MONDO EXTRAS

Behind the Camera: The Unauthorized Story of Three’s Company

Some funk horns play as quasi-John-Ritter drives up to ABC in his red VW bug, complete with fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror. Dude, what do you want to bet he totally smells like Brut? He parks, hops out of his car, and manages to do a little twirl and "woo!" as he walks toward what is apparently his audition. This is the part of the script where John Ritter is revealed to be hyperkinetic and high-energy, in case that got by you. He enters a dark auditorium and runs up the aisle, apologizing loudly for his lateness, and as he runs up to the stage, he does an enormous pratfall, falling on his face and bumping into things. Yeah, you know, I hear about actors doing things like this to land roles, but I always think if I were running any professional enterprise, I would immediately say, "Next!," because otherwise that's going to be the guy who stands around trying to be the funniest guy on the set when everybody else is ready to go home because they've been at work for fourteen consecutive hours. He's the kind of guy who makes the Teamsters grumpy late at night. Ted and The Other Guy smile and laugh, though, and tell John that they recognize him from his recent work as a minister on The Waltons.

The next thing we see is Fred in his office looking at footage from the newly-shot pilot. Fred likes John, but he hates the girls, who he refers to as "two Bea Arthurs," and demands that they be recast and the pilot shot again. I guess he thinks that the girls are too old, rather than that they have gravelly voices or are enormously tall. The pitch guys resist, but eventually cave, as Fred knows they must. One of the suits in the room suddenly remembers that they have a holding deal with a "terrific girl" who's "a theater actress," and maybe they can use her. And who is this sophisticated theater actress? Joyce DeWitt! "Get her!" Fred commands. Ah, and the secret ingredient to all the show's success falls into place with those simple words.

As it turns out, this notorious Joyce of which we hear so much is in her apartment, canoodling with her boyfriend as she chooses from multiple available theater roles. Will it be Shakespeare? Will it be Sweet Charity? Joyce is awash in choices, you know. She's also awash in a hideous yellow shirt, and her boyfriend is awash in a shiny leather vest. No kidding. The phone rings.

Now Fred is back in his office, watching Pilot II: This Time Without Any Old Ladies. He loves Joyce, but he hates "the blonde," so they're going to have to do yet another round of casting. Fred mentions that he saw an episode of Starsky & Hutch last night, and it featured a girl he thinks might be promising. "Big full lips, busty...find out her name." It takes a couple of minutes for Exposition Suit #1 to ascertain that the girl in question is one Suzanne Somers, who was also the girl in the white T-Bird in American Graffiti. Ted quite correctly points out that she doesn't even talk in that movie, so it's hardly a good gauge of her acting or her comedy abilities. "Call her in," Fred commands.

Previous 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26Next

Comments

Behind the Camera: The Unauthorized Story of Three’s Company Some funk horns play as quasi-John-Ritter drives up to ABC in his red VW bug, complete with fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror. Dude, what do you want to bet he totally smells like Brut? He parks, hops out of his car, and manages to do a little twirl and "woo!" as he walks toward what is apparently his audition. This is the part of the script where John Ritter is revealed to be hyperkinetic and high-energy, in case that got by you. He enters a dark auditorium and runs up the aisle, apologizing loudly for his lateness, and as he runs up to the stage, he does an enormous pratfall, falling on his face and bumping into things. Yeah, you know, I hear about actors doing things like this to land roles, but I always think if I were running any professional enterprise, I would immediately say, "Next!," because otherwise that's going to be the guy who stands around trying to be the funniest guy on the set when everybody else is ready to go home because they've been at work for fourteen consecutive hours. He's the kind of guy who makes the Teamsters grumpy late at night. Ted and The Other Guy smile and laugh, though, and tell John that they recognize him from his recent work as a minister on The Waltons. The next thing we see is Fred in his office looking at footage from the newly-shot pilot. Fred likes John, but he hates the girls, who he refers to as "two Bea Arthurs," and demands that they be recast and the pilot shot again. I guess he thinks that the girls are too old, rather than that they have gravelly voices or are enormously tall. The pitch guys resist, but eventually cave, as Fred knows they must. One of the suits in the room suddenly remembers that they have a holding deal with a "terrific girl" who's "a theater actress," and maybe they can use her. And who is this sophisticated theater actress? Joyce DeWitt! "Get her!" Fred commands. Ah, and the secret ingredient to all the show's success falls into place with those simple words. As it turns out, this notorious Joyce of which we hear so much is in her apartment, canoodling with her boyfriend as she chooses from multiple available theater roles. Will it be Shakespeare? Will it be Sweet Charity? Joyce is awash in choices, you know. She's also awash in a hideous yellow shirt, and her boyfriend is awash in a shiny leather vest. No kidding. The phone rings. Now Fred is back in his office, watching Pilot II: This Time Without Any Old Ladies. He loves Joyce, but he hates "the blonde," so they're going to have to do yet another round of casting. Fred mentions that he saw an episode of Starsky & Hutch last night, and it featured a girl he thinks might be promising. "Big full lips, busty...find out her name." It takes a couple of minutes for Exposition Suit #1 to ascertain that the girl in question is one Suzanne Somers, who was also the girl in the white T-Bird in American Graffiti. Ted quite correctly points out that she doesn't even talk in that movie, so it's hardly a good gauge of her acting or her comedy abilities. "Call her in," Fred commands.

Previous 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26Next

Comments

SHARE THE SNARK

X

Get the most of your experience.
Share the Snark!

See content relevant to you based on what your friends are reading and watching.

Share your activity with your friends to Facebook's News Feed, Timeline and Ticker.

Stay in Control: Delete any item from your activity that you choose not to share.

The Latest Activity On TwOP

SHARE THE SNARK

X

Get the most of your experience.
Share the Snark!

See content relevant to you based on what your friends are reading and watching.

Share your activity with your friends to Facebook's News Feed, Timeline and Ticker.

Stay in Control: Delete any item from your activity that you choose not to share.

The Latest Activity On TwOP