Monday, June 11, 2001
This Week's Column:
Network television is a rough place to try to make an impression if you don't look like you just stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine. When a few of the Morlocks among us slip through the cracks and get a shot at the big time, it deserves a moment's attention…
The folks at the Fox network recently caught my attention.
Normally, when Fox catches your attention, it's done with body parts--naked or dismembered. But that's not quite the case with The Lone Gunmen.
For those of you unfamiliar with The Lone Gunmen, it was a new show, a spinoff of the hugely successful The X-Files. The show featured the exploits of the trio known as "The Lone Gunmen," publishers of an eponymously named scandal sheet that exposes the "truth" about government conspiracies and alien encounters. In the new series, actors Bruce Harwood, Dean Haglund and Tom Braidwood reprised their X-Files roles as Gunmen geeks Byers, Langley and Frohike, respectively.
The quality of the show was decidedly so-so. The episodes which stuck closer to X-Files style conspiracy-mongering proved more interesting efforts; other installments focused on the boys' comedic hijinks, and weren't nearly so satisfying.
But the show's quality is not my concern here. No, my theme has more to do with the aforementioned body parts--in this case, how much the parts on The Lone Gunmen do NOT conform to TV's normal physical standards.
Among the show's three featured performers, Byers comes closest to what you expect to see on TV. Bruce Harwood looks less like a television star and more like someone you'd run into while shopping--though not necessarily in the most fashionable corners of the mall. He looks more like a guy you'd see picking up some frozen peas down at the Safeway. But at least he's relatively telegenic. His partners, Langley and Frohike, are--to be charitable--somewhat “differently” formed. Haglund's Langley looks like an old surfer who's seen way too many waves. And Tom Braidwood, who throws himself into the role of Frohike with gusto, has the seedy aura of that old guy you saw late one Thursday night shuffling suspiciously through the liquor store, buying a bottle of bourbon and a copy of Swank.
The supporting cast did their best to brighten the scenery. As the Gunmens' young, eager-beaver helper Jimmy, Stephen Snedden brought a jocky appeal to the show. Snedden looks sort of like a poor man's Jerry O'Connell--maybe like a cheap Taiwan knock off version of the star of the recent, much-ignored movie Tomcats.
Rounding out the cast--by supplying the requisite curves--is Zuleikha Robinson, as the anagrammically named mystery woman who may or may not be on the side of The Lone Gunmen. As the designated Hot Chick, Robinson almost brought a touch of beauty to an otherwise eye-candy-less show, but even her looks are a little off. The body's fine, but her facial features are a little too pronounced for your typical 21st century TV star. Robinson looks like a girl who'd get plenty of attention if she were hanging out in the 7-Eleven parking lot on a Saturday night, but she doesn't really measure up to, say, the oh-so-perfect teen queens crowding the landscape over on the We're Beautiful network.
And that's why The Lone Gunmen caught my attention. Here is something almost unheard of on today's television landscape: a show where everyone is NOT eye-catching. At this point in the game, virtually all of the shows which flash across our screens are chock full of eye candy. You can make a solid argument that being eye candy is the surest way to get on the airwaves today. Legitimate talent is way down the list of desireable qualities in today's TV-land.
It didn't used to be that way. In the early days of TV, lots of folks became stars without iconically good looks. Sid Caesar and Imogene Coca of Your Show of Shows weren't exactly anyone's prom king and queen. You Bet Your Life starred Groucho Marx, who made himself famous by making himself funny-looking. When The Honeymooners ruled the airwaves, Jackie Gleason was one of television's biggest stars. And Gleason was, to put it bluntly, a big fatass.
Where would such performers fit nowadays in the vastly broader television domain? You'd think, with so many more channels airing so many more shows, that more plain-looking or even downright ugly folks would show up on the tube. Right?
Wrong. Oh, you do see non-lookers here and there on the channels--a Roseanne or Drew Carey or someone similarly "unconventional" will make it once in a while, usually in a sitcom, sometimes even a successful sitcom. (Fat people are almost entirely restricted to sitcoms; TV always feels safer putting overweight folks in situations where the audience can laugh at them, if not with them.) But compared to the tidal wave of hardbodies and geometrically ideal faces on TV these days, anyone average looking or worse barely registers in the televised world.
That's why the guys in The Lone Gunmen stand out so starkly. Against that backdrop of relentless physical perfection, these dudes look like they could be you or one of your neighbors. And yet, there they were, getting moderately famous, making a few bucks, and (to all appearances) having some fun while doing something creative and entertaining. Unfortunately, TV's Iron Law of Looks seems to have shot down The Lone Gunmen before they made any serious hay; Fox canceled the show after less than one season. Still, however briefly, The Lone Gunmen gave a ray of hope for those of us who did not win the DNA lottery, something we can use to bolster our own wishes and dreams. Perhaps, possibly, maybe, those of us who are a little less than physically perfect can still have a shot at a moment or two in the big time.
Requiem for a Dream
Speaking of life in TV-land--and, I must admit, some very pretty people--I would be horribly remiss if I failed to make some mention of the passing of Xena, Warrior Princess.
The show has just ended its six year run, and I for one will miss it terribly. It had its defects, and it often teetered on the brink of absurdity, but perhaps no other show on television during its time brought as many entertaining, imaginitive, emotional and/or just plain fun hours into our lives. Xena was one of the defining elements of Popular Culture in the late 90's, and the achievement should not pass away unnoticed.
So I'd like to take this space to say thank you to the producers, writers and crew of the show for making it possible. Also, a special thank you to Lucy Lawless, who brought her indispensible talent, personality and charisma to the title role. And extra special thanks to Reneé O'Connor, who infused the role of Gabrielle with so much grace, beauty, warmth, energy and charm that the afterglow of her radience will shine on for years and years, long after the show has worn itself out in syndication. Ladies, I have drawn more inspiration from your work than you could possibly imagine. Thank you for being my heroes.
Originally posted 6/11/01; edited 11/26/07