Think of “The Mary Tyler Moore Show” without Ted Knight’s Ted Baxter or Betty White’s Sue Ann Nivens, or “Seinfeld” without Julia Louis-Dreyfus’ Elaine or Michael Richards’ Kramer or Jason Alexander’s George. Imagine Lucy without Ethel, or “Taxi” without Andy Kaufman’s Latka, or “The Honeymooners” without Art Carney’s Ed Norton. How about “Cybill” without Christine Baranski’s Maryann, or “The Larry Sanders Show” without Jeffrey Tambor as sidekick Hank Kingsley?
They just don’t work. The situation comedy is simply unimaginable without the supporting characters who create the situation.
And you can see more and more of them at center stage, because the sitcom–a form derived from radio but immortalized by television–has never been more popular. The 1995-96 television season is marked by the debuts of 23 new situation comedies, which only begins to tell you how many will compete for your attention. NBC’s top-rated “Seinfeld” is ready to roll out new weekly episodes on the network–even as the old ones are shown five nights a week in syndication. “Home Improvement” and “Frasier” bounce back and forth at the top of the ratings. Nick at Nite mines the vintage comedy lode with nightly reruns of “I Love Lucy,” “The Dick Van Dyke Show,” “Bewitched,” “The Munsters,” “I Dream of Jeannie,” “Mary Tyler Moore,” “Taxi” and “Welcome Back, Kotter.” Even in real life, the “Cheers” bar at the Bull and Finch pub outdoes the Paul Revere House and Old Ironsides as Boston’s most popular tourist attraction.
While the stars and writers, producers and directors of these shows deserve credit, it’s often the supporting cast adding the extra ingredient that makes some programs go on forever. Quite often, it’s the players with their names below the title who give a situation comedy its “legs.” The sitcom form, a character-driven genre, allows plenty of room for the supporting players to dance.
In fact, the supporting cast members are like the goof-offs in school–the kids you never forget, who got to sit in the back and throw spitballs and make wisecracks while the star had to sit in the front row, get straight A’s, obey the teacher and act as a foil for friendly adversaries.
Among the current practitioners, nobody knows the territory better than Christine Baranski. A two-time Tony Award winner, she’s also this year’s Emmy winner as best supporting actress in a comedy series–as Maryann Thorpe, Cybill Shepherd’s best friend in “Cybill.” Baranski’s Maryann is a tough-talking, sexy lady who often gets to say and do the things that Cybill can’t. Maryann stalks her ex-husband and peeps at men through a telescope.
Baranski says her supporting role is terrific, but the emphasis is still on “support.”
“You can only be as free and funny as the star will allow,” she says from her home in Connecticut. “At first, playing somebody’s best friend didn’t appeal to me. The producers described it as a buddy show between two women in their 40s and they insisted on flying me out to L.A. to meet Cybill. Well, if I’m going to play someone’s best friend, it might as well be Cybill–she’s great. She’s got a wonderful sense of humor about her up-and-down life.”
Team players
You need to have talented supporting cast members who understand their roles, says Sheldon Leonard, who began his career as a supporting actor–stereotyped as a gangster in films such as “Guys and Dolls”–before becoming a successful producer of such situation comedies as “The Dick Van Dyke Show” and “The Danny Thomas Show.”
“I like to think of the relationship in terms of a sports team,” Leonard continues. “You might have a player on your ball team who hits .300 and has 30 home runs, but if the other teammates resent his success, it’s hard to win games. The same thing goes with TV. If the star is only concerned with his own career and how he comes off, then you’re in trouble. On the contrary, if he leaves plenty of room for the other cast members, everyone looks good and the show has a shot to become a hit.”
This relationship between the star and the supporting cast is crucial, not only in front of the camera but also behind it.
One person who has seen the issue played out on both sides is Garry Marshall, who produced several hit sitcoms and also plays Stan, the network boss, on “Murphy Brown.” The writer/producer of such shows as “The Odd Couple,” “Happy Days,” “Laverne and Shirley” and “Mork and Mindy” (and the author of “Wake Me When It’s Funny”) recently spoke about the unique chemistry between stars and supporting players in the situation comedy.
“When I’m casting a movie, I hire the most talented cast because I only have to put up with them for 12 weeks,” says Marshall, whose movie-directing credits include “The Flamingo Kid” and “Pretty Woman.” “When I’m casting a sitcom, I want to create a team–so I cast with people I’m willing to live with for years. And one of the most important casting decisions is to cast the adult first. Tom Bosley on `Happy Days’ and Phil Foster on `Laverne and Shirley.’ You need someone in the cast who isn’t nuts. Also, if the star doesn’t want a supporting cast member to flourish, it won’t happen. Henry Winkler became a star on `Happy Days’ because Ron Howard let him. The star needs to be generous. If the star isn’t generous, then you can be in very big trouble with the rest of the cast.”
One supporting player who knows his place is Jeffrey Tambor, who plays Hank Kingsley, Larry Sanders’ sidekick, on HBO’s “The Larry Sanders Show.” Teamed with Rip Torn as the show’s smarmy producer, Tambor looks to develop Kingsley within certain well-defined parameters.
“I’m a sidekick playing a sidekick,” says Tambor from his home in Los Angeles. “The character himself gives support, so it makes it easier. I know this sounds corny, but to support means to support. You can’t have an overwhelming ego. Also, you can’t let the character think he’s not essential. When you think about it, every role is supporting. The main character is supporting us as much as we’re supporting him or her. I know playing a sidekick has its pejorative side but I don’t ever think of it that way. But the one thing that can ruin everything is if the cast doesn’t have that certain chemistry. You don’t even have to like each other, but you need that chemistry. That’s what makes the magic.”
Sheldon Leonard agrees. “It is magic,” he says. “You put all the ingredients together and hope they ignite. If they do, it’s special.”
Emmy nominee Liz Torres of “The John Larroquette Show” says she loves her part as Mahalia, the outspoken, upfront night clerk at the St. Louis bus station where the series is set. But there are extra dimensions to deal with because she is Hispanic. “They had seen every single Hispanic actress in the world,” she says from her home in Los Angeles. “I couldn’t believe they gave it to me. But they did. And I couldn’t be happier. It’s important to get more Hispanics on television and I don’t mean just me.”
Torres, who refers to herself as “Queen of the Pilots” because she has performed in so many unsold series, thinks that the supporting players are luckier than the stars.
“When you get to be the big boss of the set, you carry the football–the plot,” she says. “Everyone else gets to have fun. I get to play a character without worrying about anything else. There’s a special freedom in that.”
Expanded role
This season, according to “Larroquette” producer Mitchell Hurwitz, “we’re going to find out more about how Mahalia juggles her work schedule with four kids. We haven’t seen enough of her.”
That sort of exploration can actually lead to problems. When supporting characters are called on to do more than lend support, a show’s chemistry can be upset.
“There’s a very thin line between the star accepting a supporting cast member and not accepting them,” says Leonard. “There is usually no problem when it’s clear who the star is. But when the supporting cast member starts to get some attention and the star begins to see him or her as a threat, it can get a little crazy.”
The ego doesn’t all come from one direction, either: Many supporting performers, despite claims to the contrary, would like nothing better than to have a show of their own.
“Everyone usually starts on the right foot,” says Marshall. “But this is an ego-driven business and egos often get in the way, no matter how hard you try to avoid it.”
Marshall says supporting players rarely get the credit, but are often the keys to success.
“I look for a Bob Cousy type when I’m casting a new situation comedy,” he says, referring to the former Boston Celtics great. “Someone who can deliver the feed lines but can also score when necessary. Someone who keeps the team going but thinks first of the team and not himself. A guy who doesn’t need to see his name in the headlines.”
Finally, though, the supporting cast must be populated by characters we look forward to seeing every week. That is the peculiar requirement of success in a series.
This season’s contenders for most likely to make it over the long haul include Brad Garrett’s gay lawyer in NBC’s “The Pursuit of Happiness,” Mariska Hargitay’s wisecracking best friend to Nancy McKeon in CBS’ “Can’t Hurry Love” and Holland Taylor as Tea Leoni’s editor in ABC’s “The Naked Truth.” They will all be trying to join a unique fraternity of unforgettable afterthoughts.
Whether it’s Jason Alexander’s George on “Seinfeld” lying to a date about his past to make himself more attractive or Rhea Perlman’s Carla insulting Shelley Long’s Diane on “Cheers,” the characters have to emerge from the background without ever outliving their welcome in our living rooms. The best never do.
