D
didymus
Guest
NY Times:
I’ve never seen a Roman Polansky movie and I quit watching Woody Allen’s stuff decades ago. But what about great stars and directors from the '40s and '50s who were never exposed in their lifetime but are coming out now?
Bill Cosby looked haggard and old as he stumbled on his way to the courthouse. And when his mug shot flashed across my screen, I felt a sharp stab of grief.
Not for Mr. Cosby, who was charged with sexual assault, and returns to court for a hearing this week. But for the genial father and devoted husband who once filled my television set, the funny man who felt like family. I’m talking about Cliff Huxtable, Mr. Cosby’s alter ego, the amiable obstetrician he played in “The Cosby Show,” the pioneering television hit of the 1980s and early ’90s.
Today, the black doctor once known as America’s Dad has almost completely vanished from the airwaves. You may wonder why that matters, why a sensible, professional in her 40s might weep for an imaginary character, who some people view as the sullied creation of a now infamous celebrity accused of preying on dozens of women.
So I want you to press the rewind button. Go back to a time when Viola Davis’s Emmy for her portrayal of a driven criminal defense lawyer was unimaginable, back before Shondaland, or “Empire,” or “black-ish.” Before a black president sat in the Oval Office in “24” or in Washington.
Go back to Sept. 20, 1984, when Dr. Huxtable walked into the kitchen of his Brooklyn brownstone and introduced white audiences to one of the first black middle-class families to appear on prime-time TV.
I also have fond memories of the Cosby show and this brings up the question of how do you separate the art from the artist, the character from the creator.I was a high school senior then, watching the show on a Zenith television with my parents and two sisters in our house on Staten Island. Like many black families, we had grown accustomed to being mostly invisible on the small screen. There had been shows like “Sanford and Son,” “Good Times” and “The Jeffersons,” but the portrayals of African-Americans sometimes edged toward caricature. Watching Dr. Huxtable, who embodied so many of the fathers, grandfathers and uncles we knew, was electrifying.
I’ve never seen a Roman Polansky movie and I quit watching Woody Allen’s stuff decades ago. But what about great stars and directors from the '40s and '50s who were never exposed in their lifetime but are coming out now?