Believe it or Not...
...The premise holds up, I never dreamed that it ever wou-hou-hould...
(That's probably the 94-thousandth rewriting of the words from the theme song from The Greatest American Hero. I'm going to go ahead and claim that it is the most clever of them all, too. What the heck, I'm feeling frisky today. It'll be my version of an unverifiable "world's greatest cup of coffee" claim.)
The Greatest American Hero came out when I was at the very impressionable age of 11 and I loved it. I didn't love it for the superhero fantasy. I didn't love it because it occasionally featured the hunky, brooding Michael Pare. I didn't love it because it featured a successful female lawyer, although that was sadly rare in those days.
I loved it because it was funny.
I may not have known why it was funny, but I laughed a lot whenever I watched. And that's the overall memory I had of it until I had the opportunity to re-watch the first season a few weeks ago.
I was apprehensive because I was afraid that it would be god-awful and it'd ruin my nice memories of the series. Thankfully, though, it retained its charm and I learned a bit more about the people who originally made the series what it was. If you liked the show back then I heartily recommend buying or renting the DVDs and re-watching the first season.
Of course the special effects are hilarious, but now that I know a tiny little more about how difficult it is to create them, I think they did a really good job with their limited budget. My absolute favourite part in the re-watching, though, is when William Katt's three-times-as-large stunt guy jumps in the scene in the tights and a Harpo wig to stop a speeding bus or whatever. It cracks me up every time.
The biggest change I can see while watching it in my thirties versus back then is that when I was an optimistic kid I was very much on Ralph-the-idealistic-teacher's side. I remember thinking that Bill was a jerk. Now I'm much more on Bill-the-Fed's side. Not in terms of his politics, of course, but in his practicality and the get-the-job-done attitude. I never noticed how much Ralph whined and vacillated about the whole thing. I'm very much on Bill's side with the, "What the hell are you afraid of, you've got the magic suit! Just do it!"
A lot of the comedy that I probably laughed at as a kid is no longer funny to me, such as the absurdity of a grown man in a supersuit being plopped into a "normal" setting such as a restaurant. At the time punk was still very much outside of the mainstream, so anything out of the ordinary really got a person noticed, and not in a good way.
Times have changed. So much, in fact, that the other day I was walking to lunch and I saw a grown man with his entire head, face, neck and hair painted in a deep, vibrant shade of purple. He was in regular street clothes, but every bit of visible skin and hair was purple. And aside from an almost overpowering urge to say, "why so plum, chum?" to him, we passed each other with nary an odd look between us. I assumed he was either a) a Superfan(TM) b) an actor of some stripe, or c) just wild about aubergine. Either way, no skin off my nose and more power to him.
Another thing I now notice about the series is that it was very progressive for its time. Not only did it feature a successful woman lawyer who wasn't simply a caricature, but she got a fair-sized chunk of the zingers, too. And in scanning the credits I realized that a lot of the first series episodes were in fact written by women.
As for the premise, I don't think this would ever have worked if they took a straight run at doing a superhero series (and in fact in later seasons when they did do more monsters and villains and stuff it was quickly ruined). But looking at the characters involved as though they are real people in a surreal situation makes it compelling, and doing it with humour makes it irresistble.
The show has the added charm of the main character being an idealistic, somewhat reluctant hero. It's very like Spiderman in that way. It's an opportunity to look at how a not-particularly-special person deals with suddenly being given responsibility for the welfare of perfect strangers, and doing so without being motivated solely by revenge (the underlying theme to a lot of superhero stories, it seems to me). Okay, well, Spiderman has a little of that at first, but get the feeling that he gets over that fairly quickly and understands the full weight of his responsibility. Plus, he's pretty funny, which I tend to find most important in a superhero.
I never had a crush on William Katt (sorry William, big blonde fros just weren't my thing), but I do find reluctance at being a big, brutal idiot very attractive in a hero. I loved Magnum P.I. and Jim Rockford for the exact same reasons. Half the time they had their asses handed to them before they finally won through. They'd generally end the show with a bleeding lip and holding an ice pack to their cute, manly faces. (Huh. I never realized it before, but it The Rockford Files and Magnum P.I. might just be the exact same show.)
Well, anyway, The Greatest American Hero was a lot of fun to watch again. As an adult there are a lot more jokes that you'll get now, just like when you started getting jokes on a whole new level when watching Bugs Bunny. You won't be disappointed. Besides, will you really be able to live with yourself without hearing Robert Culp calling Connie Sellecca "cyounce-ler" one last time?
Fun fact: Look for the episode or two in the middle of the season when his name is changed from Ralph Hinkley to Ralph Hanley. The presidential assassination attempt happened early in the year and my guess is that they went back and forth on changing his last name. But who cares? We didn't notice, we were too busy drinking Tab, daydreaming about Lady Di's gnarly wedding dress, and slowly killing radio stars with MTV to notice anyway...
(That's probably the 94-thousandth rewriting of the words from the theme song from The Greatest American Hero. I'm going to go ahead and claim that it is the most clever of them all, too. What the heck, I'm feeling frisky today. It'll be my version of an unverifiable "world's greatest cup of coffee" claim.)
The Greatest American Hero came out when I was at the very impressionable age of 11 and I loved it. I didn't love it for the superhero fantasy. I didn't love it because it occasionally featured the hunky, brooding Michael Pare. I didn't love it because it featured a successful female lawyer, although that was sadly rare in those days.
I loved it because it was funny.
I may not have known why it was funny, but I laughed a lot whenever I watched. And that's the overall memory I had of it until I had the opportunity to re-watch the first season a few weeks ago.
I was apprehensive because I was afraid that it would be god-awful and it'd ruin my nice memories of the series. Thankfully, though, it retained its charm and I learned a bit more about the people who originally made the series what it was. If you liked the show back then I heartily recommend buying or renting the DVDs and re-watching the first season.
Of course the special effects are hilarious, but now that I know a tiny little more about how difficult it is to create them, I think they did a really good job with their limited budget. My absolute favourite part in the re-watching, though, is when William Katt's three-times-as-large stunt guy jumps in the scene in the tights and a Harpo wig to stop a speeding bus or whatever. It cracks me up every time.
The biggest change I can see while watching it in my thirties versus back then is that when I was an optimistic kid I was very much on Ralph-the-idealistic-teacher's side. I remember thinking that Bill was a jerk. Now I'm much more on Bill-the-Fed's side. Not in terms of his politics, of course, but in his practicality and the get-the-job-done attitude. I never noticed how much Ralph whined and vacillated about the whole thing. I'm very much on Bill's side with the, "What the hell are you afraid of, you've got the magic suit! Just do it!"
A lot of the comedy that I probably laughed at as a kid is no longer funny to me, such as the absurdity of a grown man in a supersuit being plopped into a "normal" setting such as a restaurant. At the time punk was still very much outside of the mainstream, so anything out of the ordinary really got a person noticed, and not in a good way.
Times have changed. So much, in fact, that the other day I was walking to lunch and I saw a grown man with his entire head, face, neck and hair painted in a deep, vibrant shade of purple. He was in regular street clothes, but every bit of visible skin and hair was purple. And aside from an almost overpowering urge to say, "why so plum, chum?" to him, we passed each other with nary an odd look between us. I assumed he was either a) a Superfan(TM) b) an actor of some stripe, or c) just wild about aubergine. Either way, no skin off my nose and more power to him.
Another thing I now notice about the series is that it was very progressive for its time. Not only did it feature a successful woman lawyer who wasn't simply a caricature, but she got a fair-sized chunk of the zingers, too. And in scanning the credits I realized that a lot of the first series episodes were in fact written by women.
As for the premise, I don't think this would ever have worked if they took a straight run at doing a superhero series (and in fact in later seasons when they did do more monsters and villains and stuff it was quickly ruined). But looking at the characters involved as though they are real people in a surreal situation makes it compelling, and doing it with humour makes it irresistble.
The show has the added charm of the main character being an idealistic, somewhat reluctant hero. It's very like Spiderman in that way. It's an opportunity to look at how a not-particularly-special person deals with suddenly being given responsibility for the welfare of perfect strangers, and doing so without being motivated solely by revenge (the underlying theme to a lot of superhero stories, it seems to me). Okay, well, Spiderman has a little of that at first, but get the feeling that he gets over that fairly quickly and understands the full weight of his responsibility. Plus, he's pretty funny, which I tend to find most important in a superhero.
I never had a crush on William Katt (sorry William, big blonde fros just weren't my thing), but I do find reluctance at being a big, brutal idiot very attractive in a hero. I loved Magnum P.I. and Jim Rockford for the exact same reasons. Half the time they had their asses handed to them before they finally won through. They'd generally end the show with a bleeding lip and holding an ice pack to their cute, manly faces. (Huh. I never realized it before, but it The Rockford Files and Magnum P.I. might just be the exact same show.)
Well, anyway, The Greatest American Hero was a lot of fun to watch again. As an adult there are a lot more jokes that you'll get now, just like when you started getting jokes on a whole new level when watching Bugs Bunny. You won't be disappointed. Besides, will you really be able to live with yourself without hearing Robert Culp calling Connie Sellecca "cyounce-ler" one last time?
Fun fact: Look for the episode or two in the middle of the season when his name is changed from Ralph Hinkley to Ralph Hanley. The presidential assassination attempt happened early in the year and my guess is that they went back and forth on changing his last name. But who cares? We didn't notice, we were too busy drinking Tab, daydreaming about Lady Di's gnarly wedding dress, and slowly killing radio stars with MTV to notice anyway...
posted by Alanis at
7:54 PM
|
0 comments
