ABC'southward All in the Family and The Jeffersons Live Special Was a Retro Please

Woody Harrelson and Marisa Tomei, doing their version of "Those Were the Days." Photograph: Eric McCandless/ABC

Alive In Forepart of a Studio Audition, the xc-minute restaging of two archetype episodes of Norman Lear sitcoms performed past an all-star bandage, could have been only another shallow attempt to wallow in television receiver nostalgia. You know, like rebooting Press Your Luck and Card Sharks, something ABC volition exercise adjacent calendar month as role of its all-retro-game-show approach to summertime programming.

But the dorsum-to-dorsum staging of the All in the Family episode "Henry'due south Farewell" and the get-go-ever episode of The Jeffersons, an All in the Family spin-off, worked on more than levels than that. Information technology was effective as a televised stage play; equally, yes, an admittedly nostalgia-riddled exercise in watching contemporary actors try to nail the mannerisms of old sitcom characters; and as a reminder that the same social issues addressed in these nearly 50-year-old comedies remain relevant today. That last point is something Lear, who hosted the proceedings alongside executive producer Jimmy Kimmel, highlighted in his introduction. "At that place is so much more work we must do in this country we love so much," the TV pioneer said at the superlative of the show, while also warning the audition that the dialogue in the original scripts had not been watered down and might exist difficult to tum. (ABC did bleep the utilize of the Due north-word, twice, in The Jeffersons.)

Listening to Archie Bunker, played past Woody Harrelson in lieu of the great Carroll O'Connor, rails about "the coloreds" was indeed uncomfortable, partly because of the language simply partly because there surely are old white men in America, sitting in their worn living room armchairs, all the same talking like this.

"Black people have arrived," Ike Barinholtz, every bit Rob Reiner'southward Meathead, tells Archie. "They're hither." Archie's response: "I own't letting them in." This All in the Family episode first aired in 1973. It's both impressive and sad that it holds up as well as information technology does in 2019.

That initial episode — in which the Bunkers wind upwards hosting a expert-bye party for Henry Jefferson, who is moving out of their Queens neighborhood to get-go his own business organization — segued nicely into the first episode of The Jeffersons, in which George, played with advisable Sherman Hemsley peacockiness past Jamie Foxx, insists that his wife Louise (Wanda Sykes) hire a maid, a decision that makes Louise (or, Weezy), still adjusting to their new status as wealthy people, uncomfortable.

The Jeffersons was the slightly more entertaining endeavor because the dialogue and pacing had a flake more goose egg and all of the actors seemed to slide into their roles more comfortably. Will Ferrell and Kerry Washington every bit Tom and Helen Willis, roles originated past Franklin Cover and Roxie Roker, were really good together, and the sharp-tongued Sykes made Weezy effectively her own instead of trying to mimic Isabel Sanford. The Jeffersons portion as well benefitted from being bookended past two powerful moments: Jennifer Hudson in a Foxxy Cleopatra-esque wig singing "Movin' on Up," the show's bumpin' theme vocal, and the surprise appearance of Marla Gibbs, now 87, reprising her role equally Florence, George and Weezy's wisecracking maid. The fact that she shared a scene with Jackée Harry, playing Louise's friend Diane, made this something of a 227 reunion, too.

Watching all of this unfold live injected a sense of energy into the whole exercise. During the All in the Family portion, Foxx botched one of George Jefferson's lines. "Information technology's alive," he said, breaking character subsequently his natural language got all twisted during a toast to Henry, played by Anthony Anderson of Black-ish. "Everyone sitting at home just thinks their Tv messed up." In the background, Harrelson could exist seen turning his back to the camera because he was laughing so hard. That screw-upward and the subsequent try to go the scene dorsum on rail gave Live In Front of a Studio Audience the flavour of another great comedy from the same era: The Carol Burnett Show.

Ane of the most enjoyable aspects of watching this staged chip of time travel was gauging which actor did the best job of capturing the original performance. The MVP in that department was Marisa Tomei, whose high-pitched lilt and awkward lumbering was Jean Stapleton's Edith Bunker to a T, yet even so registered every bit acting equally opposed to a straight-up impression. Tomei got Edith'south warmth and agreeable ditziness merely correct. Harrelson, who had the almost difficult chore of anyone, didn't fare quite every bit well with Archie. He sometimes lost control of his Queens accent and seemed more whiny than grumpy, though his face-off with Foxx's George was a expert match.

Overall, everyone in the cast seemed to savor themselves and that gave this whole ABC experiment, directed past distinguished sitcom vet James Burrows, the type of verve that can't be replicated in pre-recorded scripted fare. Given how well information technology went, I wouldn't be surprised if ABC makes the alive sitcom its version of the live musicals that NBC and Play a joke on regularly phase. Fifty-fifty if information technology is a blatant nostalgia play, bringing some old Telly history into the present seems like a smart motility for ABC — and a reason for the rest of united states to actually watch live network goggle box for a change.

Live In Front end of a Studio Audience Was a Retro Delight