BEING THE RICARDOS -- my review

I love Aaron Sorkin’s writing.  I wish I could do what he does.  When he is on his game I’m amazed someone can write that well and that deep that fast.  It almost seems like the brilliance is effortless.  What an extraordinary gift. 

But there’s one thing I can do that Sorkin apparently can’t and that is write comedy.  I’m certainly not saying it’s a better skill, just different.  But I think it drives Sorkin crazy.  (Not because of me specifically but all comedy writers.)   It’s the one club he can’t join.   Why it bothers him, I do not know.  His skill garners Oscars.  Mine —  $.02 residual checks.  

But it obviously does.  There’s a pattern.  We’ve seen it in STUDIO 60; we see it in BEING THE RICARDOS.  Comedy writers are always portrayed as talentless hacks that get the shit beaten out of them by smarter, better producers or actors.   Even in THE WEST WING, a show I adored, the president’s staff were enlisted to write jokes for the president because his assigned comedy writers were not funny. 

Sorkin takes every opportunity to belittle the writers.  At one point “Bill Frawley” says something amusing and writer Madelyn Pugh points out it was funnier than anything her partner, Bob Carroll has written.  Ouch!  And they're a team.  Why was that necessary?   It seems that any flashes of humor, from anyone in this movie, is put downs.  

Not being a member of the club, Sorkin has a somewhat distorted view of the sitcom process.  In his conception, as seen in both STUDIO 60 and certainly in BEING THE RICARDOS, the production of a comedy show is an utterly joyless endeavor.   Now, that’s not to suggest it’s a 24/7 party — it’s not.  It’s hard work, long hours, and lots of analysis as to what’s funny and what could make it funnier.  

But there’s also lots of laughter.  Even on bad shows.  You laugh every day.  You’re not doing O’Neill.  Are there actors who hate each other?  Yep.  Are there stars who make things unpleasant for everyone on the set?  You betcha.  But I want to tell you — the worse it is on the stage, the funnier it is up in the room.  The humor may be vicious as we blow off steam, but there are belly laughs.  When was the last time you had a belly laugh in your job?  

Now in the case of I LOVE LUCY, I was privileged to know two of the writers (not shown in the movie) — Bob Schiller & Bob Weiskopf.  They wrote on the show for years.  I heard plenty of Lucy stories.  I was envious of their experience.  I sure wouldn’t be if the process was as dreary as this film suggests. 

In BEING THE RICARDOS, only Lucy knows what’s funny.  Not the writers, not the milquetoast director, not the other actors, not the network.   Just Lucy.   And she operates in a tactless emasculating manner.   Sorkin tries to show that she was under a lot of pressure to justify this behavior, and it’s hard to justify when all the crises were lumped into one week that never happened.  It was a creative convention.  And I don’t fault him for that.  That’s just good storytelling — consolidate events to make one manageable narrative.  Sorkin takes a lot of creative license and liberty with the facts in all of his biopics (no one said "firewalls" in 1952 - they were invented 35 years later).  And I know it's a tricky dance.  The alternative is generally boring linear stories.  The trouble comes when you're dealing with real life individuals.  Juggling events or combining events to create a story is fine when the events themselves are truly depicted.  There are a few times in this film where that is not the case.  The ending, for example, never happened and is absurd. 

But getting back to the process, good sitcoms are collaborative.  I LOVE LUCY wasn’t just good; it was great.  Are there stars that have no respect for writers and run roughshod over them?   Hello Roseanne.  Hello Cybil.  Hello Bret.  And what happens?  The writers leave.  Actually they run.  But that wasn't the case here.  Shortly before her death Lucy did a commentary about I LOVE LUCY.  This is what she actually said: 

"Many times when we would review at the beginning of the season, they would say Viv and I ad-libbed our way through some mediocre writing.  They have since found out that that was ridiculous. They know how great our writers are because hundreds of people have copied from them. I have such respect for those kids, my writers I call ‘the kids,’ Bob and Madelyn.”

So that bothered me.  But I’m in the industry.  If you’re not in the industry, you might not be bothered by it at all.  There’s a lot to like in this film.  Javier Bardem stole the picture for my money. “I Love Desi.”  J.K. Simmons gave him a run for his money as Fred.  Nina Arianda was fantastic as Ethel.   As for Nicole Kidman, she's a gifted actress who gave it her all, but how do you cast someone who can't move her face to play Lucille Ball, who thrived on her many comic expressions?  There was nothing about Kidman's performance that even suggested this was a funny lady, much less the all-time queen of TV comedy. She got the voice down, and I appreciate that she tried to make the character real and not just an impersonation, but I'm sorry, if you're playing Lucy, moving your face is as signature as red hair.

Again, the pluses: For Sorkin fans like me, his signature whip-smart dialogue was all there.  Some great lines and speeches.  And these characters don’t all sound alike (although it would be fun if they did… if they all sounded like Desi).  

I guess I just felt a little hurt by the film.  As a proud comedy writer I felt lumped in with the writers who were portrayed as hack footstools.  Is that how Aaron Sorkin sees me?  It stings a little because I think the absolute world of him.   

Note:  If you're interested in the subject, I did a whole deep dive into the history of I LOVE LUCY on my podcast.  You can find that episode here. 



from By Ken Levine

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