The Brady Bunch Movie Director: Betty Thomas

Rip It Up, Issue 215, 1 July 1995, Page 41

The Brady Bunch Movie Director: Betty Thomas

After the almost unmitigated disaster of bringing The Beverly Hillbillies to the big screen, classic TV sitcoms might well seem temptation for only the most foolhardy of producers. Surprisingly, The Brady Bunch Movie is a winner, its slick time-warp ploy pitting a terminally turn-of-the-60s family against the crims and dims of the nasty materialist 90s. In Bradyville — ie. Los Angeles suburbia, 1995 — everything’s bright, bright, bright, and everyone’s happy, happy, happy. Well, almost everyone, as middle sister Jan (a scrumptiously manic performance from Jennifer Elise Cox) is consumed with sibling rivalry, prompted by ever-present, unseen voices. Not having been a Brady Bunch aficionado all those decades back, I’m not tuned in to the network of references that are embedded in the script — apart from the obvious walk-ons (or drive-on in the case of Ann B Davis as a butch truckie) from original cast members. Florence Henderson, the original Carol Brady, reappearing as Grandma Brady, has been hardened by the 80s and 90s into a vintage grump. The movie works without too much contextualising. In spite of the all encompassing technicolour brightness, The Brady Bunch Movie is a darkish comedy about an ultra-functional family. The deliciously wide-eyed Shelley Long is

perpetually positive, expounding a life philosophy in which “snitching” and “tattling” are the ultimate no-no, while hubby (the luxuriantly coiffed Gary Cole) cheerfully peddles the one ranch-home design to whatever client comes along. The youngsters, alas, with the exception of Jennifer Elise Cox and Christine Taylor as the sexpot eldest sister, are rather under-written. So much so that the androgynous Ru Paul, as a guidance counsellor, and Jean Smart’s libidinous neighbour, trying to coax the two Brady lads to help her “make sandwiches”, seem to be acting in another movie. Above all, The Brady Bunch Movie boasts some delightful set pieces, from the family showing flair and flares in the talent quest to the closing credits in which a Hollywood Squares grid of the Brady family (together with the eldest daughter’s lesbian admirer) offers a piquant deconstruction of an Amerikan family.

WILLIAM DART