Character Studies 1: On the Outside

When the series was made, television was not an artform, and this is no exception. It may have begun in glitz and superficiality (“let’s make em hot!” shouts Aaron Spelling from across a quartz-top desk) and it can be sloppy and careless, pointless and frustrating, and yes, bad decisions are made throughout (the Turkey?), shortcuts taken, and okay there are mistakes, ad libs, repeated and pasted scenes, bad casting, lazy writing, and by the forth season the engine sputters badly. But that’s the magic of it. It’s not overwritten or over-produced. There are unexplored allusions and innuendos, holes and spaces. It’s these spaces, these holes, that become a mine of riches, allowing us to enter into imagination and extrapolation.  Compared to the tightly scripted, music-laden, tougher and generally much better television today, Starsky and Hutch can be a bit of a bewildering mix of the astonishing, spontaneous, haphazard and leaden. The actors are fearless and instinctive rather than calculated or self-important. It probably never occurs to either of them they were doing anything unusual. Yet they take control of their characters from the first scene and never let go. Dialogue is improvised or altered, including uncredited changes to pivotal moments, like “The Fix” and in “Gillian”, when the confrontation following her murder (arguably the best single moment in the entire series) was extemporaneous. The tags are almost always ad-libbed on the spot. All this invention, this what-the-hell approach, gives the energy between the two lead actors a crackling electricity that is almost never seen any more. And add to this the thousands of subtleties –  looks, touches, grins and personal in-jokes (the “Paul Muni type”, for example) – they work into the scenes. Who today would be allowed to alter a script? Union crack-down, anyone? Despite famous stand-offs and threats and contract problems – and flaring egos, particularly Glaser – they still care enough to imbue their characters with subtlety and consistency. There hasn’t anything remotely like it before, or since. Making what many at the time considered trash, what I suspect the producers, actors and directors might have considered – in their darkest moments – as trash, they were making something unique, complex, and surprising. 

The stuff on TV in the seventies was, in many ways, like the parentless, reckless landscape of childhood at the time.  We were running free, without constraints. Nobody much cared what we were doing as long as we were home by dark, much like nobody much cared whether Starsky and Hutch were partners for seven years previously, or five or four, or whether there was actually a tape recorder in the room when Simon Marcus made his statements, or whether the actors stumbled or made up lines or walked into the wrong shot. TV was loose, glittery, productions waved into being by a bunch of amoral executives in air-conditioned offices. In the seventies, we did what we wanted. A hand-turned crank of an antenna brought in the signal from another city, bedroom door closed against another smoke-filled dinner party. Neighbors molested children, a hookah sat in the living room, we cut the gum out of our own hair. There was nobody to care for us. Which was what Glaser and Soul did, as best as they could, imbuing their characters with layers of detail, hoping to buy time, doing the best they could while deafened and distracted by the screams of teenagers. Everything rushed and disorganized, existing only as a tally at the end of the month, high ratings and diamond bracelets for the wives, middling grades for wild children, white socks and Easter baskets, parents and television executives completely ignorant of the craziness raging below the surface.

Advertisements

5 Responses to “Character Studies 1: On the Outside”

  1. phaedrablue4 Says:

    I think we must have been neighbors!

    • King David Says:

      We took our television seriously back then. The ‘Fonz’ was more influential than the US President, the bad guys were black-and-white and we knew they were bad guys, and the good guys gave us hope that there were good guys out there who would save us. The tag in S&H, and others, always plastered over the cracks of whatever nasty sore was opened in the main block, we breathed a sigh of relief, and put our faith in people like S&H to always behave in a way that made us feel good about feeling good about them.

      I can see, in their twilight years (many years from ‘now’) S&H playing lawn bowls and Hutch bossing Starsky about how to throw.

  2. Joan Says:

    In every post, you manage to blow us away, not only with new insights and details about this one-of-a-kind show, but with letting us ponder all over again, with a continually renewed sense of their importance and human character, the old truths about this show that everyone knows so well.

    Sometimes I wonder if you would ever, sometime in the future, wish to try to write a long essay condensing pieces of this blog into one definitive authorized work. I was recently very taken with one such deeply personal yet analytical essay on another old show, the Andy Griffith Show, which is of course very different from Starsky & Hutch, but has a similar indescribably powerful effect on the memory of people who grew up watching it, and it reminded me of the incredible mix of personal love and perceptive appreciation in The Ollie Report: http://lareviewofbooks.org/essay/our-town-andy-griffith-and-the-humor-of-mourning

    • merltheearl Says:

      Joan, thank you so very much, I’m humbled by this comment. I read the essay and was very moved by it – it was so lyrical and evocative, and I love that he drew so many classical and contemporary parallels to his examination of this gentle series. The overall theme of mourning I found especially wonderful, an unexpected deep reading of material I thought I already knew so well. What really struck me is Andy Griffith’s polite rejection of myth status, and his good-natured but obvious discomfort with some of the convictions of the show’s fans. I think sometimes that one of my secret motivations with this blog is to write something that would not cause either Mr. Glaser or Mr. Soul – or anyone connected with the series – to cringe.

      As for your suggestion of condensing all this into a single essay, well, it’s a tall order but something I might consider down the line. It would be a good way to broadcast these ideas more widely. Again thank you for taking the time to write, and direct me to the wonderful essay.

      • Joan Says:

        You are so welcome! I had a feeling you would like it if you were familiar with the show.

        Deep readings of straightforward and simple-seeming material is a great love of mine, and attracted me to your site. After reading your blog I personally think you would be capable of writing an essay on Starsky & Hutch worthy of submitting and publishing professionally as a freelance op-ed, although I highly doubt there’s a market for such a thing right now. And after all, things that attract mainstream attention and are good at the same time are rare and often overrated, and even when they are not overrated they often attract attention for stupid distorting reasons, which is why I’ve grown to love the democracy of the internet so much over the years. There’s a great freedom and clarity to writing for yourself and flinging your ideas into cyberspace as an afterthought for anyone else who may enjoy it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: