The death of a good TV series should not always provoke tears and outrage. Though there are a pitifully small number of intelligent
entertainments on TV, the death of certain shows can often be cause for celebration when they have had fruitful TV lives that leave a lasting impression in viewers` minds and on the medium itself.
And so, celebrate the achievements and laugh-filled memories produced by the Huxtable clan as it makes its farewell appearance in a special one-hour episode at 7 p.m. Thursday on NBC-Ch. 5. That will be it for ”The Cosby Show,” except in that weird afterlife called reruns: the end of a remarkable, lucrative and meaningful eight-year TV life.
Much has been written in the last couple of weeks about the changes this program wrought on the TV landscape; the bank-account-swelling effect it had on NBC; and, as expressed by Rachal Jones in the accompanying essay, its ability to influence and even inspire.
I have written many times about my affection for this warm and literate show. I`m not now going to add much in the eulogy department. Nor am I about to spoil the finale by providing the snappiest sections of its dialogue or giving you any other pertinent details.
It is called ”The Graduate,” and I will tell you that the plot centers on the graduation of Theo (Malcolm-Jamal Warner) from New York University.
This completes a nifty, thoughtfully constructed full circle-and one with a typically soft, but firm, message-for in the show`s first episode one plotline involved Theo`s coming home with a disastrous report card.
That first episode appeared Sept. 20, 1984, and now ”The Cosby Show”
departs as the sitcom viewed by the most people in the history of TV and the force that single-handledly pulled NBC to the top of the network heap.
It was a surprise to almost everyone.
In 1984, the hot TV format was the sex-soaked soap, as exemplified by
”Dynasty” and ”Dallas.” Some industry analysts at the time even expressed doubts that the sitcom was still a viable TV form, even though such shows as ”Kate & Allie” and ”Newhart” clung in the Top 20 of the ratings. So down was sitcom stock that both ABC and CBS took a pass on ”The Cosby Show.”
Bill Cosby reinvigorated the form, dramatically and in the most unexpected fashion. His show has been one of the tamest in the history of the medium, a family comedy concerned with the everyday minutiae of family life.
In some cases, episodes were without the comedic payoff-the sizzling, insult-stained one-liners-to which viewers had become numbly accustomed.
This was Cosby`s way: He began as a standup comedian decades ago, weaving stories based on real people and experiences, twisted slightly to provoke laughter.
His show`s humor grew naturally from situations rather than the sitcom formula of zingers. When Cosby came along, TV was filled with fatuous fireworks best exemplified by the catch phrase ”Dy-no-mite,” employed by Jimmie Walker on ”Good Times.”
But it wasn`t merely Cosby`s story-telling sensibilities that made the show successful. It was his way with handling authority.
The success of the show rested in large part on the fact that Cosby had complete control and could thereby exercise his black sensibility, which he did by presenting positive images wrapped in good humor.
The show was always neatly written. The characters who made up the ever-growing cast were warm and genuine. The Huxtables were a happy family, never touched by racism and discrimination. They were black, and proud of it, but they never shouted their pride. Rather, it was a quiet part of the show`s fabric.
Those who charged-and there were more than a few-that the show was too cozy and consumer-driven, failed to understand that Cosby and his program, though mildly progressive, were never intended to represent the experiences of all blacks. Instead, by accurately depicting one segment of black society, Cosby was a pioneer in the latest effort to give blacks a more assertive, realistic TV presence.
Coretta Scott King once called the show ”the most positive portrayal of black family life that has ever been broadcast.” I have no reason to argue.
Five years ago, while writing a story for TV Guide, I interviewed Malcolm-Jamal Warner in a trailer parked behind St. Sabina`s church on the South Side. He was a kid, here to film ”The Father Clements Story,” his first non-”Cosby” venture. After the requisite back-and-forth about the film, the conversation drifted to his passion for basketball and then to his TV series.
”What will you do when the show is over?” I asked.
”Over,” he said. ”Why would it ever be over?”
He`s more experienced now. He grew up on ”The Cosby Show.” We watched him. And as he and the other cast members Thursday toss dust onto the series` grave, they can move proudly on to other projects knowing that they have not only provided honest laughter, but also helped change for the better the face of network TV.
That`s a legacy worth celebrating.
