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| BRIDGET & JERRY DOBSON IN 2014 |
We’re coming to the sixth and final part of my interview with Bridget Dobson. If you have missed the previous parts, you can read them by clicking here. In this part she is going to tell about Eden & Cruz, the greatest supercouple of SANTA BARBARA. Then she'll discuss Mary's tragic death, an
Recently some of the most respected and knowledgeable people in the soap industry (including Connie Passalacqua Hayman - Marlena De Lacroix - and Nelson Aspen) drew up the 50 Greatest Soap Couples’ ranking of all time. In seventh place we have Eden and Cruz (played by Marcy Walker and A Martinez). They get ahead of some very popular couples like Josh & Reva from GL, Bo & Hope, Patch & Keyla from DAYS. This is surprising considering that Eden and Cruz are off the air from over twenty years. How could you explain the strength of these two characters as a couple and as a single characters? Which kind of cliché have they broken up?
I like complicated characters. (I am complicated myself) In the early days of soap opera, characters
were often too "pure" for my taste: evil or good. It made me gag. Nobody on earth is all one or the other. A character's words and behavior depend on
the circumstances, the tides of emotions that causes the reaction, If it is written subtly, and well acted, the
audience will understand, without it being spelled out, if a heroine (Eden) is jealous or bitter, or
a hero (Cruz) is defensive or ashamed. These are still very solid, attractive
characters, forgiven and loved by the audience because the audience recognizes
the truth and universality of the emotions they are experiencing.
I loved writing
"bad" characters, because I could make the character do something
kind and generous, let him puff himself up for his goodness, and yet trust the
audience to know he's still "a bad guy." The opposite is true for
characters like Cruz and Eden. In real life,
non fiction, have you ever known an "evil" person who didn't think he
was good? Or a good person who thought
he had no bad qualities? How do you feel
about yourself? If you are
"pure" life would be very predictable and very drab.
Marcy and A
are consummate actors who got into their characters and made them their
own. Sensitive writers pick up an
actor's personal qualities (a stutter? a flirtatiousness?, a
sense of comedy? a macho bravado?) and incorporate them into the character. All
in all, the creative interaction between the team - actor, writer, director -
makes the character better than it was on paper. I have been stunned by how much better a
scene or a show turns out when everybody contributes to the creative
process. Eden and Cruz are pieces of my
husband and myself. They are as attached
to ourselves as we are. And they (
we) are improved (given more depth and
nuance) by the creative process.
Mary Duvall, the former nun in love with Mason, was one of the most
popular characters of daytime. She was the first, true love of the tormented
Mason Capwell. Many believe that killing her was a big mistake, do you agree?
But all can still remember the sadistic, shocking, unexpected, extravagant way
she was killed off: crushed by the big C on the Capwell Hotel’s roof. According
to Sigmund Freud, there are no accidents in life, so I’d like to ask you what
the C really stood for.
In this case, Freud was right.
The writers, those unmitigated monsters, tried hard to make Mary's death
the most painful it could possibly be.
They imagined every kind of death - knifings, shootings, beheadings,
accidents of every kind - and they were excoriated by those who overheard
(without permission to listen in) in
elevators and restaurants as they contrived to make Mason writhe (good drama!)
in agony. Death must be potent. The inevitability of death is the most
dreaded part of love. When they hit upon the Big C, it was symbolically
perfect. Capwell. CC Capwell.
Mason’s father. CC was the person
Mason loved and hated and envied most in the world. The tenderness and competitiveness of the
father/son relationship was eating Mason alive.
Mason's father, CC, was responsible (he created the sign, he was the big
C of Capwell) for Mary’s death. The C that haunted Mason and loved him and
tormented him and elevated him....that C caused Mary's death in the twisted
minds of the writers, who laughed all the way to the bank. This is fiction,
baby. If you feel it, it must be working. (One has to be tough to enjoy the mayhem one causes.)
Recently I was reading a note (dated September 1985) addressed by you to Brian Frons in which you proposed a brief AIDS storyline, involving a supporting character: Sister Isabel, Mary’s Mother Superior. But that storyline never aired. It’s curious, cause in those days a real Aids story occurred to the SB cast: in fact Joel Crothers had to left the show, dying few weeks later, due to the Aids related complications. The year before, Rock Hudson (who starred on Dynasty) died, causing a contagion’s big fear among the cast. Do you remember how it happened on SB and how you and the cast reacted (mostly Nancy Lee Grahn who was Crothers’ love interest on SB)?
One day, as we were planning to launch SB, Brian called and said he and the President of NBC-TV wanted SB to have a story involving AIDS. Jerry and I resisted. It certainly was a topic in the headlines. But it was scary and depressing. We felt the viewers would not watch a show that depressed them. At that time not enough was known about the disease and generally it was considered a death sentence. Maybe 10 telephone calls went back and forth. It was another major argument. Then Brian pulled out the big blunderbuss, which he seemed to wield with great pleasure, and said that the network would refuse to put SB on the air unless we told an AIDS story. Period. A red line drawn in the sand. So Jerry and I concocted the least painful aids story we could think of: a 98-year old nun, with an impaired immune system, about ready to expire, contracted AIDS. We hated this story. So did NBC, it turns out. We got on air anyway. Red lines, it seems, aren't what they used to be.
Joel was a wonderful person. I was very concerned when he came into my office and said he had a lump in his abdomen that wouldn't go away. I urged him to get medical help immediately. That was the last time I saw him. As I wrote earlier, we didn't have enough knowledge of the disease so, probably, most members of the cast were both sorry about Joel and afraid for themselves. Nothing more happened to anyone else, as far as I know.
In 1991 you and your husband finally back to the show that you have
created. Shortly after your return, something new and never seen before happens
on the show: it featured interviews taped in Moscow with Soviet citizens who resisted
the failed August coup. An unexpected documentary turn. The storyline calls for
Warren Lockridge (played by Jack Wagner) to journey to the Soviet Union to be
at the forefront of that country’s emerging democracy. Can you tell us how this
experience came to you?
Day after day, year after year, we were writing a show that was,
sometimes, fun and emotionally relevant, but we were ignoring the fact that the
world was changing. I drove to and from
the studio, each way one hour, listening to the radio, being stunned by news
reports of the Iron Curtain coming down, the Berlin Wall being breached,
etc. Gradually it got to me. I was on fire one morning when I burst into
the studio saying, "We have to get relevant to the world situation.
Astonishing things are happening, and we don't even mention them." I was rabid.
We were too stuck in the old "soap" pattern. (Honestly, I
think SB was better than that. SB was innovative and different, but it served
my point to put it simplistically .) I said we needed to go to Moscow and talk
to the people, mostly young, who manned the barricades and risked their lives
to defend democracy against the Russian Army tanks. I think there was close to a hundred percent
agreement (Jerry being the exception) that I was crazy. But I went to the
President of NBC, he listened, and, finally, agreed to give us $50,000 to go to
Moscow. If the cost of the trip exceeded
that amount, he said, it would come out
of the Dobsons' pockets. So, excited about the prospect of doing something radically
different, we decided to go to Russia.
We had to stretch to integrate this concept with the drama that was
continuing on the show. (I fear, in
retrospect, that may have created a few bumps, a bit of a hiccup in the
drama.) It also involved a vast
coordination with Russia TV, but they were more than eager to help, since the
show was a huge hit in Russia. Russia TV
found the people in the Resistance who spoke the best English. Jerry stayed in Los Angeles to take care of
the on-going show, and I went to Moscow with a producer and a cameraman. All we could afford. (I remember walking through Red Square, past
the Kremlin and toward Saint Basil's
cathedral. There was a full
moon. I was with the camera man. I said, "Gosh this is so romantic. I wish you were Jerry." He said, "Yes, I wish you were someone
else, too." Sorry. I just deviated from my story!)
The next day I interviewed each of the
English-speaking resisters. They were
fascinating, moving, terribly brave.
They were fighting for something they believed in, against all they had
been taught as young communists. I was
on fire, again, by the end of the day, so it was easy to stay up all night and
write the script for Jack Wagner, who was coming to Moscow the following
day. We planned to film that very
day. We were on such a budget,
everything was hurried. Then I got a
call from Jerry. Jack Wagner had just
arrived in Paris. He called Jerry
wondering why he was there. He had
missed his plane to Moscow and had clearly been partying at 50,000 feet. Jerry sent him to a hotel in Paris, to sleep
it off. He arranged for Jack to come to
Moscow one day late. Which ruined our
budget and the whole carefully planned schedule, but what else could be
done? I jumped to plan B. In plan B, I would play Jack Wagner's part,
asking questions of the Resisters, but the camera would never be on me. The Resisters would be filmed. Then, when Jack arrived, the camera would be
on him (no Resisters would be present) asking the questions I had scripted, and
it would later be edited in studio so it "looked right." We knew it was possible that it would rain on
Jack while the Resisters would be in the dry sunlight. The power of show biz is great, but not great
enough to influence weather patterns.
One last lump: the state-of-the-art camera that we brought from America
didn't work , so we had to rely on a camera, vintage 1965 or so, provided by
Russia TV. It worked beautifully.
I am proud of this "crazy" on-location sequence. It was a little wild. It was a tribute to the Resisters. And, if I remember correctly, it won the show
several awards. Also, "Entertainment Tonight" did a piece
on it. (Another unimportant deviation: our little troupe visited the
"Lenin graveyard", in which all the statues of Lenin that had been
torn down were lying around in disarray .
A Russian Army soldier sat in a truck nearby watching everything we
did. At one point I looked at him, and
he motioned to me to come to his truck.
I hesitated, wondered if it was safe, decided I'd never know unless I
went over to him. I got in his
truck. He nodded. I nodded.
He couldn't say anything in English, nor could I in Russian. We grunted and smiled and nodded again. Then I left, but not before he gave me his
Army hat, brown and red, with a Russian newspaper folded carefully to stiffen
the brim. I see that hat every day now,
as I eat breakfast, perched on top of an antique marble lion, which I think came from Italy.)
After having definitely left the show in 1992, what happened to the
Dobsons in the last 20 years?
After 1992, Jerry and I had to examine our lives, talk about where we
were and what we still wanted. Without
regrets about the past, we looked for something totally different in the
future: normalcy. We wanted time for
reading, painting, going to movies, making friends. Even tiny things like going to a grocery
store -it was such a joyful experience.
All the fresh fruit! I hadn't
seen it in years. Los Angeles is not my
idea of a "normal" city. It is
fun to visit, lovely vistas - sea and mountains,, the weather is great. But the entertainment industry has twisted
minds and hearts. Making money and being
beautiful are the ultimate successes.
Kindness is seen as a weakness.
Charity works if you do it for publicity. Scholarship is for nerds.
Morality is old-fashioned and stupid.
Hypocrisy, greed, deceit are so prevalent that nobody thinks twice about
them.. Of course these are generalizations and don't apply to every single person. Just most of them.
Our interview is over, Ms. Dobson. We started in
February 2012 and we are ending today, after more than two years. I'm sure that
my questions were not among the best that someone asked you, but no doubt I was
the only one to have the honor to ask you questions for so long. Could you
share with us one last memory as a special tribute to the show and its 30th
anniversary?
In 1983, before SB was on the air, Jerry and I were
incredibly busy. Starting from scratch -
literally starting with a blank piece of paper - and creating an hour-long per
day television drama (it was cut in half for some European distribution), was
the most thrilling and frustrating and enormous task we had ever tackled. We weren't just creating the show that aired,
which you know, but we were doing behind the scenes stuff that needs to be
done: the "business" end; negotiating details of contracts,
specifying which sets to create first, keeping an eye on the payroll, hiring
directors and producers, writing casting scenes for every part, deciding on the
logo and billboards, etc. In addition,
and this was the most difficult, we had to have an on-going working
relationship with a number of executives at NBC, executives whose own jobs were
on the line if this project didn't fly. (For the rest of this tale, I will
refer to the NBC executives as the "SUITS") Large egos were (and are) endemic in
Hollywood SUITS. Every one had all the
answers. They were all drama experts, or
so they seemed to think. Privately, Jerry and I were pleased - even ecstatic -
when they got off our backs for an hour or two.
One
afternoon we were at our home in Los Angeles creating away, bubbling over with
ideas and excitement. Things were going
well. And then the gate bell rang. We
were not expecting anyone. We looked at
each other. Should we answer the bell or
pretend we're not home? We answered
it. Big mistake. The SUITS had arrived unexpectedly. Damn.
The SUITS again. How dare they
just barge in without warning? Things
were going great and...We opened the front door and two of the most powerful
and egomaniacal SUITS entered. We four
stood awkwardly near the front door, under the entry chandelier. What did they want, we asked, finding smiles
somehow. They said they wanted to talk storylines again. Ugh.
How could we get out of this? We
were desperate not to do what they wanted to do.
Then
suddenly I remembered: my bathtub upstairs was filling with water. "Gentlemen, I'm so sorry. I have to go upstairs and turn off the bath
water."
Jerry was
on to me: "Darling, I can do that. Stay here. Let me do that."
I said,
" No, I'll do it. I was planning to
take a bath and wasn't expecting company.
I'll be back shortly."
Jerry:
"I'll do it, sweetheart. No problem."
I could hear the determination in his voice.
B:
"It's MY bathwater."
J:
"Yes, but I'll turn it off."
B:
"No you won't."
J:
"Yes I will."
B:
"No."
I turned and
ran up the stairs as fast as I could.
Jerry followed. I went up to the
first landing, turned left. Jerry
followed. The SUITS were watching in
horror (They were thinking, "These are the people we entrusted with the
show?") and astonishment.
I ran, fast
as I could, into the bedroom and around the big bed to the right and right
again toward my bathroom. Jerry cheated:
he jumped onto the bed, ran across it, and entered the bathroom before I did.
B:
"No..ooooo"
Jerry jumped
into the nearly full tub with his shoes and socks and pants on, took a couple
of steps in the hot water, and turned the faucets off.
B:"Are you crazy? Are you
out of your mind?" I was hissing and yelling at one time.
J: "I
told you I'd turn it off, and I did."
B: "We
have guests downstairs."
J: "I
know." And then he laughed.
We trudged
out of the bedroom. The SUITS were still
there, their jaws having dropped slightly. I could see them through the glitter
of the chandelier. Jerry followed me,
dripping wet, down the stairs. He was
squishing and splurging on the oriental carpet.
His pants were sopping up to the knees.
I was mortified, but I think Jerry was just a little triumphant. This
was, for him, or so he pretended, just business as usual.
It was a
rare moment: the SUITS were
speechless. One of them swallowed hard
and managed to ask one question:
"Any chance you could create a character like Jerry?" And so it was....Lionel Lockridge was born.
There is a postscript to this story. We work out every day at a gym, and yesterday
one of the men there, a SB fan, said to me (without having heard the story),
"I was trying to think of who Jerry reminded me of...and I finally figured
it out. He reminds me of Lionel
Lockridge." How perceptive.
- THE END -
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