LAVERNE & SHIRLEY: THE COMPLETE SERIES (Miller-Milkis Productions 1976-83) Paramount CBS Home Video
Few
buddy/buddy sitcoms have endeared themselves in our hearts as Laverne & Shirley (1976-83); the
joyous pairing of Penny Marshall and Cindy Williams as single roomies, toiling
together as bottle cappers inside Milwaukee’s fictional Shotz Brewery.
Formulaic to a fault, the crazy quilt of comedy concocted for this memorable
franchise toggles between clever repartee between this proverbial ‘odd couple’ - boy-crazy Laverne De Fazio
(Marshall) and sexually repressed Shirley Feeney (Williams) – and visual
slapstick, often created off the cuff by Penny Marshall’s brain-storming.
Marshall’s brother, Gary not only launched the series, but also served as one
of its’ executive producers. In retrospect, the early seasons are a veritable
showcase for Penny Marshall and Cindy Williams’ abundant energies and
inimitable sight gags. Miraculously, neither initially wanted to take their co-starring
status beyond cameos already established on Happy Days – playing two somewhat loose playmates for Fonzie (Henry
Winkler) and Richie Cunningham (Ron Howard). In reality, Williams was dating
Winkler at the time – a relationship virtually unknown to fans, since, on TV it
was Penny Marshall to whom Fonzie’s heart always belonged. And while Williams
had planned to pursue a writing career, her costarring opposite Howard in
George Lucas’ American Graffiti (1973)
had instead cemented her presence in front of the camera with an iconic splash
too great to be ignored. But, oh what a team Williams and Marshall would soon
make on television.
Penny
Marshall’s Laverne Marie De Fazio was quickly singled out as the clear-eyed
Brooklyn-born tomboy, cynic and realist; having taken her lumps early in life;
her mother dead before the start of the series, her cliché of an Italian father,
Frank (played with fiery zest by Phil Foster), perennially wishing she had been
born a boy. Even so, Marshall brought something of an easily wounded tenderness
to this part; also her verve for 3D monster movies, monogramed sweaters and the
disgustingly unpleasant combination of milk and Pepsi (Pepsi Cola one of the
proud sponsors of the show). “At kosher
camp,” Marshall would later explain, “…they
couldn’t drink milk with meat, so they had Pepsi. I wanted Pepsi, too. But my
mother made me drink milk first. Then, she gave me the soda. Sometimes, she
didn’t rinse out the glass. Sometimes, it wasn’t even empty. Eventually it
became half and half. When I did it on the show, I knew it would get a
reaction. And it did. People related to those little details.”
Aside: having
only once attempted this combination (just to see if there was any enjoyment to
be derived), I can honestly say while Laverne was my favorite half of this
dynamic duo, I could have easily done without this milky misfire of her chosen beverage.
Of course, a gutsy no nonsense gal from the school of hard knocks needed
someone to offset her unvarnished sense of self. Hence, Cindy Williams’ Shirley
Feeney became the de facto Miss Goodie Two-shoes of the piece; intolerably
perky, self-righteous and passive/aggressive when needed; her most prized
possession - Boo Boo Kitty; a stuffed black cat Shirley perpetually treated as
if it were alive, just one of the bones of contention that left Laverne ready
to tear her hair out. Friends: you can’t live without them even though,
occasionally, you would very much like to punch their lights out.
Alas, in
private, Penny Marshall’s life was anything but as level-headed as her on
screen counterpart. “My mother was very
sarcastic which I didn’t know as a child,” Marshall has admitted, “She hated my father and so I had the brunt
of their dislike for each other. My brother and sister were planned. I was not
planned. I was a mistake and told I was a mistake.” At nineteen, Marshall
began to make her own; impregnated by a high school beau after a night of ‘pity
sex’; later marrying, then divorcing the father of her daughter to wed aspiring
comedian, Rob Reiner. Marshall’s gray period would continue thereafter,
escalating and plagued by chronic drug abuse; marijuana and cocaine mostly, and
fueled by some infamous drug and sex parties. It was at this juncture in her
life Penny embraced acting, guided by brother, Garry’s gentle words of
encouragement. At the time, Marshall and Williams had already united as writers
on a centennial spoof for director, Francis Ford Coppola. Sensing reluctance
from both Penny and Cindy to commit to a TV series, Garry suggested the show
would likely only last a season and, if nothing else provide them all with a
steady pay check for one year. “Maybe we
can all open a carwash or something afterward,” Penny quipped at the time. Famous
last words indeed; as, at $75,000 per week, Laverne & Shirley would make both Penny Marshall and Cindy
Williams two of the highest paid actresses working in television.
As
counterpoints of embellishment, Laverne
& Shirley would also become justly celebrated for its supporting
players; primarily Michael McKean and David Lander as Leonard ‘Lenny’ Kosnowski and Andrew ‘Squiggy’ Squiggman. The improbability of
these two mutton-headed dolts never seemed to bother audiences. Some forty
years after the show went off the air, there remains something rather
tragically endearing about these two; Lenny eventually discovering his family
lineage dating all the way back to a royal house; his last name, Polish for ‘Help! There’s a hog in my kitchen!’ In
reality, McKean and Lander were friends since high school and fairly accomplished
writers by the time they made their auspicious debut as this richly satisfying
parody of the proverbial 50’s greaser and his tag-along buddy. If the girls
could only marginally count upon Lenny and Squiggy to get them into – and
occasionally out of – a tight jam; their more genuine sounding board was
Laverne’s father; a protective surrogate to Shirley, while remaining humorously
critical of his own offspring, whom he affectionately nicknamed, ‘Muffin’. Shirley’s other rock of Gibraltar was
introduced early on as an ever-potential love interest; Carmine ‘the big Ragoo’
Ragusa (Eddie Mekka); long-suffering from a lack of physical affections, but
equally as devoted to Shirley’s happiness.
Garry
Marshall’s spin-off brainchild from his own hit series, Happy Days retained the original franchise’s nostalgia for the
fifties, gradually coaxed into the late 1960’s by the time the show went off
the air – inexplicably skipping over two whole years chronologically. To say Laverne & Shirley was an overnight
sensation is an understatement. Very few sitcoms have enjoyed such immediate
and overwhelming popularity; Laverne
& Shirley debuting at #1 in the Nielsen ratings, and retaining the top
spot for their time slot for four consecutive seasons. Throughout its eight
year run, Laverne & Shirley
would remain true to its comedy roots; although there were a few noteworthy
exceptions in which the producers and writers attempted to interject some
unanticipated drama. The first hint of seriousness came near the end of Season
2; the episode: Look Before You Leap
– dealing with Laverne’s suspicions she might be pregnant after a drunken
indiscretion. In Season 3, the girls befriended Mrs. Babish’s mentally
challenged daughter, Amy (Linda Gillen); Babish taking umbrage to Lenny’s
romantic interests until she realizes he means Amy no harm. Season 4’s A Visit to the Cemetery, involved old
childhood anxieties, as Laverne stanchly refuses to visit her mother’s grave,
leading to a temporary rift between her and Frank. Season 5 marked the end to
these introspective episodes with double whammies, ‘What Do You Do With a Drunken Sailor?’ in which Laverne
recognizes her brother, Bobby (Ed Begley Jr.) is suffering from addiction, and
‘Why Did the Fireman…?’; once again
focused on Laverne, this time lamenting the sudden untimely passing of her
firefighter/boyfriend, Randy Carpenter (Ted Danson).
The show’s now
iconic opener ‘schlemiel, schlimazel,
hasenpfeffer incorporated’ was practically an afterthought; Garry Marshall
remembering Penny learning it while still a school girl, and encouraging her to
teach the Yiddish-American hopscotch chant to Cindy as a ‘bit of business’ that might possibly find a home somewhere within
the pilot episode. Instead, it became the tag to introduce Cyndi Grecco’s ‘Making Our Dreams Come True’; Laverne & Shirley’s memorable anthem.
Executive
producer, Thomas L. Miller added his own verisimilitude to the production;
coming up with the name ‘Shotz’ for the brewery (a play on the real Joseph
Schlitz Brewing Company), the girl’s fabled basement apartment on Knapp Street,
actually named after a real street near Schlitz.
During the
show’s run, Laverne and Shirley would frequently share the screen with visitors
from their parent spinoff, Happy Days
– one of TV’s first franchises to do cross
over episodes (meaning, the plot from one show carried over into the story
line of the other); Henry Winkler’s Fonzie and, later, Mork & Mindy’s Robin Williams paying tribute to these basement-dwelling
roommates. On screen, Laverne and Shirley equally endured the slings and arrows
of frequently being thought of as low class; Shirley’s pie-in-the-sky
aspirations to rise above their working class station and Laverne’s begrudging
acceptance of their lots in life, leading to all sorts of classist humor, rife
for parody, while also striking a chord with a large portion of their
middle-class viewership. Initially, Paramount was in search of another show for
Garry Marshall to produce; hiring Michael McKean and David Landers to write the
pilot. Both Landers and McKean had established themselves as writers when Penny
Marshall suggested they audition for Marshall instead, performing bits from
their campus comedy act. Instantly, McKean and Landers were written into the
series, their dim-witted alter egos easily establishing themselves as beloved
foils for the girls to play off.
While the
girls always managed to rise above the situations they found themselves in,
frequently growing richer in their bond of friendship as a direct result from
these trials and tribulations, behind the scenes tensions as frequently flared;
the confrontations cordially referenced in Cindy Williams’ biography as ‘operatic’. Despite a rift with the
studio – presumably over Williams’ pregnancy, ending with the premature
cancelation of her contract and leaving Penny Marshall to go it alone for
virtually all of Season 8, Williams has since remained rather close to her
co-star. Interestingly, Garry Marshall has been less than circumspect about
what went down once the cameras stopped rolling, committing his roiling
frustrations to paper in two memoirs. According
to Garry, it was hardly ‘joy galore’ on
set; writers threatening to quit and the girls regularly at each other’s
throats, with both Williams and Marshall using enough blue language to make
even a sailor recant his true calling to become a Catholic priest. “Things were very chaotic,” Garry has
written, “Penny and Cindy thought that
they knew more than anyone else and that the writing staff was without talent…
the writers… thought Penny and Cindy were mean; too young to be so bossy, and
narcissistic.” There may be
something to these rumors, despite Williams’ rosier retrospective. Even now,
Penny Marshall, who beat lung and brain cancer after four arduous years of
hard-won battling the disease, has remained the most reclusive of the surviving
cast members.
Although made
in the 70’s, Laverne & Shirley
capitalized on the ‘nostalgia’ craze
then sweeping the nation; the show presumably set in 1958, but curiously,
skipping over the years 1963 and ’64 when rebooted after Season 5; the entire
cast ‘moving’ to Los Angeles for Seasons 6, 7 and 8. In reality, none of the
episodes were shot in Milwaukee; a second unit sent to photograph inserts and
introductory bookends; virtually everything else, including ‘exteriors’ of the
girl’s basement apartment, shot on soundstages at Paramount in front of a live
studio audience. Refreshingly, Laverne & Shirley began as an
homage to blue-collar ethics, and not simply a ribald or farcical stab to make
their arguably, ‘low brow’ struggles appear
idiotic, quaint and/or ridiculous. The girls had jobs – jobs they hated – and dreams to treasure above all else. Shirley’s
involved dating Carmine; an irrepressible cabbie, frequently bursting into Tony
Bennett songs, with plans to make it big on Broadway. In reality, Mekka had been
a Broadway star prior to joining Laverne
& Shirley’s cast; his exit at the end of the series (off to make his ‘debut’) a send-up, meant to launch yet
another spin-off series. Alas, this never went beyond the preplanning stages.
Apart from
Lenny and Squiggy, the show also made regulars of Laverne’s Italian papa, Frank
DeFazio (Phil Foster), proprietor of the Pizza Bowl, and, Edna Babbish (Betty
Garrett, recently migrated over from All
In The Family), as the girl’s empathetic landlady. Throughout Season 4,
Frank – a widower – and Edna – unmarried – gradually fell in love and were wed.
But the average shelf-life of a sitcom, at least one made in the seventies, was
four years, and in hindsight, one can definitely see Laverne & Shirley begun to run out of steam, verve and viable
plot lines by the end of Season 4: Season 5’s hilarious misfire, having the
girls enlist in the army where they are browbeaten by a butch drill sergeant, Alvinia
T. Plout (Vicki Lawrence, who eventually winds up pregnant and come to visit
her discharged disciples in Season 6) just one of many false starts beginning
to erode the show’s popularity and staying power. Others, included relocating
the entire cast from perpetually windswept and usually snowy Milwaukee to
sundrenched Burbank, CA (explained away after the girls lose their bottle
capper jobs at Shotz, turn down an offer to become truck washers for the
brewery, and, finally wind up as gift-wrappers at Bardwell’s Dept. Store); the
introduction of Sonny St. Jacques (ex-footballer, Ed Marinaro) as a perpetually
shirtless ‘moon doggie’ love interest for Laverne (killed off by Marinaro’s
commitment to co-star on Hill Street
Blues), and the increasing focus on Squiggy’s romantic dalliances with the
their buxom neighbor; aspiring actress, Rhonda Lee (Leslie Easterbrook) did
much to destabilize the tenuous on-screen chemistry, irreversibly wrecked by
Paramount’s shortsightedness in terminating Cindy Williams’ contract at the
start of Season 8.
Williams
appears in only the first two episodes from this final season; Shirley promptly
informing Laverne she has, at long last, found love with army sergeant, Walter
Meany and will move out to follow her husband half way around the world. In
reality, Williams was already very pregnant with her first child; her real
husband, Bill Hudson, presenting a list of demands to Paramount to accommodate
his wife’s condition. For some time thereafter, both Garry and Penny Marshall
would equally blame Hudson for the way Williams’ future with the show quickly
unraveled into banishment off the set. Believing the studio would either merely
try to conceal her baby’s bulge behind couches and potted plants, or write the
pregnancy into the show (for which television precedence had already been
established on shows like I Love Lucy
and Bewitched); Paramount instead
cut the purse strings off prematurely, forcing several planned episodes to
include a baby to be rewritten and/or parceled off to other characters; the
show’s main titles reshot to exclude any and all references to Williams’
character, despite the fact the show continued to be called ‘Laverne & Shirley’.
Clumsily, Ed
Marinaro, previously cast as Laverne’s handsome cousin, Antonio, visiting from
Italy, reappeared briefly as a possible romantic figure for our love-starved
ugly duckling. By the end of Season 7, Marinaro was out and Laverne & Shirley already listing
badly. Now, Williams departure from the series, and Michael McKean’s absence
from several episodes (gone off to film This
Is Spinal Tap, 1984) plus the inexplicable disappearance of Betty Garrett
(idiotically referenced as having dumped Frank and moved back home), did much
to hasten clear-sounding death knells for the series. Yet, the proverbial nail
in the coffin was undeniably Cindy Williams’ departure. Laverne & Shirley without ‘Shirley’
is like Abbott with no Costello or Tom without Jerry. It
just doesn’t work. Fascinatingly, although the ratings dipped, the show
remained in the top 25 (still a contender). There was even talk to continue on
and do a Season 9; terminated when Penny Marshall announced she would not be coming
back unless the show could be relocated to New York.
The last
chapter in Laverne & Shirley’s
storied history is rather sad. Behind the smiles, Cindy Williams sued Paramount
for wrongful dismissal and $20,000,000; the case, eventually settled out of
court for an undisclosed sum but leaving its impact and pall on the rest of the
cast. ABC’s commitment to keeping the franchise alive went only so far, balking
at Penny Marshall’s demands to move from L.A. to New York and electing instead
to retire the series after 176 episodes. The network did hedge its bets,
however, using the second to last episode from Season 8 to piggyback a pilot episode
for ‘Carmine’ – the failed launch of
yet another spinoff with Laverne appearing only as bookends to this episode
devoted to Eddie Mekka’s lovable actor in training, given his big break to star
in an off-Broadway revival of Hair.
I am old
enough to recall Laverne & Shirley
as it originally aired and almost immediately went into syndication, and, personally,
I will never understand executive logic – particularly TV executive logic: ABC
repeatedly tinkering with Laverne &
Shirley’s hit status by moving it around their programming chess board to
various time slots after its familiarity with audiences had already been well
established. I come from the school of ‘if
it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ – clearly, a mentality at odds with the
network brain trusts. For the first four years, Laverne & Shirley sponged off the critical success of Happy Days, immediately following it on
Tuesday nights – the perfect appendage to Happy
Days for a weekly diet of nostalgia and laughs. But in 1979, for reasons
only known to those sitting in higher places, ABC unceremoniously displaced Laverne & Shirley to Thursday
evenings where it was incongruously pitted against CBS’s iconic hour-long
family drama, The Waltons and NBC’s
popular intergalactic space fantasy, Buck
Rogers in the 25th Century. Overnight, viewership tapered off.
In panic mode, ABC once again moved the show, only this time to Monday nights
where it fared no better. Reinstating the franchise at the tail end of Happy Days for the next three years
proved only a minor reprieve. For although the ratings would hold steady from thereon
in, never again would Laverne &
Shirley regain its overwhelming popularity in the Nielsen’s. At the same time, ABC sought to launch a
morning cartoon spin-off with Cindy Williams and Penny Marshall lending their voices.
It was not a success with the prepubescent sect and quickly disappeared from
ABC’s Saturday morning lineup.
While both
Cindy Williams and Penny Marshall have gone on to do other things; Marshall’s
list of big screen credits includes 1988’s Big
– the first movie directed by a woman to break the $100 million mark, followed
by other noteworthy projects - it is unlikely either actress will ever be
forgotten; first and foremost identified for these eight years together as a
team, in fair weather and under darker clouds, as the irrepressible madcaps,
Laverne De Fazio and Shirley Feeney. The original plans to scrap the show after
Season 5 with a move to New York City might have spared Williams and Marshall a
lot of grief and equally respected the precepts of the program, as well as
preserved the integrity of these characters for their fan base. There is little
to deny after Season 5, Laverne &
Shirley was largely – if not strictly – played for its camp value – the
play-acting degenerating into rank pantomime. Yet, all things considered, Laverne & Shirley has weathered the
decades as few buddy/buddy sitcoms from their time. Today, it isn’t the
cavalcade of cameos we recall, despite an enviable roster: Jay Leno,
Christopher Guest, Mark Harmon, Dennis Haysbert, Carrie Fisher, Art Garfunkel
(who also dated Penny Marshall), Adam West, NFL pro cum actor, Fred Dryer, Vicki
Lawrence, Ed Begley Jr., Anjelica Huston, Carol Kane, Harry Dean Stanton, Jim
Belushi, Jeff Goldblum and even Hugh Hefner – to name but a few. Rather, it is
the camaraderie of the show’s two embattled stars that holds up spectacularly
well.
“Penny was her own free spirit,” Williams has
said, “There were arguments along the way
and some unhappiness too, but always because we were looking for ways to make
the show better – and it was better for it…so…” In her defense, Penny has
equally been forthright to correct a misconception about her working
relationship with Cindy Williams, “We
were not estranged during the show. But then she got married. I was very happy.
She was having a baby. But Bill (Hudson her then husband) was a pain in the
ass. He wanted to be a producer. So that’s what happened. But she was married
and she thought he was being protective.”
Perhaps the
show’s success was kismet; Laverne &
Shirley finding their niche on Paramount’s stage 20; home to another ‘odd couple’ – or perhaps, I should say –
‘the’ Odd Couple (1970-75) a show on which Penny Marshall had briefly
co-starred. For several years after Cindy Williams’ ousting from the series, she
and Marshall drifted apart and did not speak. Ultimately, Penny blamed Cindy’s husband,
for the debacle. There is some evidence to suggest Bill Hudson’s intensions
were hardly altruistic, either toward his wife or even aimed at the good of the
show. Time, however, heals most wounds and Williams and Marshall are once again
on speaking terms, even appearing together for a 2013 episode of Nickelodeon’s Sam & Cat. Today, Marshall reflects
more soberly on the success of, and fallout from, her years on Laverne & Shirley. She has also
mellowed in her assessment of what made it click. “Try hard,” she has said, “Help
your friends. Don’t get too crazy, and have fun;” words to live by, or
rather, inspired by the memory and enduring legacy of Laverne & Shirley; one of the cornerstones in situation comedy
that continues to “make all of our dreams
come true…for me and you.”
I suspect a
lot of dreams will continue to come true for fans of this classic sitcom, now
that Paramount Home Video has debuted Laverne
& Shirley: The Complete Series on DVD; all 176 episodes remastered;
most of them looking years younger than anticipated. In the early years of
Paramount’s foray into DVD, the studio continued to market their vintage series
under their own banner, later relegating TV to the CBS home video branch of
their Viacom empire. I have a few bones of contention with this release. First
off, ASCAP residuals being what they are, some of the original music used in
this series has either been altered or excised altogether, depriving us of some
fine vintage performances from all concerned, though chiefly Eddie Mekka’s
formidable singing talent. Mercifully, Cyndi Grecco’s theme song remains
intact. Laverne & Shirley just
wouldn’t be the same without ‘Making Our
Dreams Come True’. Video quality is generally quite solid, sporting
eye-popping colors and very good contrast too. Age-related artifacts are
present throughout; some episodes more heavily plagued by their presence than
others. The richness of color during the main titles in Season One is
extraordinary; on the rest of the seasons, less so – Season 3-7 showing some
age-related wear and tear and color fading not present in the actual body of
the episodes themselves, leading me to suspect older elements were being used
even during the show’s run, intercut to keep updating the main title sequence,
but not preserve the integrity of the original photography. Sloppily done, if
you ask me.
It would have
been kind of Paramount CBS to go the extra mile and clean up the chips and
scratches. It also would have been prudent of them to remaster the cross over
episodes from Happy Days, included
in this set, but looking at least 40 years too ugly for TV – faded, riddled in
age-related dirt and scratches, and generally resembling something of a
careworn and faded ‘work print’ rather than the final edit meant for broadcast.
I am also not a fan of the studio’s need
to save a few bucks as we move beyond Season 3, compressing more half hour
episodes per disc. Compression artifacts are generally not an issue. So, I
suppose my complaint herein is not altogether warranted. The audio on all of
these episodes is mono. Occasionally, it can sound quite strident – the overall
characteristic very thin during Seasons 1-3 and improving marginally
thereafter. It won’t distract, but it isn’t great either. Extras are limited to
a few gag reels scattered throughout. I wish studios would realize classic TV
shows are not merely meant to be dumped on the market as though they carry no
worth at all in terms of historical significance. If Laverne & Shirley ever makes the leap to Blu-ray (and I won’t
be holding my breath that it will), I still might expect Paramount to go the
extra mile and corral some – if not all – of the vintage retrospectives about Laverne & Shirley – including them
on a single disc of extra features. Bottom line: the comedy sketches in Laverne & Shirley: The Complete Series
have dated somewhat. Although fans of this show (of which I count myself among
them) will surely treasure this release, despite the aforementioned
shortcomings and shortsightedness made in the spirit of cost-cutting; those new
to the franchise may not entirely find its’ zany antic to their tastes. I’ll
pity them their ‘sophistication’. It
has no place within such rambunctiously good humor.
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
4
VIDEO/AUDIO
3.5
EXTRAS
1
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