bigpurplebear-1
jul 2003 se unió
Te damos la bienvenida a nuevo perfil
Nuestras actualizaciones aún están en desarrollo. Si bien la versión anterior de el perfil ya no está disponible, estamos trabajando activamente en mejoras, ¡y algunas de las funciones que faltan regresarán pronto! Mantente al tanto para su regreso. Mientras tanto, el análisis de calificaciones sigue disponible en nuestras aplicaciones para iOS y Android, en la página de perfil. Para ver la distribución de tus calificaciones por año y género, consulta nuestra nueva Guía de ayuda.
Distintivos2
Para saber cómo ganar distintivos, ve a página de ayuda de distintivos.
Reseñas10
Clasificación de bigpurplebear-1
Pointing the finger at "aimlessness" as the culprit for this excellent show's early demise is, in a sense, as misleading as describing "The Smith Family" as "lighthearted." Neither term is fully adequate when discussing this series. It's more accurate to say that this is a show that deserved an audience, yet failed to find one. Quite likely, such an audience simply didn't exist; sadly, I doubt even more that one would readily materialize today.
Picture "Dragnet's" Joe Friday as a family man, happily married and determined to keep his job and his homelife separate. There you have the challenge faced by Henry Fonda's Detective Sgt. Chad Smith, and the focal point around which each episode revolved. His determination to safeguard his family's normality is illustrated by their picket fence-enclosed house on Primrose Lane (an image further reinforced by the use of Jerry Wallace's hit "Primrose Lane" as the show's theme song, sung by Mike Minor with special lyrics). Unfortunately, this normality too often translated in the series as "mundane," partially due to excellent performances by a standout cast (which included a post-Opie Ron Howard as teenage son Bob), all of whom never stepped out of character.
The show did have some solid moments to it, including the episode in which a mild-mannered middle-aged gentleman inveigles his way into the Smith household as "an old friend of Chet's" shortly before Chet is due home. The suspense builds, as we're aware that this charming, innocuous individual is actually quite mad, and determined to kill Sgt. Smith for having sent him to prison several years earlier. How Chet manages to save himself and, afterward, keep his family from learning the truth (Chet: "He had an appointment and couldn't stay for supper." Betty: "Oh, what a shame.") is handled without an excess of drama or violence, highly realistically, and delivers a superb payoff. Again unfortunately, however, such quiet heroism is rarely the fare of network TV success.
Had the show delivered a touch either of the "bells and whistles and sirens" of most contemporary police dramas, or else the alcoholism and stress-related angst which several Wambaugh-inspired series would soon introduce into cops' off-duty lives, "The Smith Family" might have stuck around significantly longer. Unfortunately, Chet Smith was simply a decent man fighting the good fight, both on the job and at home; the series' doom came as a result of his winning both fights so handily.
What a shame!
Picture "Dragnet's" Joe Friday as a family man, happily married and determined to keep his job and his homelife separate. There you have the challenge faced by Henry Fonda's Detective Sgt. Chad Smith, and the focal point around which each episode revolved. His determination to safeguard his family's normality is illustrated by their picket fence-enclosed house on Primrose Lane (an image further reinforced by the use of Jerry Wallace's hit "Primrose Lane" as the show's theme song, sung by Mike Minor with special lyrics). Unfortunately, this normality too often translated in the series as "mundane," partially due to excellent performances by a standout cast (which included a post-Opie Ron Howard as teenage son Bob), all of whom never stepped out of character.
The show did have some solid moments to it, including the episode in which a mild-mannered middle-aged gentleman inveigles his way into the Smith household as "an old friend of Chet's" shortly before Chet is due home. The suspense builds, as we're aware that this charming, innocuous individual is actually quite mad, and determined to kill Sgt. Smith for having sent him to prison several years earlier. How Chet manages to save himself and, afterward, keep his family from learning the truth (Chet: "He had an appointment and couldn't stay for supper." Betty: "Oh, what a shame.") is handled without an excess of drama or violence, highly realistically, and delivers a superb payoff. Again unfortunately, however, such quiet heroism is rarely the fare of network TV success.
Had the show delivered a touch either of the "bells and whistles and sirens" of most contemporary police dramas, or else the alcoholism and stress-related angst which several Wambaugh-inspired series would soon introduce into cops' off-duty lives, "The Smith Family" might have stuck around significantly longer. Unfortunately, Chet Smith was simply a decent man fighting the good fight, both on the job and at home; the series' doom came as a result of his winning both fights so handily.
What a shame!
"The Man Who Saved Christmas" would probably fail the historical accuracy test on any number of points -- casting roly-poly Jason Alexander as the former Olympic athlete A.C. Gilbert, for example; or the fact that A.C. jr., who features prominently in the film's storyline, wasn't even born until almost a year after World War I ended -- and so, if historical accuracy is your main criterion in judging a film, skip this one.
If, however, you're after warmth with intelligence, or a dose of sweetness that is neither sappy nor cloying, with perhaps a few telling insights into human nature thrown in for good measure, I suggest taking a look at this one. Jason Alexander crafts an amazing character, balancing childlike innocence against shrewd business savvy as his A.C. Gilbert struggles in his decency to do the right thing. First, however, he has to determine for himself just what is, ultimately, that "right thing," blind, unquestioning patriotic adherence to what the government wants out of him, or to look within himself as well and to follow the voicings of his own conscience? And, if so, then how to reconcile the two?
It's a particular strength of this film that there are no clear-cut "bad guys," per se. Even the senior Gilbert's seemingly hardheaded Scrooginess (under Ed Asner's stewardship) is tempered by an affection that doesn't come off as forced; but then, neither does the man's various changes of heart as he's forced to reconcile his own attitudes with those of his sons.
The real-life A.C. Gilbert is said to have trusted in the intelligence of the children to whom he marketed his science/technology-oriented toys. The same can be said for the producers of "The Man Who Saved Christmas" and their attitude toward their audience.
If, however, you're after warmth with intelligence, or a dose of sweetness that is neither sappy nor cloying, with perhaps a few telling insights into human nature thrown in for good measure, I suggest taking a look at this one. Jason Alexander crafts an amazing character, balancing childlike innocence against shrewd business savvy as his A.C. Gilbert struggles in his decency to do the right thing. First, however, he has to determine for himself just what is, ultimately, that "right thing," blind, unquestioning patriotic adherence to what the government wants out of him, or to look within himself as well and to follow the voicings of his own conscience? And, if so, then how to reconcile the two?
It's a particular strength of this film that there are no clear-cut "bad guys," per se. Even the senior Gilbert's seemingly hardheaded Scrooginess (under Ed Asner's stewardship) is tempered by an affection that doesn't come off as forced; but then, neither does the man's various changes of heart as he's forced to reconcile his own attitudes with those of his sons.
The real-life A.C. Gilbert is said to have trusted in the intelligence of the children to whom he marketed his science/technology-oriented toys. The same can be said for the producers of "The Man Who Saved Christmas" and their attitude toward their audience.
