Any discussion of the continuum of family dramas in TV history has to include the aptly named 1970s series “Family.” Although the premise is simple – it’s about a family of five in Pasadena – a quick investigation into the show’s genesis suggests it was original at the time.
Producers Aaron Spelling and Leonard Goldberg came up with the idea of an hour-long drama centered on the emotional life of a family, then playwright Jay Presson Allen wrote the pilot episode and Mike Nichols (“The Graduate”) also joined the team.
Care and detail
Today, “the emotional life of a family” is a genre, not a premise, but back then this portrayal of the Lawrence clan was a breakthrough – not because TV hadn’t portrayed families (indeed, most Nick at Nite classics feature families), but because it hadn’t done so with such care and detail. At least not to this degree of popular or Emmy Award success.
“Family” Season 1 (1976)
ABC, 6 episodes
Creator: Jay Presson Allen
Stars: Sada Thompson, James Broderick, Gary Frank
Featuring somber piano and string music composed by John Rubinstein, who also plays Nancy’s husband Jeff, and emphasized further by the deliberate pace, the six-episode Season 1 (1976, ABC) is “prestige television” (TV that intends to be appreciated for its artistry) long before that term existed.
My opinion of the whole five-season series will likely be different if I ever get to see it (only Seasons 1 and 2 are on DVD), but for now I want to get my thoughts down about Season 1.
Most episodes feature at least one impeccably written scene that dodges clichés. In “The Best Years” (episode 1), we expect Kate (Sada Thompson) to apologize to daughter Buddy (Kristy McNichol), who had overheard Kate saying she sometimes wishes she never had kids.
Instead, “Family” recognizes that the apology can go unspoken between people who love each other. Instead, Kate gives a beautiful monologue about how mothers don’t know their child until the child is born, and that one of the wonderful things about knowing Buddy is seeing how much she is like Kate herself.
Artistic choices
While “Family’s” staging and camera setups don’t break new ground, it skirts viewer expectations in another way – with artistic directing choices. When Doug (James Broderick) tells son Willie (Gary Frank) that Kate has a lump on her breast and might have cancer (2, “Monday is Forever”), we see the conversation from a distance with no sound; it ends with father and son hugging.
It reminds me of the “Buffy” episode “The Body,” when we see Dawn’s breakdown upon learning of her mother’s death. (Adding to the prestigious list of “Family” contributors, “Monday is Forever” is written by Armyan Bernstein, who would later co-write 1999’s “The Hurricane.”)
Some have said “Family” is as relevant today as it was 40 years ago, and this is largely true, but my nostalgic side hoped for some distinctly “of the era” moments. Similar to “James at 15,” “Family” features occasional 1970s slang like “fink” (an unreliable person) and “turkey” (a lighter version of “jerk”).
But the only episode that is sort of dated is “A Special Kind of Loving” (3), when Willie learns the girl he has started dating is 3 months pregnant. While this would still be a dramatic relationship point today, the notion of a single mother was still controversial then.
Another time-capsule moment occurs in “Monday is Forever” when Willie tells his dad about “Star Trek” conventions and asks him if he remembers the show (which was less than a decade old at the time). Doug barely remembers it, and he’s stunned that people gather to talk about a canceled TV show.
If such a scene were on a period-piece series, like the 1976-set “Swingtown” (2008), it would be worth an ironic chuckle. But on “Family,” I think it’s meant to be a straightforward scene illustrating how sci-fi conventions are a symbol of the younger generation.
Life moved more slowly
“Family’s” most “of the time” element isn’t a moment or scene, but rather the pacing. It suggests that life moved more slowly, and more thoughtfully (and with fewer commercials; each episode is 48 minutes long, rather than today’s 44). There’s time for sardonic humor, like when Kate tells Buddy that coffee will stunt your growth: “Without coffee, your father and I would be 7 feet tall.”
But the delivery of the humor is 180 degrees removed from “Gilmore Girls” and 90 degrees removed from “Parenthood.” There’s hardly any facial acting; while not giving rote recitations, the actors are content to let the words do the talking, whether it’s a funny or serious line.
Granted, there were also fast-paced shows in the ’70s, so I shouldn’t take “Family” as a universal snapshot. But the sense of routine and structure feels right, as does the fact that spur-of-the-moment choices had potentially bigger consequences since no one could be contacted by cellphone.
Buddy runs away in “The Best Years” and it takes the police to track her down; Willie is late for Buddy’s swim practice in “A Special Kind of Loving” and she has no way of knowing when he’ll arrive; and plans for when Willie should pick up Buddy or Doug in the car have to be made at the start of the day, over breakfast (which is likewise made with deliberation; this ain’t “grab a Pop Tart and run out the door”).
The strangest part of the storytelling is that the Lawrences – Doug a moderately successful lawyer and Kate a homemaker – have allowed Willie to drop out of high school. In “Point of Departure” (6), we learn they agreed to let him take a year off, but then he’d have to return for his senior year.
But even this compromise seems out of character for these parents. Willie contends that because he wants to be a writer, he doesn’t need a high school diploma, but while there are examples of successful writers who didn’t graduate high school, that’s not in itself a good argument for not bothering to finish. And it’s certainly not one Doug and Kate should accept.
Exploring mortality
Justifying the somber music, mortality is a popular theme, with Kate’s cancer scare; the death of the grandmother (4, “A Right and Proper Goodbye”); and reflections on the death of Timothy, a fourth child who had died five years earlier at age 10 in a canoeing accident (5, “Thursday’s Child”). (Watching it today, the theme of mortality is even more present, as I look up Broderick and Thompson on IMDB and find they have died.)
“Thursday’s Child” introduces continuity gaffes into the series. In the pilot, Kate says she has borne three children, so clearly the writers decided to introduce the late Timothy later in the game. Also in this episode, Nancy (Elayne Heilveil) and Jeff christen their baby, also named Timothy, but the (supposed) fact that Nancy is pregnant with child number two — a key point of the pilot — is brushed aside.
This was the era before home video and serious TV analysis, so writers would often treat continuity casually, figuring that most viewers would not notice. But considering that “Family” is so meticulously produced in other areas, it’s interesting that the number of Lawrence kids is in flux.
Just as each episode is deliberately paced, the overall series is a slow burn. After six episodes, I can see why this will eventually be a beloved series, but it’s not at that point yet. “Family” is better written than, say, “James at 15” (1977-78), but I latched onto James and his family and friends pretty quickly; I’m still hesitant to embrace the Lawrences.
Brotherly advice
I love the way Buddy counts on Willie for big-brotherly advice (these siblings are the two best characters), and the parents’ balance between strictness and love seems appropriate. All six major characters have depth.
But there’s still a black-and-white-era stiffness to Kate and Doug, and Nancy and Jeff are almost non-factors after the pilot episode, where Jeff’s infidelity is the central point.
Buddy’s best friend, Laura (“James at 15’s” Kim Richards), moves to Detroit in “Monday is Forever,” and it’s a respectable “friend moves away” plot. But it doesn’t have the same impact as Sam moving away on “Swingtown” or Allen moving away on “Punky Brewster.”
This is no doubt because Buddy’s friend is only in one episode, and that’s the same reason why the grandma’s death isn’t too much of a tear-jerker two episodes later.
However, this is a rather unfair point at which to review “Family,” which certainly grows significantly — and I believe becomes less somber and mortality-oriented — in future seasons. For now, the foundation is in place, and I’m looking forward to Season 2.