I don't think we realized the ulterior motives of the producers of Love Boat when it was happening. Every week, the same crew of Issac, Captain Stubing, Gopher, Doc and Julie welcomed fresh passengers aboard the Love Boat, exciting and new. For nine years, every Saturday night we watched in anticipation to see who was going to walk up that ramp onto the Promenade Deck. Would it be Charo, Sid Caesar, Hans Conreid (you are probably more familiar with his cartoon voice overs than his face), Engelbert Humperdink, Jack Jones (who also sang the theme song), Carol Lynley, Hayley Mills, Minnie Pearl, Charlene Tilton, and the proverbial kiss of death...Alan Thicke? We loved watching the antics, perils and love affairs aboard the ship. And the love affairs, oh the love affairs. I'm pretty sure that Charo was on multiple episodes with the hunk du jour at the time. That Charo could give some good coochy coochy which explained her numerous appearances, right?
I believe that there was something more sinister lurking behind the scenes. I suspect that someone was greasing the casting director's palms. Some of the has-beens that made it on the boat should have been left on shore. They weren't "all that" even in their prime and way too old to be flirting with Captain Stubing. There was an "ick" factor present that I don't think we considered back then. Could an appearance on the Love Boat be part of the SAG contract? Actors are part of a union and I would not be surprised to find out they were guaranteed a spot. And if you could provide pictures of the casting director with a goat, you got double or triple booked. (hence Charo's repeated visits, I'm guessing) It just seems logical considering the amount of terrible over-acting that took place week after week. Or perhaps, over a lifetime of mediocre work or one hit wonders, an actor earned credits similar to the comps one accumulates at a gambling casino and they could cash them in as a last ditch effort to revitalize their career. Or at least earn enough money to apply to the SAG old folks home.
But let's not limit our exploration to just the Love Boat. There have been other television vehicles that have participated in the entertainment industry's dirty little secret. Fantasy Island, which came on right after Love Boat had a similar modus operandi along with Love American Style. The formula was really quite brilliant and self serving. Design a program that contained a structure that was thematic (love offered unlimited potential) with a permanent host/cast supplemented by guests that varied on each episode. Depending on what actor was available--let's say, Robert Goulet-- the scriptwriters could create a character just for him that capitalized on his talent and body of work-- a sunglasses wearing, turtleneck sporting, matinee idol/Vegas- style crooner that Will Ferrill parodied so well on SNL years later. It was reverse casting. Instead of writing a script and searching for a suitable actor, the star was found first (probably lurking just outside, smoking a cigarette in the studio parking lot) and then the script was written. It cut out nasty contract negotiations and endless audition lines.
Game Shows were not exempt. Hollywood Squares, Match Game, What's My Line and Password all had celebrity players, but the casting became more challenging. These celebrities were not hiding behind a role, they were themselves and had to actually demonstrate some smarts and gamesmanship. With the upgraded selection process, the candidate pool was limited, but those that made the cut were potentially able to revive their careers with this thirty minute exposure on national television, basically a free audition. But some were able to make a career out of it --Paul Lynde (center square), Brett Sommers (raspy voiced actress married to Jack Klugman), Richard Dawson (Match Game to hosting Family Feud) and Charley Weaver (what he did prior to Hollywood Squares is unclear). As an aside, each show was peppered with some "dumb" bombshell that titillated us with this stereotype or defied it by actually being intelligent. Either way, it was entertaining.
Let's fast forward 30 years..........can you think of any current programming that uses this same formula? Yep, you got it....Dancing with the Stars, Celebrity Apprentice and Celebrity Fit Club. The death of the celebrity game show is resurrected through the transfusion of the new blood of reality television.
Think about it. You bring together celebrities in a prime time venue and see if they can dance it out over a 6 weeks. How do they select the cast? First, they eliminate entertainers that are currently working on projects because, well, they have a job. You're not going to see Jon Hamm (although I'd like to), Jennifer Aniston or Denzel in the line up for the new season. So let's dip into the pool of has-beens that are growing in numbers every day. Then let's narrow that search down to people that are still ambulatory and won't stroke out during the season. (However, a little fainting spell is ok and quite the ratings booster, Marie.) We end of with the likes of David Hasselhoff, Drew Lachey, Brooke Burke, both the Osmonds, Cloris Leachman and Jennifer Grey. And along with that comes coveted prime time coverage on The View, late night talk shows, National Enquirer stories and the Holy Grail.....Entertainment Tonight. It can be quite a coup if you can make it past the second week of competition and really exploit all that publicity. Who can blame these actors for risking injury and embarrassment to get their shot in the limelight? Either that, or find some product they can endorse such as a weight loss program, miracle face creams, perfumes or penis enhancement system (not happened yet, but look for it)
I'm all about second chances. Look at Betty White, the last surviving Golden Girl. She's never been so hot. But she didn't have to resort to Dancing with the Stars in order to become a household name again. She is out there because of her talent and splendid body of work and probably an energy drink laden manager. Maybe I'm just a cynical purist, but I refuse to be caught up in a phenomenon that promotes Crystal Palin, Pamela Anderson and "The Situation". But more than feeling manipulated by a show that may be nothing more than a promotional propaganda machine, I do understand the intrinsic appeal of "The Underdog" and "Comeback" stories. We want to think that we could have our own chance at a re-do. Can the vicariousness watching of these shows spring us into action? Or do we really want something more tangible and real world?
What if there was a grass roots movement-- a collective of Joe Schmos and Gal Fridays (the viewers of these shows)-- and they created their own reality show, a REAL reality show, where the common person could take their stash of past business successes (sales awards, company logo shirts, recommendation letters); or personal successes (mastering Mandarin Chinese, happy and gainfully employed children, extensive portfolio of tried and true recipes) or the accumulation of everyday living (mounting pile of walmart bags, 30 years of tax returns and National Geographic collections) and cash them in for valuable prizes such as a mortgage pay off, a midlife dream career or maybe even a cruise......if that floats your boat. The People's Love Boat. Now THAT would be exciting and new.
But we would probably have to unionize and a unionized society.......yeah, that smells like communism. Never mind. That self feeding Hollywood paradigm would not work in the real world. Art may imitate life, but it fails in the reverse. I don't think Jimmy Fallon is going to want me on his late night talk show extolling my starring role in my own mid life crisis and promoting the latest iteration of my resume-- "coming to an employment office near you"-- in an attempt to revitalize my career. It's OK, Jimmy. No hard feelings. I, too, would rather talk to Justin Timberlake and Tina Fey, even if they were just recounting how they organized their closets while on hiatus last year.
My drama is played out on a much smaller stage. In my personal show, I am captain in my own version of The Love Boat; steering in uncharted waters toward an unknown destiny wondering how to decipher the complex instrumentation. There is no manual and I am clamoring to figure it out as I go. The ship has set sail, there is no pause button and I am forced to draw on past experiences, good and bad, to point me away from Gilligan's Island (sorry, but I don't want to be marooned on a deserted island, wearing coconuts for a top and putting on skits for an audience of 6) and toward Reinvention Island (I made it up--poetic license). I am not alone. I have my regular cast of characters--family, friends and acquaintences--all poised to help me in the journey. But I sure could use a second mate; someone that may not have the manual either, but would collaberate on all of the various decisions that have to be made in order to reach our destination. I'm sure you know what I'm alluding to because it is so obvious.
I need Gavin MacLeod.Can someone get him on the phone? Is he still alive and available? He would be perfect for the part. He probably still has his costume. Wait, isn't that him strolling through the studio parking lot, talking on his iPhone? Hey, Gavin, come see me, we need to talk.
See how that works?
