We’re back to abnormal with return of soapies

Press, 19 February 1986, Page 17

We’re back to abnormal with return of soapies

[Review]

Ian Hutchison

After the truly shocking, devastating death of Bobby and a break of two or three months, things are more or less back to abnormal in “Dallas.”

For a short while his demise invoked a state of near normality. The Ewings gathered to grieve and blubber at his graveside as though they were a close, caring and loving family. Like any other family (outside the world of television, that is) they behaved as though their hearts had been grasped and squeezed by the cruel, tight, clawing hand of fate itself.

Even J.R. was in mourning. Kneeling by the graveside of his beloved brother, the goldtipped toes of his snakeskin boots dug deep into the dirt of the Ewing range (the place where Bobby was to be symbolically embraced by his everloving family forever) he actually showed deep remorse and sorrow.

You could tell he was deep in mourning and that it was from the heart. He was wearing his best boots, a dark, sombre, three-piece, pin-striped suit and, carelessly, unselfishly running the risk of sunstroke and the possibility of,death himself, was out without one of his 10 gallon hats on — a poignant mark of respect for Bobby to whom he was so close.

And if one was contaminated with just a touch of cynicism (and experience of J.R.’s past two-faced exploits) and was not quite ready to believe his distress and agony-ridden face, then there were his words to swallow and, with a bit of Texas faith.

digest: “Arm gom ter murs yer, Bobby (sob, heave, shake). I lurved yer, I realler durd.” Who could not believe such words. J.R. was Mr Sincerity himself. Primed only seconds before by Pamela’s outstandingly good, tear-jerk-ing Imitation of Edvard Munch’s “The Scream” (except that she was lying on a bed of thorns and not standing on a bridge of pain), J.R.’s words of love and tenderness set me off into a world of underwater vision. I found it hard to hold back the tears. Indeed, I found it impossible. I was not the only one. My wife,, having run out of tissues and handkerchiefs, was blowing her nose on the tablecloth. The cat and even the goldfish were weeping. And just down the road I could hear the solitary wailing of a dog. Obviously on the same channel and obviously a creature of discriminating taste, it was baying at the moon. It was howling “BOBBEEEeee . . .” Ah, the pathos of it all. Trying very hard to be as good as "Dallas,” “Dy-

nasty” returned with a new series only to prove that it is pretty punk stuff. For weeks our eyes and ears have been assailed and assaulted by messages telling us about the impending re-arrival of the Carringtons.

Unfortunately for discriminating soap opera fans everywhere (including canines of taste), they did. The only reason for watching such pap was to see just how many Carringtons survived the massacre in Moldavia, and whether this might not actually improve the quality and likeability of the show.

Not nearly enough were wiped out, though, which is a pity, for all that it

really seems to lack is good, engaging actors. 1 The only actor (actress) worth watching in the whole series is Joan Collins, and she was conspicuously absent from the first episode, which fair made one’s heart miss a beat. Apparently, however, she boycotted the first few days of filming, hanging out for more jewellery and men it seems.

Consequently, we had to put up with the likes of John Forsythe acting like an impotent cadaver (not that there are many potent ones around) and Linda Evans amateurishly delivering lines with a mouth that looked for all,, the world as though a brick had just been whipped out of it. She looks more and more like a wide-mouthed frog every week. Certainly, in “Dallas” the people look strange, but at least they can act, at least they are convincing, at least they are engaging. Indeed, the only thing to pick between the two is the acting, but it is an element of such vital importance, for good acting establishes characters with whom we can identify and relate, something central to the success of any show. What a pity the massacre in Moldavia was not more successful. “Dynasty” could only have benefited by it.