Stuck In The '70's
07-14-2008, 02:21 PM
http://www.madison.com/tct/mad/entertainment/295965
Fifty years later, Mathers still enjoys being 'The Beav'
The Capital Times — 7/12/2008 9:06 pm
Jerry Mathers had lunch last week with Barbara Billingsley, the now 92-year-old woman who played his mother on the most famous family sitcom of all time. Such is their bond from their days together on "Leave it to Beaver," which has been on the air continuously since its debut in 1957.
Just imagine if they would have added another joint credit to their Screen Actors Guild resumes: "Airplane!"
Turns out that both received scripts from the comedic masterminds of that 1980 movie -- Jim Abrahams and the brother tandem of David and Jerry Zucker, who are from the Milwaukee suburb of Shorewood and attended the University of Wisconsin.
Billingsley accepted, and the trio created a hilarious cameo spot in which she spoofs her wholesome image as June Cleaver to serve as interpreter for a pair of African-American passengers who only speak jive. Her parting shot, after her efforts to aid the sick bro were rebuked: "Chump don' want no help, chump don' get da help."
Mathers, meanwhile, declined the offer, uncertain that the off-color pranks and passages outlined on paper would come off well on the big screen.
"It was a very funny movie, but when you read (in the script) that somebody says something, and then they put down a fan and drop dog poop in front of it, this doesn't sound funny," Mathers said, chuckling.
"Barbara was absolutely hilarious in that -- absolutely hilarious."
And Mathers, 60, was absolutely forthcoming in an interview Friday with The Capital Times before his promotional appearance that night at Warner Park, in which fans could meet and greet "The Beav" prior to and during the Madison Mallards' game against the Wisconsin Woodchucks.
"There's so many people I would never have had a chance to meet in my life if it wasn't for being the Beaver," said Mathers, who seemed enthused about the visit to Madison. "I've met just about anybody you can think of, but the other half is people who aren't famous who are just truly interesting people. They would have passed me by and I pass them by."
Following is an edited recap of a conversation between Mathers and sports editor Adam Mertz.
Now starting at linebacker: The Beav
Since Mathers was in Madison on account of sports -- as Theodore Cleaver might phrase it -- it only seemed fitting to ask him about his own athletic background. Turns out that in the fall of 1963, a few months after the show ended its six-year run, Mathers was a freshman on the football team at Notre Dame High in Sherman Oaks, Calif., that won a regional title. He played center and linebacker throughout his time there, and recalls once as a senior "bouncing off of" a freshman named John Vella who went on to play at USC and with the Oakland Raiders. He also was on the track and field and swimming teams.
"The reason I kind of got out of acting after 'Leave it to Beaver' was my freshman year in high school. My dad was fully employed, which didn't happen with a lot of other child actors whose parents said, 'You have to work,'" said Mathers, who had been privately tutored during his acting career, an education he compared to that of classic European royalty. "So when 'Leave it to Beaver' ended in 1963, the studio came to my parents and they had a movie they had developed, and another series. And so my parents came to me -- and we had been working 39 weeks a year for the last six years -- and my parents said, 'Is this something you want to do?' and I said, 'No, I want to go to regular school so I can play sports.'"
A hit with baseball fans
Mathers is regularly invited to do promotional appearances at baseball games -- on his major-league resume are the Dodgers, Pirates, Cubs and A's -- but he has a special place in his heart for minor league teams or franchises such as the Mallards, who carry college players.
"I especially like teams like the Mallards because you get to be a lot closer to the fans. Obviously, you do Dodgers or Cubs or Oakland A's, you're in a huge thing and you can't really get one-on-one with them. And I think that's what people appreciate about this kind of baseball, is that the fans really get to know the players. ... I think the people appreciate having a genuine relationship with these players. It's really a thrill to meet someone and five, six years down the road he's in the majors. You can follow his career. And I think that's why it's such a popular sport."
There are worse labels in life
Mathers was able to walk away from acting as a career, although he continues to pick his spots -- such as a three-month run on Broadway last year in "Hairspray" -- and receives about five scripts for review per month. He earned a philosophy degree at Berkeley and used proceeds from his acting to start a career in real estate and finance. Yet a half-century later he embraces his role as "The Beav" and doesn't seem burdened one bit by the mantle.
"Being an All-American boy is not the worst character to have to live down. Jay North (Dennis the Menace), I'm not telling tales out of school here -- he had his parents, and an aunt and uncle and their families all living off his money and putting terrible pressures on him, saying if he didn't work, they wouldn't be able to put food on the table. My dad was fully employed. And (North) was playing this wise-cracking kid, whereas the Beaver is this nice character that I think boys and girls can relate to. The character is male but I don't think it's that much different for any kid, a lot of the stuff that he does."
It wasn't reality TV
People who didn't live through the 1950s often wonder if "Leave it to Beaver" was a realistic portrayal of American life in that era or a romanticized version of events. In Mathers' mind, it was a little of both. Joe Connelly, who co-wrote the show along with Bob Mosher, had kept a journal of stories from his youth that he adapted, and he and Mosher had nine kids between them to keep the material flowing. But the show was also a calculated effort to broadcast the ideal American nuclear family to international audiences; it plays in about 90 languages in 120 countries. That includes Japan, where the show is titled "Happy Boy and his Family" and the voice-over for Beaver is done by a girl, "which works for the first three years, but by the last year I was 14!" Mathers notes.
"Before 'Leave it to Beaver,' most of the shows that went overseas -- in fact just about all of them -- were either gangsters or cowboys, because that was the genre they could sell overseas. So the writers were very aware that they were presenting the American way of life, but an idealized way of life, to the world. A lot of people -- and this sounds crazy -- but they thought everybody in the United States are gangsters, because that's what we were showing them.
"The other thing is that they wanted to show an idealized situation comedy. Of course, the 'reality' shows today, I think most people realize they're not reality, they're totally manipulated. It wasn't a reality show, it was situation comedy. If you watch the kids today, even on the situation comedy, it's a whole different genre. 'Leave it to Beaver' comes out of situations happening to the characters. Shows today, it's set-up, set-up, joke. So you have your kids who are 7, 8 years old being like a Buddy Hackett or something ... kids aren't really like that. But they try to be now, because that's what they're shown."
Reba, Bernie Mac and not a lot else
Part of Mathers' schedule these days involves delivering presentations on the state of the modern American family and television's impact on society. Two shows stick out in Mathers' mind as modern-day versions of his program: "Reba" and "The Bernie Mac Show." Overall, he's not a big fan of the boob tube.
"What I always say is, whatever people watch, that's fine, but I don't have to watch it. I really, honestly, don't watch a whole lot of TV, just because a lot of the things that are on, really don't interest me. There's no show that I can think of that I have to watch every week. I read books. I play guitar. I have other things that I do in my spare time. And I value my spare time. If I have some extra time and I flip on the TV, I'm much more likely to watch the History Channel, National Geographic, the news, things that I feel in some way will improve or expand my knowledge."
Try to catch his favorite episode
There were 234 episodes over the program's six-year run, and Mathers has a clear-cut favorite -- although his sentiment has nothing to do with what actually happened in the show. It's episode No. 123, where Wally -- his older brother, played by Tony Dow -- thinks he lands a prestigious lifeguard job at Friends Lake (now the "Jaws Lake" on the Universal Pictures property) and tells everyone about it, only to find out when he arrives for work that since he's not 18, he'll have to be a hot dog vendor. It's a big disappointment to not only Wally, but also Beaver and all the friends he has invited to the beach that day along with his parents, June and Ward.
"When we went to Friends Lake -- which wasn't all that often, because we were on a sound stage -- at lunch, Tony and I were allowed to fish that lake, which had bluegill in it for mosquito abatement. We'd get from the prop man a fishing pole and we'd use bread from the caterer and put it on the hook. And that day I caught more fish than Tony Dow, and the biggest bluegill that's ever been pulled out of that lake. So every time I see that episode, it reminds me of that -- that's why it was my favorite episode. I think I caught 14 that day."
About that cap "Beav" always wore ...
Mathers was one of the first child actors to receive a percentage of the royalties off the show, a wise arrangement he credits to the producers and his parents. That paid off over time with the likes of books based on the series by the accomplished writer Beverly Cleary and other merchandising. According to Mathers, the most valuable collectible is a Tiddly Winks game called "Shoot to the Moon" because "Leave it to Beaver" is the first show of the space age, having premiered on Oct. 4, 1957 -- the same night that Sputnik was launched by the Soviets. Mathers' favorite piece of memorabilia from the show, however, is personal.
"I have my hat, which is kind of a funny thing. When you do a TV show, if I had this shirt when I was doing "Leave it to Beaver," I had six different shirts. Because if I spilled anything, if I sweated, anything, they had to match the shots because it was on film. It may have taken us an hour-and-a-half, two hours, to do a minute scene. A lot of things can happen to your clothes in that time. And if they have to wash them at night -- if you spill something on one shirt -- they have to wash all six of them so they all fade the same.
"But, the very first day we came was an episode called Captain Jack, about the boys getting an alligator, and they go to Friends Lake again and it had to look like an alligator farm at one end. My mom, because it was kind of a cold day -- it must have been a fall or even winter day -- as we were going to the studio, she put this baseball cap on me just because we were going to be outside and didn't want me to get cold. So the director looked at me, and said, 'Oh, I like that hat. Leave it on him.' And the wardrobe man kinda went, 'Oh, OK, I'll get another one and then we'll just match it.' Couldn't find one. So that's the only cap I had for six years."
Fifty years later, Mathers still enjoys being 'The Beav'
The Capital Times — 7/12/2008 9:06 pm
Jerry Mathers had lunch last week with Barbara Billingsley, the now 92-year-old woman who played his mother on the most famous family sitcom of all time. Such is their bond from their days together on "Leave it to Beaver," which has been on the air continuously since its debut in 1957.
Just imagine if they would have added another joint credit to their Screen Actors Guild resumes: "Airplane!"
Turns out that both received scripts from the comedic masterminds of that 1980 movie -- Jim Abrahams and the brother tandem of David and Jerry Zucker, who are from the Milwaukee suburb of Shorewood and attended the University of Wisconsin.
Billingsley accepted, and the trio created a hilarious cameo spot in which she spoofs her wholesome image as June Cleaver to serve as interpreter for a pair of African-American passengers who only speak jive. Her parting shot, after her efforts to aid the sick bro were rebuked: "Chump don' want no help, chump don' get da help."
Mathers, meanwhile, declined the offer, uncertain that the off-color pranks and passages outlined on paper would come off well on the big screen.
"It was a very funny movie, but when you read (in the script) that somebody says something, and then they put down a fan and drop dog poop in front of it, this doesn't sound funny," Mathers said, chuckling.
"Barbara was absolutely hilarious in that -- absolutely hilarious."
And Mathers, 60, was absolutely forthcoming in an interview Friday with The Capital Times before his promotional appearance that night at Warner Park, in which fans could meet and greet "The Beav" prior to and during the Madison Mallards' game against the Wisconsin Woodchucks.
"There's so many people I would never have had a chance to meet in my life if it wasn't for being the Beaver," said Mathers, who seemed enthused about the visit to Madison. "I've met just about anybody you can think of, but the other half is people who aren't famous who are just truly interesting people. They would have passed me by and I pass them by."
Following is an edited recap of a conversation between Mathers and sports editor Adam Mertz.
Now starting at linebacker: The Beav
Since Mathers was in Madison on account of sports -- as Theodore Cleaver might phrase it -- it only seemed fitting to ask him about his own athletic background. Turns out that in the fall of 1963, a few months after the show ended its six-year run, Mathers was a freshman on the football team at Notre Dame High in Sherman Oaks, Calif., that won a regional title. He played center and linebacker throughout his time there, and recalls once as a senior "bouncing off of" a freshman named John Vella who went on to play at USC and with the Oakland Raiders. He also was on the track and field and swimming teams.
"The reason I kind of got out of acting after 'Leave it to Beaver' was my freshman year in high school. My dad was fully employed, which didn't happen with a lot of other child actors whose parents said, 'You have to work,'" said Mathers, who had been privately tutored during his acting career, an education he compared to that of classic European royalty. "So when 'Leave it to Beaver' ended in 1963, the studio came to my parents and they had a movie they had developed, and another series. And so my parents came to me -- and we had been working 39 weeks a year for the last six years -- and my parents said, 'Is this something you want to do?' and I said, 'No, I want to go to regular school so I can play sports.'"
A hit with baseball fans
Mathers is regularly invited to do promotional appearances at baseball games -- on his major-league resume are the Dodgers, Pirates, Cubs and A's -- but he has a special place in his heart for minor league teams or franchises such as the Mallards, who carry college players.
"I especially like teams like the Mallards because you get to be a lot closer to the fans. Obviously, you do Dodgers or Cubs or Oakland A's, you're in a huge thing and you can't really get one-on-one with them. And I think that's what people appreciate about this kind of baseball, is that the fans really get to know the players. ... I think the people appreciate having a genuine relationship with these players. It's really a thrill to meet someone and five, six years down the road he's in the majors. You can follow his career. And I think that's why it's such a popular sport."
There are worse labels in life
Mathers was able to walk away from acting as a career, although he continues to pick his spots -- such as a three-month run on Broadway last year in "Hairspray" -- and receives about five scripts for review per month. He earned a philosophy degree at Berkeley and used proceeds from his acting to start a career in real estate and finance. Yet a half-century later he embraces his role as "The Beav" and doesn't seem burdened one bit by the mantle.
"Being an All-American boy is not the worst character to have to live down. Jay North (Dennis the Menace), I'm not telling tales out of school here -- he had his parents, and an aunt and uncle and their families all living off his money and putting terrible pressures on him, saying if he didn't work, they wouldn't be able to put food on the table. My dad was fully employed. And (North) was playing this wise-cracking kid, whereas the Beaver is this nice character that I think boys and girls can relate to. The character is male but I don't think it's that much different for any kid, a lot of the stuff that he does."
It wasn't reality TV
People who didn't live through the 1950s often wonder if "Leave it to Beaver" was a realistic portrayal of American life in that era or a romanticized version of events. In Mathers' mind, it was a little of both. Joe Connelly, who co-wrote the show along with Bob Mosher, had kept a journal of stories from his youth that he adapted, and he and Mosher had nine kids between them to keep the material flowing. But the show was also a calculated effort to broadcast the ideal American nuclear family to international audiences; it plays in about 90 languages in 120 countries. That includes Japan, where the show is titled "Happy Boy and his Family" and the voice-over for Beaver is done by a girl, "which works for the first three years, but by the last year I was 14!" Mathers notes.
"Before 'Leave it to Beaver,' most of the shows that went overseas -- in fact just about all of them -- were either gangsters or cowboys, because that was the genre they could sell overseas. So the writers were very aware that they were presenting the American way of life, but an idealized way of life, to the world. A lot of people -- and this sounds crazy -- but they thought everybody in the United States are gangsters, because that's what we were showing them.
"The other thing is that they wanted to show an idealized situation comedy. Of course, the 'reality' shows today, I think most people realize they're not reality, they're totally manipulated. It wasn't a reality show, it was situation comedy. If you watch the kids today, even on the situation comedy, it's a whole different genre. 'Leave it to Beaver' comes out of situations happening to the characters. Shows today, it's set-up, set-up, joke. So you have your kids who are 7, 8 years old being like a Buddy Hackett or something ... kids aren't really like that. But they try to be now, because that's what they're shown."
Reba, Bernie Mac and not a lot else
Part of Mathers' schedule these days involves delivering presentations on the state of the modern American family and television's impact on society. Two shows stick out in Mathers' mind as modern-day versions of his program: "Reba" and "The Bernie Mac Show." Overall, he's not a big fan of the boob tube.
"What I always say is, whatever people watch, that's fine, but I don't have to watch it. I really, honestly, don't watch a whole lot of TV, just because a lot of the things that are on, really don't interest me. There's no show that I can think of that I have to watch every week. I read books. I play guitar. I have other things that I do in my spare time. And I value my spare time. If I have some extra time and I flip on the TV, I'm much more likely to watch the History Channel, National Geographic, the news, things that I feel in some way will improve or expand my knowledge."
Try to catch his favorite episode
There were 234 episodes over the program's six-year run, and Mathers has a clear-cut favorite -- although his sentiment has nothing to do with what actually happened in the show. It's episode No. 123, where Wally -- his older brother, played by Tony Dow -- thinks he lands a prestigious lifeguard job at Friends Lake (now the "Jaws Lake" on the Universal Pictures property) and tells everyone about it, only to find out when he arrives for work that since he's not 18, he'll have to be a hot dog vendor. It's a big disappointment to not only Wally, but also Beaver and all the friends he has invited to the beach that day along with his parents, June and Ward.
"When we went to Friends Lake -- which wasn't all that often, because we were on a sound stage -- at lunch, Tony and I were allowed to fish that lake, which had bluegill in it for mosquito abatement. We'd get from the prop man a fishing pole and we'd use bread from the caterer and put it on the hook. And that day I caught more fish than Tony Dow, and the biggest bluegill that's ever been pulled out of that lake. So every time I see that episode, it reminds me of that -- that's why it was my favorite episode. I think I caught 14 that day."
About that cap "Beav" always wore ...
Mathers was one of the first child actors to receive a percentage of the royalties off the show, a wise arrangement he credits to the producers and his parents. That paid off over time with the likes of books based on the series by the accomplished writer Beverly Cleary and other merchandising. According to Mathers, the most valuable collectible is a Tiddly Winks game called "Shoot to the Moon" because "Leave it to Beaver" is the first show of the space age, having premiered on Oct. 4, 1957 -- the same night that Sputnik was launched by the Soviets. Mathers' favorite piece of memorabilia from the show, however, is personal.
"I have my hat, which is kind of a funny thing. When you do a TV show, if I had this shirt when I was doing "Leave it to Beaver," I had six different shirts. Because if I spilled anything, if I sweated, anything, they had to match the shots because it was on film. It may have taken us an hour-and-a-half, two hours, to do a minute scene. A lot of things can happen to your clothes in that time. And if they have to wash them at night -- if you spill something on one shirt -- they have to wash all six of them so they all fade the same.
"But, the very first day we came was an episode called Captain Jack, about the boys getting an alligator, and they go to Friends Lake again and it had to look like an alligator farm at one end. My mom, because it was kind of a cold day -- it must have been a fall or even winter day -- as we were going to the studio, she put this baseball cap on me just because we were going to be outside and didn't want me to get cold. So the director looked at me, and said, 'Oh, I like that hat. Leave it on him.' And the wardrobe man kinda went, 'Oh, OK, I'll get another one and then we'll just match it.' Couldn't find one. So that's the only cap I had for six years."