Bette!
(2000 - 2001)
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Here for Bette! Episode Guide
Ken
Tucker, Entertainment Weekly
As
I write this review of Bette Midler's new sitcom Bette, I'm listening
to Midler's new CD, entitled ''Bette.'' (''Synergy!'' she declared
in the New York Times.) Since, after watching two episodes of
her TV show, I am groping for compliments to pay this immensely
likable performer, I can say with great enthusiasm that Midler
sings a lovely, moving version of Baby Washington's 1963 R&B
smash ''That's How Heartaches Are Made'' -- it deserves to be
a hit.
As
for ''Bette'' the sitcom -- well, this is how heartaches are made;
it probably doesn't deserve to be a hit. I say that out of respect
for Midler: This show is simply beneath her, even though it looks
as if she's the one calling the shots, both on- and off camera.
The series is conceived as a brazen tour de force star vehicle
that owes a lot to ''I Love Lucy'' and very little to what TV
has evolved into over the past 40 years.
Midler
plays a version of herself: a Hollywood star complete with husband
(Kevin Dunn), daughter Rose (Lindsay Lohan in the pilot, but,
in a cast change, now Marina Malota), a best friend who also serves
as her manager (Joanna Gleason), and a pal who's also her musical
accompanist, played by James Dreyfus (''Notting Hill'').
The
TV Bette is an insecure celebrity, anxious to make jokes about
her dud movies before anyone else does. (The first two episodes
both contain jabs at her 1991 bomb ''For the Boys,'' and the second
show's rather masochistic plot is about how Midler's recent films
all seem to go straight to airlines as in flight entertainment
a few days after they're released in theaters.)
Over
the years, Midler has achieved her best work by being consummately
confident. Think of the uproarious stage shows she has mounted;
her brave, headlong dive into the Janis Joplin myth in 1979's
''The Rose''; or the bubbly, sexy joy she brought to her pampered
wife role in 1986's ''Down and Out in Beverly Hills.'' Midler
seems to be taking middle age particularly hard, complaining in
interviews about how few good roles feature films have offered
her recently -- it seems to have left her weary and at a loss
as to how best to use her great gifts.
But her pride won't allow her to slide into a retrograde sitcom
like ''Bette'' without a fight -- a misbegotten
one, as it turns out. Above all, Midler needed to surround herself
with sharply etched supporting characters she could react to;
instead, she told the Times, ''Everyone wants me to have a Kramer....
I say, I am Kramer. I want to have only straight-people around
me.''
Big
mistake. Kevin Dunn is a talented actor -- a Chicago theater vet
with solid credits in films like ''Nixon'' and ''Mississippi Burning''
-- but you'd never know it from the vaguely drawn shlub he plays
here. (Why didn't Midler model her TV husband on her fascinating
real life mate, Martin von Haselberg, a financier who was also
half of the daring performance art duo the Kipper Kids? Now, there's
a wacky Desi for Bette's Lucille Ball for the millennium.) Similarly,
the rock solid, consistently terrific Gleason, as Bette's gal
pal, is wasted in a role that requires lots of quizzical looks
and shrugged shoulders as Midler dashes around acting frantic.
By
the second episode, Midler is already digging into her vaults
to show us grainy footage of her career making performances at
the New York gay men's hangout, the Continental Baths, and the
disparity between the raucous performer glimpsed so briefly there
makes the toilet flushing jokes that suck the new Bette down into
mediocrity seem all the more ironic and sad. I have a feeling
that along about week 6 of this sitcom, even Midler's most stalwart
fans are going to be singing a tune she includes on her new CD:
''God Give Me Strength.'' EW Grade: C
Terry
Kelleher, People Magazine
Maybe
Bette Midler learned something from her unconvincing portrayal
of trash novelist Jacqueline Susann in the flop movie Isn't She
Great: If she's going to play a celebrity, it might as well be
herself.For her first TV series, Midler has chosen the role of
a happily married singer-actress called Bette who has a teenage
daughter and a resume that includes The Rose, "Wind Beneath
My Wings" and the unfortunate Drowning Mona. Nobody actually
says "Midler," but that omission seems to be a joke
in its own right. Self-mockery is clearly the name of her game.
In the Oct. 11 premiere Bette still bemoans her Oscar loss to
Sally Field 20 years ago and says resorting to regular work on
the small screen would be grounds for suicide. The second episode
starts with the star hamming in a guest appearance on JAG and
develops into a hilarious satire on meaningless show-business
awards and Bette's less-than-flourishing film career.There's nothing
subtle about the physical comedy in the pilot, as Bette visits
a cosmetic surgeon and takes a stab at strenuous exercise. But
"broad" is a term Midler has always been comfortable
with. She receives able support from Kevin Dunn as Bette's levelheaded
husband, Roy; Joanna Gleason as Connie, her dryly humorous manager;
and James Dreyfus as Oscar, the diva's twittery accompanist. If
the first two episodes are any indication, songs by Midler will
be integrated smoothly and amusingly into the sitcom format. Bottom
Line: Good bet