Golden Girls Forever

by Jim Colucci

  The vacuum-sealed money booth on Grab That Dough.

  Photo courtesy of the EDWARD S. STEPHENSON ARCHIVE at the ART DIRECTORS GUILD.

  COMMENTARY: Two things always seem to get the Girls in trouble—greed, and their competitive natures—and both are on display in this cautionary game show tale. Still, they get to spend time in the presence of the show’s host, Guy Corbin, who Rose calls “the cutest game show host on TV . . . like Gene Rayburn, Chuck Woolery, and Bob Eubanks all rolled up in one.” (And after her storied marriage to Password host Allen Ludden, Betty White ought to know.) This episode provides viewers with a treat, in the form of one of the show’s silliest stunts, as Dorothy dons an apron and goggles, and Grabs That Dough—although, as noted below, the moment initially inspired panic in Bea Arthur.

  In other trivia, when Sophia says, “Picture it: Sicily,” have you ever wondered exactly where you should be picturing? Well this episode reveals the octogenarian’s former address on the Italian isle: “Two miles west of Palermo, underneath the old bridge.”

  WINIFRED HERVEY: We were always looking for new combinations of the four characters, and this episode allowed us to team Dorothy and Blanche against Sophia and Rose in a way we hadn’t done before. I think we all came up with the concept for “Grab That Dough” together in the writers’ room—and now we had to build this big machine with the cash inside it. I remember Harry Waterson was our budget guy, and he was really wary about the cost. But we writers on The Golden Girls were lucky in that we were able to write what we thought would work, and our production team would make it happen.

  MICHAEL HYNES (associate designer): When we got the heads-up about this game show episode, we had only two days to put it all together—including the money booth Bea would be in. So we did what we could in the time we had. We found this transparent cabinet, which had a floor that we removed, and we added the mechanism to blow the money around.

  It really was a tight squeeze inside that thing. And Bea wouldn’t let us close the door on it until we shot it. So we rehearsed with the door open. But the whole thing was a nightmare, trying to get the money to fly around in that thing, because with the door not closed tight there was no vacuum and it wouldn’t work. So we didn’t really know if and how the stunt was ever going to work properly until we shot it in front of the audience.

  BEA ARTHUR: I loved doing silly things like this game show. We had done a game show on Maude called Beat the Devil, where Rue and I had mallets and had to hit this little devil statue on the head. My thoughts about doing little stunts like this were just like those about doing any of the other stuff that we did: if something served a purpose at the time and was funny, then I enjoyed getting to do it.

  LUCY LEE FLIPPIN: To get the lines out, as this horrible person in a funny scene, I had to use all of my skills not to break up.

  At one point, during the run-through, I was standing there, looking at these four famous faces, of women I’d totally admired forever—and I was so overwhelmed that I went completely blank. Luckily, I snapped out of it, and was fine in front of the audience. Besides, the atmosphere seemed very tolerant there. The ladies had been together for a while at that point, and all seemed to get along so well, to the point that they even seemed to talk to each other in their own secret language.

  SOPHIA

  “I’ve got something in this old lady purse that’s going to make you scream, holler, and jump for joy.”

  BLANCHE:

  “Are the batteries included?”

  EPISODE 66

  DOROTHY’S NEW FRIEND

  Written by: ROBERT BRUCE & MARTIN WEISS Directed by: TERRY HUGHES Original airdate: JANUARY 16, 1988

  Dorothy feels like she’s stuck in a rut, until she attends a lecture given by glamorous and sophisticated local novelist Barbara Thorndyke (Bonnie Bartlett). The two become fast friends; but on her first visit to Richmond Street, the snooty blonde elicits quite a different reaction from Rose and Blanche.

  Soon Dorothy is skipping movie dates with the Girls in order to attend pretentious theater events with the imperious authoress. Over lunch one day, Dorothy confesses to Barbara that their friendship has left the other Girls feeling left out. And although Barbara flat-out states that she thinks Blanche and Rose are “limited,” she invites everyone and their dates to a swank evening at the exclusive Mortimer Club. But when the night of their group date arrives—and so does Sophia’s new squeeze Murray Guttman (Monty Ash, 1909–98)—Barbara calls Dorothy in to the kitchen to reveal a problem: Jewish surnames like Guttman are not welcome at the restricted Mortimer. As Barbara shrugs off the anti-Semitic policy as something out of her control, Dorothy finally sees the ugliness behind Barbara’s polished patrician exterior. After dismissing the phony for good, Dorothy apologizes to Blanche and Rose, and even offers that after all the practice she’s had lately, she’d be honored to partake in Rose’s two-person masquerade ball costume, and dress as the horse’s behind.

  COMMENTARY: We know Rose can come off dumb, but Blanche, too? Yes, she may be obsessed with Elvis to the point she’s willing to believe tabloid tales told from beyond the grave. But the woman does work in an art museum, after all; so surely we can grant her some level of sophistication. Obviously, then, it’s Barbara who isn’t very astute, in confusing Blanche’s somehow endearing shallowness with plain old simplemindedness.

  This episode’s theme—of an interloper causing friction in a beloved friendship—and even its denouement are strikingly similar to a 1972 episode of The Mary Tyler Moore Show, “Some of My Best Friends Are Rhoda,” in which Mary Richards’s new pal Joanne, played by Mary Frann, similarly discourages Mary from inviting her Jewish bestie, Rhoda Morgenstern, to join their tennis match at her club. Of course, there are only so many ideas under the sitcom sun, and the best themes bear repeating. Still, “it would have helped if we had just had The Mary Tyler Moore Show’s bible,” jokes Golden Girls executive producer Terry Grossman. Adds his wife and fellow showrunner Kathy Speer, “We stole from the best.”

  Here in the “Mary Frann role” is Bonnie Bartlett, who appeared with her husband, William Daniels, on such shows as ABC’s Boy Meets World and NBC’s St. Elsewhere, for which Bonnie won two Emmy Awards in 1986 and 1987 for Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Drama Series.

  ROBERT BRUCE: Obviously, Dorothy couldn’t stay friendly with this outside character, and she had to get back in with Rose and Blanche. So we needed something about Barbara that would be much more reprehensible than just being snobby. That’s why we ended up making her anti-Semitic, because Dorothy is clearly not going to stand for that.

  When we were writing the script, I named Sophia’s boyfriend after a real guy named Murray Guttman, a big construction guy in my hometown of Cincinnati. I thought it would be fun to put in somebody’s real name. Nowadays, studios do a “clearance” process, where they won’t let us use the name of anybody who they find to exist in the United States. But back then, all they checked for the show was Miami, and there was no Murray Guttman there. Many years later, I saw the real Murray Guttman at my father’s funeral. He came up to me, and I wondered if he knew about the show, and if he did what he would say. It turns out he was really appreciative. “It’s one of the better things that’s happened to me—my name was on The Golden Girls!”

  BONNIE BARTLETT: Figuring out who Barbara Thorndyke was was very easy for me—because she was just like my mother. The only thing that made me nervous was being on such a good comic show and worrying that I wasn’t going to be very funny. Bea was very friendly in helping me through it, and so was Rue. Rue even told me that after getting hired on Maude, she had had the same worries. She didn’t think of herself specifically as a comedian, and she was such a wreck the first year, worrying about getting laughs, she ended up seeing a psychiatrist. It made me feel better, because look at what a great job she always did!

  I didn’t want to overplay the part, and make Barbara too obviously rotten from the start. But then I was also worried I wasn’t d
oing enough. Well, I must have been, because I sure did get a reaction. When we came out in the beginning, the audience was all smiles. But by the end of the show when we came out to take our bows, everyone was looking at me as if they hated me. And during my last scene with Dorothy, they literally booed me. Here I was, coming off St. Elsewhere where I’d gotten two Emmys for playing this wonderful lady. So I was a little shaken. My husband, Bill, had come to one of the two tapings, and afterward, he said to me: “Bonnie, I don’t think you should ever play a Jew hater again. Because they’re going to boo you.” I had to wonder why didn’t I think of these things!

  “Rose, sweetheart, this Friday I can choose between rubbing elbows with Norman Mailer, or doing the hokey-pokey in a horse costume with your behind in my face.”

  —DOROTHY

  EPISODE 67

  BLANCHE’S LITTLE GIRL

  Written by: KATHY SPEER & TERRY GROSSMAN Directed by: TERRY HUGHES Original airdate: JANUARY 9, 1988

  After a four-year estrangement, Blanche’s daughter Rebecca is about to visit. Blanche is eager to put their disagreement, about her daughter’s pursuit of a career as a Parisian fashion model, behind them—and indeed once she lays eyes on the now-plus-sized Rebecca (Shawn Schepps), the argument does seem moot. The real problem now is Rebecca’s relationship with her verbally abusive boyfriend, Jeremy (Joe Regalbuto).

  For two weeks, Blanche keeps her opinion of the guy to herself, afraid of losing her daughter once more. But finally, as the two prepare to elope, she begs Rebecca to reconsider. As feared, Rebecca sees her concern as more meddling, and seems doubly determined to marry the jerk—until Blanche’s words sink in on the way to the airport, bringing Rebecca back to thank her mother for reminding her of her self-worth.

  Meanwhile, fed up with mistreatment from her manager at Pecos Pete’s Chow Wagon, Sophia rallies coworkers Mildred and Edna to strike. At a conference around the Girls’ kitchen table, teenage tyrant McCracken (Scott Menville) responds to Sophia’s list of demands with a decision to fire them all. But luckily, as the kid’s grandmother, Edna (Meg Wyllie, 1917–2002), has one last negotiating tactic up her sleeve, blackmailing the brat by threatening to reveal the true story of how his father’s car got dented.

  COMMENTARY: This episode marks the first time we meet Blanche’s daughter Rebecca—the first of her kids we ever see, and yet the one Blanche seemingly forgot to mention earlier in the season, when in episode fifty-two, “Bringing Up Baby,” she listed her four children: Skippy, Biff, Doug, and Janet. It’s also the only time we’ll ever see Shawn Schepps in the Rebecca role.

  RUE McCLANAHAN: It was lovely doing this episode, and I felt that this was an important storyline. I travel everywhere to give speeches, all around the country, and people have come up to me in person to tell me how important this episode was to them.

  SHAWN SCHEPPS: The episode was about Rebecca learning to find self-esteem despite her size, and so when I met with the producers they asked me to wear a padded “fat suit,” which made me about three sizes bigger. The ironic thing was that I myself was suffering from the same kind of abuse from my boyfriend. I had been an actress since age six, and even then, my agent had told my parents to watch my weight. I had told my boyfriend how hurtful that had been, and he would use those memories against me and go on these fat rages, which was awful.

  My life mirrored what was going on in the script, but I was too young to see that mirror. I just compartmentalized, going to work, doing the role, and then coming home and getting shit about being fat. But then, shortly after I did this episode, he wanted to get married, and I knew that would be the worst, so I broke up with him. Now I realize that my decision definitely could have been subconsciously affected by having played out Rebecca’s story.

  JOE REGALBUTO: My character was such an outrageously awful guy that everyone had fun teasing me about it after we’d rehearse a scene. Joking with me—“You are nasty!”—was one of the ways that amazing cast made me as a guest actor feel at home.

  As a guest you’re there to be a foil for the regular characters, and it’s fun to be able to make the most of it and be just a beast. It certainly wasn’t a dull or bland part, which is why I think today, almost three decades later, I still get stopped by fans. I always think the person is going to mention Murphy Brown, and very often that’s the case, but it’s amazing how many times someone will bring up this episode. “I just saw it again last night—and wow, were you a prick!”

  BLANCHE:

  “We were always so much alike, and so close, just like Siamese twins.”

  SOPHIA:

  “It’s a shame when they separated you, you got both butts.”

  EPISODE 68

  MY BROTHER, MY FATHER

  Written by: MORT NATHAN & BARRY FANARO Directed by: TERRY HUGHES Original airdate: FEBRUARY 6, 1988

  With Sophia’s brother Angelo (Bill Dana), a priest in Sicily, about to visit the States, the old lady needs a big favor: for Dorothy and Stan (Herb Edelman) to pretend they’re still a couple, living together—but without Blanche or Rose—under one roof. Dorothy accedes to Sophia’s begging, realizing the ruse will last merely for an afternoon’s visit. But when a brewing hurricane then forces closure of Miami’s airport, trapping the group together for days, Dorothy doubts her ability to continue putting up with her “husband,” Stan.

  Worse yet, after Rose idiotically suggests that the two celebrate their “fortieth wedding anniversary” as her parents once had—by renewing their marriage vows—Stan warms to the idea, because reminiscing with Dorothy in her bedroom overnight has rekindled loving feelings. But just as he tries to convince her to let her uncle remarry them, it’s Angelo who comes out with the bombshell revelation: he’s not a priest, and never was. En route to the seminary in Palermo in 1914, he got turned on by the behind of barmaid Filomena, married her, and lived happily for seventy-two (!) years.

  Meanwhile, Blanche, who is used to sleeping her way into lead roles, is upset when she and Rose land mere supporting parts, as nuns, in The Sound of Music—because the theater’s new director is gay.

  COMMENTARY: Uncle Angelo mentions that in 1914 Sicily he promised their dear sainted mother on her deathbed that he would become a priest. Well, it turns out he’s not the only liar in the family. Their dear sainted mother must have faked her own death, because as we see just eight episodes later, there she is in 1957 Brooklyn, elderly, crotchety—and played by Bea Arthur, no less. It’s just one more example of how, while the Golden Girls writers were great at creating comedy, they were not so great at continuity or building a convincing family tree.

  Another example of The Golden Girls landing big guest stars is with Bill Dana, whose career had been intertwined with that of Tony Thomas and his family since the early 1960s. After developing his popular comic character, Jose Jimenez, Bill brought Jose as an elevator operator to Danny Thomas’s sitcom Make Room for Daddy and soon to his own spinoff The Bill Dana Show, where Jose became a bellhop in a New York hotel. After segueing into TV writing—penning the famous installment of All in the Family, “Sammy’s Visit,” in which Archie Bunker has a tête-à-tête with superstar Sammy Davis, Jr.—Bill would return to The Golden Girls four more times as Uncle Angelo in its later seasons, and in the episode “Valentine’s Day,” would play Sophia and Angelo’s father, also named Angelo, as well.

  Betty and Rue maneuver their giant wimples backstage.

  Sharing a laugh between scenes (left to right) Herb Edelman, Bill Dana, Bea Arthur, Betty White, and Rue McClanahan.

  Photos by WAYNE WILLIAMS. ARCHIVES at the ART DIRECTORS GUILD.

  LEX PASSARIS (associate director): Sometimes on a sitcom there’s a reveal that’s so good that you want to get the audience’s initial reaction, so you have to find a way to hide the actors until the right moment. You often do that to cover the entrance of a surprise guest star. I remember we had done a “rolling black,” a moving screen, to hide Burt Reynolds (in season two, “Ladies of the Evening”).

&n
bsp; At the top of act two, after the commercial break, there’s the great visual of Uncle Angelo sitting in the middle of the couch, surrounded by Blanche and Rose, dressed as nuns. It’s such a funny picture, and Terry knew we were going to get a huge laugh. So we dropped a curtain in front of the audience—what we’d later dub the Terry Hughes Curtain of Comedy. At the time, we thought it sort of bent the rules with the audience, who feel like they’re at your taping so they can see everything. Now, though, it’s done all the time.

  Terry came over to the crowd and made a speech on the microphone. “You’ve been such a gracious audience. Now I want you to watch the monitors over your heads, because something very special is happening.” We began the scene, with the three-shot of Bill and the two ladies, and the laugh started. We then cut around the room, to Dorothy, to Stan. Not a word had been spoken yet in the scene, but we got, I believe, a solid minute and a half of laughter. Obviously, some of that had to be cut. But it was because the situation had been set up so perfectly.

  BILL DANA: From the first time I read this script, I read it in an Italian accent, because Angelo was visiting from Sicily. I was very familiar with the accent, because growing up in Quincy, Mass., I lived next door to the DiMatteo family, and all those guys talka like dees. I’m good with accents and languages; I would never get lost in France, or Germany, or Spain, or Italy. So with this character, his speech seemed really automatic to me. I don’t remember ever having a discussion with the producers about why Sophia spoke with a Brooklyn accent, and yet her brother talka like dees. It was never a consideration. We just did what we thought was funny.