My expectations were a bit low. By the time the original “Roseanne” series ended, I’d become saturated with the constant political messaging and overworked story lines. In all fairness, I’d felt the same about “All in the Family” (1971-1979, followed by four more seasons of “Archie Bunker’s Place”), when it began to run out of jab and steam and its characters began spinning off. There is just so much punch, punch, punch cynicism one can take; eventually one must leave the ring for a while.
Prior to watching the opening show, I read the New York Times and The Washington Post reviews of the reboot, and came away from the column with some hope that the show should be given a chance.
In his March 26 television column in the New York Times, James Poniewozik reviewed the revival of Roseanne.
“The Conners aren’t just preserved,” wrote Poniewozik. “They’re stuck. And they’re stuck in a way that underlines the show’s original mission of representing the kind of paycheck-to-paycheck life that other, more upscale sitcoms of the era left behind.” “Close your eyes, and you could be listening to vintage “Roseanne.” Poniewozik continued, “This is good and bad. The series’s voice is intact, but the zinger-based dialogue and rhythms can feel dated.”
“But the beauty of the show’s language is how many feelings those zingers can communicate. The Conners use insults to express love and test old wounds. A conversation can shade from friendly chain-pulling to actual fighting and then back again.”
Hank Stuever’s, TV critic for The Washington Post, Sunday column was headlined, “Rebooted Roseanne is a proud ‘deplorable.’ Can she be the Trump era’s Archie Bunker?”
Stuever continued, “And so, sporting a fresh layer of relevance, ABC’s groundbreaking sitcom ‘Roseanne’ makes an engaging return to life next week with its superb original cast (Roseanne Barr, John Goodman, Laurie Metcalf, Sara Gilbert, Lecy Goranson and Michael Fishman) happily intact. They’re older and unhappier and, to a character, well acquainted with the demise of the American Dream.”
It is important for me to add this disclaimer: I use a CPAP machine, and several of the prescriptions Roseanne and Dan mention during the premiere reside in my medicine cabinet as well. The aches and pains of age, and the other health concerns about which the couple jokes are very real in my household. I see those concerns every day in the faces of the elderly, poor, and struggling families at our neighborhood grocery store and at the pharmacy counter when the price of their pills on the register screen stuns me. I am, thankfully, well-insured, but so many people are not, and that's a good part of the reason why this new version of “Roseanne” failed to make me laugh too often, though many of those references did make me groan in sympathy if not empathy.
In contrast, when I was thirty years younger (or forty-plus years younger during ‘All in the Family’s’ run), it was easier to laugh because I was not nearly as vulnerable, and because I was not looking in detail at the realities of poverty, aging, families-in-trouble, and healthcare. My laughter at those shows then came from my ignorance of what was going on all around me—even though I thought that with my good liberal arts education, upward-trending employment, intact family, solid bank account, and sound health, I was socially, racially, sexually, and politically astute.
Those “valuable attributes” were pure artifice when it came to seeing—not just looking at—the real world. Sad to say, those same things made it easier for me to laugh at other people’s troubles—television characters mimicking the world of the writers, producers, directors, and networks—while distracting me from the slowly rising tide of real-world issues that would eventually flood 21st century America with divisiveness, distrust, discord, and danger.
All of which is to say that the new “Roseanne” made me uncomfortable by turning the volume up on 30-year-old replays of political differences, gay rights, economic disparity, health concerns of the aging and poor, unemployment, and racial stereotyping. Yes, there was a positive nod to deployed-military service, and a good discussion of school bullying related to cross-dressing, but to me, these were thrown in as momentary station stops, not as long-term meaningful points of departure for the larger story line.
Peter Dunne Finley, a newspaperman of the late 19th and early 20th century, writing in 1902 under the pseudonym of the popular “Mr. Dooley,” said, “The purpose of a newspaper is to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.” Dooley’s comment was meant sarcastically—a swipe at the journals of the time that dug into the personal lives of the rich and famous, while concurrently taking advantage of the travails of the poor to editorial advantage.
“But the beauty of the show’s language is how many feelings those zingers can communicate. The Conners use insults to express love and test old wounds. A conversation can shade from friendly chain-pulling to actual fighting and then back again.”
Hank Stuever’s, TV critic for The Washington Post, Sunday column was headlined, “Rebooted Roseanne is a proud ‘deplorable.’ Can she be the Trump era’s Archie Bunker?”
In his column, Stuever wrote, ’Roseanne’ is back, in part, because everything else is back, because the 21st century turned out to be so thoroughly unappealing that our entertainment culture regresses into old shows instead of finding new ones to love nearly as much. After ‘Roseanne’s’ era, broadcast network comedies got faster and smarter but somehow shallower, mastering the art of snark while losing an ability to resonate with a broad audience.”
Stuever continued, “And so, sporting a fresh layer of relevance, ABC’s groundbreaking sitcom ‘Roseanne’ makes an engaging return to life next week with its superb original cast (Roseanne Barr, John Goodman, Laurie Metcalf, Sara Gilbert, Lecy Goranson and Michael Fishman) happily intact. They’re older and unhappier and, to a character, well acquainted with the demise of the American Dream.”
It is important for me to add this disclaimer: I use a CPAP machine, and several of the prescriptions Roseanne and Dan mention during the premiere reside in my medicine cabinet as well. The aches and pains of age, and the other health concerns about which the couple jokes are very real in my household. I see those concerns every day in the faces of the elderly, poor, and struggling families at our neighborhood grocery store and at the pharmacy counter when the price of their pills on the register screen stuns me. I am, thankfully, well-insured, but so many people are not, and that's a good part of the reason why this new version of “Roseanne” failed to make me laugh too often, though many of those references did make me groan in sympathy if not empathy.
In contrast, when I was thirty years younger (or forty-plus years younger during ‘All in the Family’s’ run), it was easier to laugh because I was not nearly as vulnerable, and because I was not looking in detail at the realities of poverty, aging, families-in-trouble, and healthcare. My laughter at those shows then came from my ignorance of what was going on all around me—even though I thought that with my good liberal arts education, upward-trending employment, intact family, solid bank account, and sound health, I was socially, racially, sexually, and politically astute.
Those “valuable attributes” were pure artifice when it came to seeing—not just looking at—the real world. Sad to say, those same things made it easier for me to laugh at other people’s troubles—television characters mimicking the world of the writers, producers, directors, and networks—while distracting me from the slowly rising tide of real-world issues that would eventually flood 21st century America with divisiveness, distrust, discord, and danger.
All of which is to say that the new “Roseanne” made me uncomfortable by turning the volume up on 30-year-old replays of political differences, gay rights, economic disparity, health concerns of the aging and poor, unemployment, and racial stereotyping. Yes, there was a positive nod to deployed-military service, and a good discussion of school bullying related to cross-dressing, but to me, these were thrown in as momentary station stops, not as long-term meaningful points of departure for the larger story line.
Peter Dunne Finley, a newspaperman of the late 19th and early 20th century, writing in 1902 under the pseudonym of the popular “Mr. Dooley,” said, “The purpose of a newspaper is to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.” Dooley’s comment was meant sarcastically—a swipe at the journals of the time that dug into the personal lives of the rich and famous, while concurrently taking advantage of the travails of the poor to editorial advantage.
I could be charitable and suggest that “Roseanne’s” network, ABC (owned by Disney), by rebooting the series, is trying to right the ship of Dooley’s sarcasm as it applies to television shows about the nation’s middle- and lower-classes. If the genuine intent of the show is to afflict the comfortable and send a message of support to those who feel left behind or who are struggling just to run in place, then I’m good with that.
I’m betting that many people who watched last night did get the points, and did respond with the right kind of laughter…laughter aimed at the bumblers and criminals who infest our government and corporations. If they will turn that laughter into action, so much the better. Toward that end, I suggest to Roseanne's producers and writers that they develop scripts that encourage personal and community action.
Did the show afflict my sensibilities, as reasonably comfortable as I am at this stage of my life? Not really. It brought up the same issues that surrounded me and my generation thirty years ago. But I’ve learned a lot since then, become more aware since then, become a vocal advocate for many of those causes since then. My goal as a social-media journalist really is to afflict the care-less-comfortable, the hateful-stupid, and the downright-dangerous forces that are eating away at the foundation of our society.
So one-liner digs at Trump and Clinton, the Rs and the Ds, the liberals and conservatives, big pharma, bullies, gay-bashers, self-righteous-but-clueless do-gooders, and overly-protective parents/grandparents just fluttered off the screen and came to rest on our television room floor. It’s not that I don’t care about those issues, quite the contrary: It’s that I care—have been caring—passionately about those issues, and “Roseanne” missed the boat I and many of my generation sailed on years ago.
Stuever closes his Post column with this observation, “’Roseanne’ needs to do more than acknowledge that a Trump-voting grandmother can get along with her liberal-leaning sister and adore her sparkle-riffic grandson. It should courageously allow the Conner family to more tumultuously grapple with the idea that America is coming apart and changing profoundly.”
I’m betting that many people who watched last night did get the points, and did respond with the right kind of laughter…laughter aimed at the bumblers and criminals who infest our government and corporations. If they will turn that laughter into action, so much the better. Toward that end, I suggest to Roseanne's producers and writers that they develop scripts that encourage personal and community action.
Did the show afflict my sensibilities, as reasonably comfortable as I am at this stage of my life? Not really. It brought up the same issues that surrounded me and my generation thirty years ago. But I’ve learned a lot since then, become more aware since then, become a vocal advocate for many of those causes since then. My goal as a social-media journalist really is to afflict the care-less-comfortable, the hateful-stupid, and the downright-dangerous forces that are eating away at the foundation of our society.
So one-liner digs at Trump and Clinton, the Rs and the Ds, the liberals and conservatives, big pharma, bullies, gay-bashers, self-righteous-but-clueless do-gooders, and overly-protective parents/grandparents just fluttered off the screen and came to rest on our television room floor. It’s not that I don’t care about those issues, quite the contrary: It’s that I care—have been caring—passionately about those issues, and “Roseanne” missed the boat I and many of my generation sailed on years ago.
Stuever closes his Post column with this observation, “’Roseanne’ needs to do more than acknowledge that a Trump-voting grandmother can get along with her liberal-leaning sister and adore her sparkle-riffic grandson. It should courageously allow the Conner family to more tumultuously grapple with the idea that America is coming apart and changing profoundly.”
I couldn’t agree more.
The Time’s Poniewozik ends his review with, “’Roseanne’ is a revival that’s willing to grapple with the time that’s passed rather than deny it. It’s feisty and funny and a little sad. And like that old couch you can’t throw out, it may just have a good year or two left in it.”
The Time’s Poniewozik ends his review with, “’Roseanne’ is a revival that’s willing to grapple with the time that’s passed rather than deny it. It’s feisty and funny and a little sad. And like that old couch you can’t throw out, it may just have a good year or two left in it.”
I agree with the “little sad” but it’s going to need a lot more "feisty and funny" to keep me from throwing the couch out.
My own opinion of “Roseanne” rests somewhere in between Stuever’s and Poniewozik’s conclusions. It is watchable, with moments of good acting (and moments when the actors seem to be looking at cue cards), with characters familiar enough to make you feel glad they’re back, and with themes that are important, if, in some cases, overly flogged on cable news long before they were written into the “Roseanne” script.
My own opinion of “Roseanne” rests somewhere in between Stuever’s and Poniewozik’s conclusions. It is watchable, with moments of good acting (and moments when the actors seem to be looking at cue cards), with characters familiar enough to make you feel glad they’re back, and with themes that are important, if, in some cases, overly flogged on cable news long before they were written into the “Roseanne” script.
The opening voiceover claims the show is filmed before a live audience, but, if so, it was a muted group, not so much unresponsive as underwhelmed as evidenced by its thin laughs and occasional collective intakes of breath. I get that. Seemed the same from my seat.
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