BEWITCHED: Complete Series Box Set (Screen Gems, 1964-72) Sony Home Entertainment

In retrospect, certain TV shows seem so much a product of their time, and so right in the spur of their moment, that to consider how close we came to not having known them at all just seems ludicrous. Case in point: Bewitched, ABC’s runaway hit series. It ran from 1964 to 1972. With a twitch of her nose, Elizabeth Montgomery conquered prejudices about the supernatural as a viable entertainment, readjusting cultural cynicism brought on by the thought-numbing splendor of a Presidential assassination and funeral, an ever-growing disillusionment with American society in general, and, racial politics in particular. While Bewitched’s featherweight story lines, and memorable cacophony of reoccurring oddballs rarely touched upon the topical, the show’s fanciful flights into escapist fantasy proved precisely the elixir to offset this woeful reality. “The envelope didn’t need much pushing in those days,” producer, William Asher admitted, “…because the envelope was shut tight.” Indeed, Bewitched hit the air at a time when television situation comedies were homogenized to a finite precision, meant to cater to certain ‘family friendly’ clichés about life ‘with father’ in America.  

Bewitched was therefore a refreshing departure from the status quo. If not entirely an original premise (there had been movies made before, about a mere mortal falling in love with a sorceress, from 1942’s I Married a Witch, costarring Veronica Lake and Fredric March, to 1958’s Bell, Book and Candle, with James Stewart and Kim Novak), Bewitched effortlessly tweaked this age-old premise with a bon vivant’s charm for transforming the every-day suburban mundane into an ongoing series of freshly inventive newlywed calamities, exacerbated by the intrusion of witchcraft…and, of course, a meddlesome mother-in-law (played to perfection by 66 yr.-old Agnes Moorehead). Moorehead, in fact, thought so little of the idea, she agreed to do it, simply on a whim.  Bewitched ought never to have clicked. TV Guide’s initial assessment was far from glowing. And bringing Bewitched to the airwaves was fraught in setbacks. ABC balked at commissioning the pilot, fearing the show would be boycotted in the American South and Midwest where witches and witchcraft were considered sinfully aligned with the devil. Corporate sponsorship from Quaker Oats and Chevrolet helped. And fans responded immediately to the show’s lithe blend of mirth and mayhem. Yet, behind the scenes, Bewitched clung together by only a few precarious threads.

Dick York nailed the audition, cast as Bewitched’s forever harried hubby - successful ad man, Darrin Stephens. Alas, York’s addiction to prescription pills (to numb chronic pain from an old back injury) and his steadily failing health (prematurely brought on by his conspicuous consumption of cigarettes) would result in his being forced to retire prematurely from the role. Ironically, York’s replacement was Dick Sargent – the actor originally offered the part by executive producer, Harry Ackerman in 1964 (Sargent, unable to accept, due to prior contractual obligations at Universal Studios). For the lead, producer William Asher had only one gal in mind – his wife, Elizabeth Montgomery. The actress, born to Hollywood royalty had appeared in a reoccurring cameo on her father’s series, Robert Montgomery Presents. But by 1964, young Elizabeth was far more infamous for two failed marriages in short succession; the first, lasting less than a year, to stage manager Frederick Gallatin Cammann; the second, to alcoholic actor, Gig Young. As they say – ‘third time is the charm’ and, by all accounts, Asher and Montgomery were a winning team both on and off the screen…at least, for the duration of Bewitched’s original run. But when the show ended, so did their life together.

Bewitched’s instant popularity with fans (it was ABC’s #1 show on Thursday nights) gave cause for NBC to commission their own ‘supernatural’ series from Asher, who dusted off a thinly premised sit-com that would prove almost as good, if as well-liked: I Dream of Jeannie (1965-70). As the sixties heated up into a political hotbed of unsettling crises both at home and abroad, audiences abated their stress levels by tuning into primetime television and Bewitched fed this growing dependency to set aside the real world for something more tangibly appealing. In direct reply, and for the most part, TV programming in the 1960's harked back to the more fresh-faced wholesomeness of the fifties – mythical in its clean-cut sterility for good ‘ole fashioned’ entertainment. The powerhouse behind such pop-u-tainments was Screen Gems – the television offshoot of Columbia Pictures, helmed by Harry Ackerman. It was, in fact, Ackerman who first pitched the idea to screenwriter, Sol Saks for a new sitcom based on the life of an ‘almost’ non-practicing ‘witch’ living in the burbs with her mortal husband. Originally, the part was offered to Broadway star, Tammy Grimes, who reluctantly declined the offer, owing to prior commitments on the stage version of The Unsinkable Molly Brown; in hindsight, a blessing, since today it is virtually impossible to imagine anyone except Elizabeth Montgomery as Samantha Stevens.

The series also cast the perfect Darrin the first time out. Dick York had amassed impressive acting credits throughout the 1950’s in films and on television, appearing to good effect in support on such popular TV shows as Wagon Train, Rawhide, and, Alfred Hitchcock Presents, culminating in his high-profile big screen performance opposite Gene Kelly’s cynical reporter, in Stanley Kramer’s all-star, Inherit the Wind (1960). For the part of Endora, Samantha’s meddlesome mama, producers were genuinely stumped until Elizabeth Montgomery’s chance encounter with Agnes Moorehead inside a New York department store. The 4-time Oscar-nominated Moorehead, much admired for her acting skills was, at first, unimpressed by the offer. Still, between jobs and of the belief Bewitched would never last, Moorehead agreed to partake of its pilot and first season. For William Asher, the premise for the witchcraft needed a genuine feel. Thus, he landed upon the idea of using his wife’s nervous tick – a twitchy upper lip – as the trademarked catalyst for all the magical incantations to follow it. In later years, Elizabeth Montgomery would rue the day she ever agreed to this cue, tiresomely prodded by interviewers and fans alike to perform ‘the twitch’ in public, even some twenty odd years after Bewitched had gone off the air.

However, just as Bewitched’s pilot was set to begin shooting, the production was struck by a double whammy; the first obstacle, troubling only to immediate cast and crew; the second, afflicting the entire nation. Asher informed Ackerman that his wife was pregnant. No stranger to ‘writing in’ such a development, as had been done on I Love Lucy, on Bewitched an executive decision was reached to work around Elizabeth’s silently expanding girth; situating the actress behind furniture or simply photographing her from the neck up, and using a stand-in from the back, for long shots to keep the pregnancy a secret. But on Nov. 22, 1963, President Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas. For the Ashers, the loss was far more personal as they had been very close friends of the Kennedys. Despite the strain and shock of this tragedy and the pall it cast on the set, the decision was made to push forward with the shoot.  But before long, another concern loomed on the horizon. Dick York’s pain medication caused the actor to slur his words and become slightly incoherent on the set, causing costly delays. Ever the pro, York pushed beyond the pain. And to their credit, producers and sponsors stood behind York as their chosen candidate for the part of Darrin.

Despite all odds, network affiliates in the South and Midwest boycotting the show sight unseen on its premise alone, and, decidedly mixed reviews from the critics (TV Guide famously trashed the pilot), Bewitched’s debut in the fall of 1964 proved an instant and runaway smash with fans. Virtually all of the show’s appeal was wrapped up in Elizabeth Montgomery’s endearing portrait of a doting wife (and soon to be mother) who just happens to be a witch. Rewriting the mythology of witchcraft, Montgomery’s Samantha Stevens was the gal-pal every man wished for as his own. Better still, Bewitched wasted no time expanding its roster with some enviable ‘crazies’ to flesh out Samantha’s side of this nutty family tree; the irrepressible Marion Lorne as dotty Aunt Clara, Bernard Fox (frequently convoluted, as Dr. Bombay), Alice Ghostley, as the scatterbrain, Esmerelda, and, finally, devilish Paul Lynde as sly, playful and witty, Uncle Arthur. Lynde actually began his stint on Bewitched as a one-off driving instructor, driven half-mad by Samantha’s ineptitude behind the wheel. The pair got on so famously between takes that when the episode wrapped, Elizabeth went to her husband with the request to find something ‘more permanent for Lynde’s florid talents. And thus, the character of Uncle Arthur was born. Interestingly, Lynde’s larger-than-life presence was so enigmatic, in only 11 episodes he managed to establish himself as a central performer, integral to the cast.

In Season Two, twins Erin and Diane Murphy were hired as Darrin and Samantha’s offspring, Tabatha (the part eventually played exclusively by Erin) with other roles going to David White (Darrin’s stodgy boss, Larry Tate) Kasey Rogers (his wife, Louise after the original actress, Irene Vernon died) and, George Tobias and Alice Pearce as the Stevens’ nosy neighbors, Abner and Gladys Kravitz. Aside: Pearce’s passing in 1966 also necessitated her role be recast – less successfully – with Sandra Gould from 1966 until the end of the show’s run in 1971. To say the instant fame of Bewitched caught ABC and the other networks off guard is an understatement. NBC scrambled to find its own ‘supernatural’ sitcom, and, with Asher’s aid, found it in I Dream of Jeannie. Debuting one year behind Bewitched, I Dream of Jeannie would prove almost as popular with audiences, retiring one year ahead of its predecessor. The show even copied Bewitched by starting each episode with a spunky animated sequence.  

At the beginning of Bewitched’s second season, Asher announced Elizabeth was once again expecting. While producers had shied away from revealing the actress’ first pregnancy, this time they elected to do as Lucille Ball had during the run of I Love Lucy. A baby was written into the series, and, predictably, became one of the highlights of the mid-season ratings when Sam and Darrin welcomed Tabatha into their fold. (In real life, the Ashers had two sons.) In years yet to follow, Tabatha would slowly reveal dominant strains of her mother’s powers – another cause for concern among network affiliates, deftly handled by Asher, illustrating there was nothing sinful, wicked or evil – though occasionally, rather mischievous – about the art of casting spells. At the end of Season Two, Bewitched added another member to its cast; Samantha’s devious sister, Serena (also played by Montgomery as the frequently mini-skirted antithesis her more wholesome sister, destined to toy with the perfect balance of the couple’s happy home). But the biggest adjustment was yet to follow when ABC announced during the summer hiatus all subsequent seasons of Bewitched would be photographed in color. The sparkle of the series bedazzled audiences further still in its new vibrant hues. And Season Three continued Bewitched’s upswing in the Nielsen Ratings. By the end of Season Four, Bewitched still ranked in the Top 10 – periodically to hover in the top five. The show seemed unstoppable.

But behind the scenes, cracks were beginning to develop in this apparently indestructible franchise. During Season Five, Dick York could no longer hide his chronic back pain. The actor was struggling with addiction to prescription painkillers, simply to get him through a day’s shoot. On any given morning, Asher never knew whether his costar would be arriving on time or at all, leaving the production team in a quandary how best to maximize the efficiency of the day’s scheduling. To Asher’s credit, he kept much of York’s personal struggles from executives at ABC. York’s absences were explained away as temporary illnesses; Asher, rewriting episodes so York could shoot only its’ bookends: Darrin, leaving for work at the start of each episode and coming home just before the end credits to kiss his wife and daughter on the cheek. Audiences did not exactly warm to these episodes, as Elizabeth Montgomery was left to grapple with her oddball family and handle certain situations and crises on her own. “The whole point of the story was not about a witch…” Asher reasoned, “…but about a witch who was married to a mortal!” By the end of Season Five, Bewitched’s ratings had slightly dipped. Worse, Elizabeth expressed a desire not to continue.

ABC balked. Despite the lag, Bewitched was still one of their top-rated shows.  And so, with an undisclosed amount of money Asher would later describe only as ‘obscene’, a deal was struck between the network and the Ashers to remain on the air for four more years. Better still, the option was there for Elizabeth to pursue ‘other’ acting opportunities during the show’s down time; something the actress sincerely wanted. After five years, Montgomery had grown tired of playing TV’s ‘goody-goody’. Even her infrequent strides into naughtiness as Serena bored her now. Alas, Asher could no longer hide York’s condition from the network. After the summer hiatus, the actor returned to Bewitched, depleted but determined to partake of Season Six. Regrettably, after only a few pages into the first rehearsal, York suddenly collapsed on the set. He was rushed to hospital, having suffered a stroke that put him in a temporary coma. ABC lowered the boom on Asher. Recast the role of Darrin...or else. Begrudgingly, Asher turned to Dick Sargent, the actor initially slated for the part before York’s audition. This time Sargent, free of commitments, jumped at the opportunity to step into the hit show.

Predictably, the transition was hardly smooth. Despite his uncanny physical resemblances to York, Sargent was at the polar opposite of the acting spectrum; York’s eccentric mugging for the camera, replaced by Sargent’s more cerebral and subdued comedic styling. During the summer hiatus, ABC suggested several high concepts to explain away Sargent’s debut; everything from Samantha having divorced Darrin to marry another mortal, to Endora, finally achieving the ultimate revenge by altering Darrin’s looks in the hopes this would encourage her daughter to divorce her husband. Asher and Montgomery liked none of these suggestions. And so, Asher simply decided to run with the notion nothing had changed. Sargent was Darrin – period! In spite of Sargent’s winning charm on the set and his ability to play slapstick, audiences were not buying it. Between Season Six and Seven, Bewitched slipped in the Nielsen’s from #2 to #25. Even for its most diehard fans, the sparkle and magic had evaporated.

We should also consider how, at the end of the 1960’s the blind optimism that permeated the decade’s small screen entertainments suddenly gave way to the socially-minded and confrontational comedies of Norman Lear, whose All in the Family (1971-79) proved a zeitgeist into uncharted television territory. Furthermore, The Mary Tyler Moore Show had tapped into feminism, and a decided yen for the ‘new’ ‘progressive’ career woman. By these standards, Samantha Stevens’ stay-at-home wife and mother suddenly seemed clichéd and careworn. Gallantly, Bewitched endeavored to fulfill its commitments to ABC and Season Eight with the introduction of another child and the ongoing antics of Tabatha, firmly following in her mother’s footsteps as an apprentice witch. Just before the season finale, Elizabeth and Asher approached the network, expressing their desire to call it a day.  Despite having earlier agreed to a 4-year contract, of which the couple still owed the network one more year, ABC begrudgingly agreed. Bewitched had run its course. There were no more incantations to rescue its sagging ratings and rekindle what the show had once been. It was time to say goodbye. And thus, without much fanfare or farewell, Bewitched aired for the last time on March 25, 1972.

And yet, despite its unceremonious and rather quiet finale, Bewitched did not disappear from the public’s consciousness altogether. Endlessly revived on late night television or to fill dead air on a Saturday afternoon’s UHF channel, Bewitched continued to delight newcomers, experiencing the show for the very first time. It is a sincere pity life does not imitate art. But after Bewitched’s cancellation, Elizabeth Montgomery and William Asher also decided to call it a day. Asher moved on to produce other TV shows while Elizabeth struggled to carve a niche for herself that did not include revivals and discussions on the talk show circuit of what it had been like to have played everybody’s favorite witch. Although Montgomery would continue to work on TV, appearing in a highly acclaimed movie of the week as well as a short-lived murder mystery franchise, she never again scaled such heights in her career as those afforded her on Bewitched.

The news was even sadder for Dick York. After departing the series, the actor did not work again and continued his downward spiral into addiction. Moving his family from Hollywood to Michigan, York went the clean and sober route, beginning a successful charity – Acting for Life - to help the homeless, a decision brought on by his own bad investments in a real estate deal gone south, leaving the actor penniless. Alas, by now, York’s other vice – tobacco - had also caught up with him; a diagnosis of emphysema depriving the star of what little life remained. Dick York died in 1992 at age 62 – hellishly reduced to a gaunt whisper of his former self. After Bewitched, York’s replacement, Dick Sargent, continued to live as a closeted homosexual under constant scrutiny and fear of being ‘outed’ until 1991, when a tabloid threatened to expose the truth, forcing the actor to go public first and beat them to the punch. By 1991, the stigma of being gay had worn some and Sargent was rather pleasantly surprised at the outpouring of support for him. Three years earlier, he had been bitterly torn over not even being able to mourn the loss of his domestic partner of 22 years, Albert Williams. And Sargent’s own diagnosis of prostate cancer in 1989 left him further anxious and wondering whether people would ‘naturally’ assume he was dying from AIDS. As his condition worsened, Sargent called upon Elizabeth to accompany him as 1992’s Grand Marshal in LA’s Gay Pride Parade. Two years later, Sargent lost his battle with cancer, age 64. In one of those Hollywood ironies that never ceases to amaze, Elizabeth Montgomery followed her costar barely one year later after being diagnosed with an aggressive strain of colon cancer that quickly overtook her. She was only 62 too.  

Bewitched today remains a fondly remembered cultural touchstone from America’s beloved television past; one of those perennially classics to be revived and even parodied. Despite changing times, the show never fails to garner new fans when it is rerun on cable networks. It even endured the humiliation of a laborious big screen reboot in 2005, costarring Will Ferrell and Nicole Kidman – a forgettable travesty by all accounts. Bewitched has been out on DVD for some years now, Sony Home Entertainment releasing competing editions that featured the first two seasons in either B&W (as they originally aired) or in colorized editions (not certain, to satisfy who) that, on the whole, do not look as terrible as one might first anticipate (given the limitations of colorization in general…although the B&W versions are still very much preferred).

Ironically, when Sony elected to reissue all of Bewitched as a box set, it only included the colorized versions in this deluxe set. Odd…and dumb! Still, it is this Sony box set that is preferred over the studio’s even more ludicrous executive logic to farm out the entire series to third-party distributor, Mill Creek, for individually marketed seasons, and, yet another box set from Mill Creek that retains the B&W originals of the first two seasons. So, why is the Sony set still preferred over the Mill Creek release?

Well, the reason is quite simple. Sony’s DVD authoring is superior, spreading out less episodes per disc, it has preserved the audio/video integrity of each episode. The Mill Creek set, in an effort to cram more episodes per disc, suffers from some truly horrendous macro blocking and chroma bleeding, not to mention edge effects and compression artifacts that make their set virtually unwatchable on newer HD monitors. The Sony set is, regrettably, not without its glitches either; chiefly edge effects, intermittently featured. Also, as already mentioned, the Sony set only includes the colorized versions of the first two seasons. So, from a purist’s standpoint, not exactly the way Bewitched ought to be remembered. Nevertheless, the Sony set still wins the popular vote for its superior DVD authoring. Aside: Sony has recently announced it will release a deluxe Blu-ray box set of Jim Hensen’s Fraggle Rock – a series shot on tape, not film. Why do I bring this up? Simply, in the hopes that if this Blu-ray set does well, it might encourage the studio to dig deeper into its more vintage TV catalog to remaster and reissue shows like Bewitched (shot on film – not tape, and therefore, a far more viable candidate for this deluxe treatment) also, shows like Hart to Hart, Fantasy Island (both film-based) and Designing Women (tape). Will it happen? Hmmm. Wait and see. For now, binge-watching Bewitched on DVD is a reminder of a simpler time. It is small screen ‘feel good’ entertainment of the highest order.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

Seasons 1-3 – 4.5

Seasons 4-5 – 3.5

Season 6-8 – 2.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

Colorized Seasons 1-2 – 3.5 

(turn off the color on your set if you do not approve)

Seasons 3-8 – 4

EXTRAS

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