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Those were the days-Patrick Breen, Teri Hatcher, Shiri Appleby, Marian Mercer, Robert Loggia, Martha Gehman and Kari Lizer in Sunday Dinner
Sunday Dinner aired from June until July 1991 on CBS.
Set in New York's Long Island, Sunday Dinner chronicled the family conflicts caused by the engagement of the 56-year-old widowed owner of a printing business, Ben Benedict ( Robert Loggia) to an environmental activist attorney, TT Fagori ( Teri Hatcher), 26 years his junior. His family thought he was crazy and kept referring to TT-behind her back-as "the bimbo." The squabbling Benedict clan consisted of Vicky ( Martha Gehman), age 32, a twice-divorced athiest who had returned to college to get a Ph.D in microbiology; Diana ( Kari Lizer), age 30, an often incomprehensible airhead who had tried every fad religion and was still trying to find herself; Kenneth ( Patrick Breen), age 25, a real estate salesman and aspiring yuppie forever on the lookout for ways to make a quick killing; Martha ( Marian Mercer), Ben's conservative sister who ran his household; and Rachel ( Sheri Appleby), Vicky's younger daughter. TT, who deeply loved Ben was a spiritual woman who talked regularly to God-addressing the deity as "chief"-when trying to sort out her emotions or find ways to deal with problems she was having with Ben's family.
This series was semi-autobiographical for producer Norman Lear, whose third wife was considerably younger than he; it also marked Lear's return to series television after an absence of many years. In an effort to attract an audience, CBS paired Sunday Dinner with selected reruns of his classic All in the Family on Sunday evenings. Unfortunately the reruns did better than the new series.
An Article from The New York Times
TELEVISION; Is TV Ready for Norman Lear? Was It Ever?
By LARRY ROHTER
Published: May 26, 1991
He was the king of the sitcom when he walked away from prime time in 1978. Now Norman Lear is returning to television with the first of four series he has in the works, hoping there is still a place on the tube for his distinctive blend of humor and social commentary, and intent on letting America know what's been on his mind.
Exactly 20 years have passed since Mr. Lear's "All in the Family" introduced Archie Bunker to American viewers, proving that prime-time comedy could explore subjects like bigotry, sexism, politics, menopause and impotence and opening the door for series like "Roseanne" and "Married . . . With Children."
But "Sunday Dinner," which will have its premiere next Sunday on CBS, has a new twist. In it Mr. Lear tackles what he views as the last frontier in television: spirituality.
"The one thing that hasn't been discussed a lot in entertainment television are the What's-It-All-About-Alfie questions," he said one recent afternoon during a break from the rehearsals and meetings that once again dominate his working hours. "With all these thousands of hours and half hours, nobody's really talked much about God and faith and the inner life. 'Sunday Dinner' intends to evoke that conversation."
In the Lear tradition, the conversation has already started, and it is reminiscent of the shouting matches on "All in the Family," with the Rev. Donald E. Wildmon and his American Family Association firing salvos at the program and more progressive theologians rushing to its defense.
In the wings are two more offbeat situation comedies that, like "Sunday Dinner," revolve around family life. In "Love Child," a patrician New England senator, played by John Forsythe, discovers that he has an illegitimate 46-year-old daughter; "Ball$," set in the 1890's, will focus on the shenanigans within a wealthy Manhattan clan that owns a sporting-goods company. The fourth series is a variety program for children to be called "The 8 O'Clock Show," for which NBC has ordered a pilot. None of these is yet assured of a prime-time slot, but a pilot for "Love Child" has already been shot. And there are others on the drawing board.
At his peak in the mid-1970's, he and his associates had up to seven hit sitcoms on the air at a time, ranging from "All in the Family" and its spinoffs "Maude" and "The Jeffersons" to "Sanford and Son" (which, like "All in the Family" was based on a successful British series) and "Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman."
This time out, he says his goals are more modest, at least initially. "It's not that I want to dive back in or come back big," he said. "There is no master plan or grand design, just certain subjects that I care about. I'm doing 'Sunday Dinner' because I love the idea and want to see it work, and I think the other two are tremendous opportunities to deal with the same subjects."
"Sunday Dinner" focuses on Ben Benedict, a 56-year-old widower who runs a printing business and is worried about how his three grown children will cope with his impending marriage to T. T. Fagori, a 30-year-old environmental attorney with a lot of vague, eclectic notions about spirituality. The Fagori character, played by Teri Hatcher, likes to talk to God, whom she refers to as "Chief." Her spouse-to-be is portrayed by Robert Loggia, and his children are a skeptical microbiologist, a fad-minded designer and a Reagan-era yuppie who worships only wealth and power. "The idea is to get as many attitudes about religion as we can," Mr. Lear said.
The parallels between "Sunday Dinner" and Mr. Lear's own life are obvious. During his dozen years away from television, Mr. Lear, who is 68 years old and the father of three grown daughters, divorced his wife, Frances (who used some of the money from her settlement to launch the women's magazine Lear's) and married Lyn Davis, a psychologist. Ms. Davis is 25 years younger than he; the couple have a 3-year-old son.
"The framework of 'Sunday Dinner' comes directly out of my own experience," Mr. Lear readily acknowledged. "I've always scraped the barrel of my own experience to write about, whether it's what I'm reading, what I'm feeling or what my kids or wife are experiencing. In this case, I remarried, to a younger woman with enormous spirituality, who has a doctorate in religion and philosophy, who was raised in a church-going fundamentalist family but has gone another way."
As for Mr. Lear's own religious beliefs, "someone else would have to describe me," he said. Raised a Jew during a childhood spent in Connecticut and New York, he keeps a copy of the Chinese philosopher Lao-tze's "Tao Te Ching" in his office. He bought the rights to "Dream of the Earth," by a Passionist priest named Thomas Berry, after reading the book and concluding that its pantheistic creed was something both he and T. T. Fagori could accept. He goes to temple "now and again," he said, "but not as a matter of ritual. I don't support a particular church, or synagogue in my case, and I think one's relationship with a higher being or a higher meaning, two terms that are interchangeable with me, is terribly personal. It comes out of one's personal history and sense of devotion, not from edifices and raiments."
When Mr. Lear stepped away from producing network series in 1978, it was largely, he said, because he felt he had fallen into a comfortable rut and had a yearning to undertake something new. "I'm somebody who gets restless," he said. "It seems to me that every 7 or 10 years in my life I want to stretch in another direction." Originally, his plans were simply to return to making movies, which he had done with some success in the 60's, with, among other films, "Come Blow Your Horn," which he adapted from a Neil Simon play and produced, and "Divorce American Style," which he wrote and produced. His company, Act III Communications (started in 1985 and named for what he regards as the third act of his life), has produced a pair of hit movies: "Stand by Me" and "The Princess Bride," both directed by Rob Reiner, the former "meathead" Michael Stivic of "All in the Family."
But much of his energy throughout the 1980's was directed to politics. Alarmed at the rise of television evangelists like Jerry Falwell, Jimmy Swaggart and Pat Robertson, he organized People for the American Way, the liberal advocacy group that helped defeat the Supreme Court nomination of Robert Bork and has been critical of the religious right. More recently, Mr. Lear has helped found and finance the Business Enterprise Trust, an organization that attempts to focus attention on "acts of courage, integrity and social vision in business," and the Environmental Media Association, whose aim is to encourage ecological consciousness through movies and television.
Along the way, Mr. Lear became a very wealthy man and a media magnate. Thanks to the hunger of the television rerun market, he and his partner were able to sell their entertainment company for a reported $485 million in 1985. Forbes magazine listed him as one of America's 400 richest men a year later, estimating his personal fortune at $225 million, but Mr. Lear's Act III Communications has more recently experienced some rough sailing. Though the ownership of eight television stations affiliated with the Fox network and 437 movie theaters has proven a sound investment, Mr. Lear last year shut down the company's magazine division. Embittered former employees have since suggested that Mr. Lear is a hypocrite, preaching compassion and humanism while practicing the same bottom-line philosophy he decries in others.
"It's not so," he said evenly. "We closed a money-losing publishing company as decorously, generously, sweetly and nicely as we could." His response to accusations that he enjoys a lavish life style at odds with his beliefs, criticisms that stem mostly from his construction of a $15 million mansion here and his passion for collecting fine art, is also direct. "I never claimed to be Mother Teresa, only Norman Lear," he replied.
Mr. Lear's wealth and activism have made him one of Hollywood's most prominent liberals and an important liaison between the entertainment industry and the Democratic Party. Over the years, he has held dinners and fund-raisers at his home to introduce candidates like Michael Dukakis to Hollywood, though he said he envisions no such role for himself in next year's Presidential race. "No, I see myself getting deeply involved in the campaign of William Hamilton, who I suspect is thinking even now about announcing," he said, referring to the senator who is the protagonist of "Love Child."
The world of network television to which Mr. Lear returns is both meaner and dumber than what he knew in his heyday. Ratings have been dropping steadily for nearly a decade, as viewers flee to alternatives like cable or film videocassettes, and the four networks have responded with programs that seem ever more violent and salacious. Mr. Lear argues, however, that the collapse of the established order has also created an opening for the type of funny but uplifting television he prefers.
"There's a little bit more freedom to compete, a little more excessively perhaps," he said. "Maybe that's why I am enjoying the freedom to appeal to something else. Maybe I couldn't have gotten arrested with this idea 10 years ago. Let's put a good face on it, and say it's a reflection of their desire to be different, to innovate."
Despite Mr. Lear's track record, CBS, the network for which he made his biggest hits, is hedging its bets and waiting to see how the first six episodes of "Sunday Dinner" fare before guaranteeing the series a spot in its prime-time lineup for next season. The program is already the target of a campaign organized by Mr. Wildmon to try to keep the show off the air, who argues that Mr. Lear intends to use the program to "promote his New Age/ Secular Humanist religion" and denigrate Christians who uphold traditional values.
With so much at stake, Mr. Lear has adopted a notably hands-on approach to all three prime-time series. He ended up as the director as well as the producer of the pilot episode of "Love Child," doing his best to sharpen the humor and cut some flaws of logic. At the taping of the pilot (which was attended by the CBS president, Jeff Sagansky, and the head of Columbia Pictures Television, Gary Lieberthal), the audience laughed at all the right places, including a scene in which the befuddled Senator Hamilton and his scheming wife show a marked resemblance to Ronald and Nancy Reagan. Afterward, as a relaxed and obviously pleased Mr. Lear acknowledged applause and prepared to introduce the cast, a tape began to play "Happy Days Are Here Again."
"Don't start the music," he said. "I'm not finished yet."
An Article from the LA Times
Religion on the Menu in Lear's 'Sunday Dinner' : Television: New sitcom from the creator of 'All in the Family' doesn't have a prayer against a landmark Archie Bunker rerun.
May 31, 1991|HOWARD ROSENBERG
It's Sunday. Ben Benedict, a 56-year-old widower, has brought his 30-year-old fiancee, TT, home to meet his three grown children, sister and granddaughter.
Only they don't know she's his fiancee. And he doesn't know that she's such a devout Christian that she regularly prays in private, addressing God as "Her" or "Him" or, on this day, "Chief."
"Chief, you gotta minute?" she begins, praying that Ben's family will like her. "He doesn't know that I talk to you, and he's not ready to hear it, either."
The bigger question is whether America is ready to hear religion from Norman Lear, whose new CBS comedy "Sunday Dinner" premieres at 8 p.m. Sunday on Channels 2 and 8, marking his return to television after a seven-year absence.
The Rev. Donald Wildmon isn't ready. Wildmon is the influential religious conservative who has used his American Family Assn. to crusade aggressively against what he defines as "anti-Christian" TV programming and other allegedly unwholesome areas of the arts.
Disagreeing with other clerical reviewers, Wildmon has already publicly lambasted "Sunday Dinner"--typically, without seeing it.
There are two items to ponder on the "Sunday Dinner" menu: Besides the religious entree, there's the comedy. Just as the primary purpose of Lear's signature, ground-breaking work, "All in the Family," was humor, not social comment, so is the primary aim of "Sunday Dinner" to spoon out laughter, not to debate religion.
On Sunday, it does little of either.
One by one, the characters arrive for the family's weekly dinner. In addition to growly Ben (Robert Loggia) and guileless TT (Teri Hatcher), there are Ben's militantly atheist older daughter, Vicky (Martha Gehman); his faddish daughter, Diana (Kari Lizer), and his shysterish son, Kenneth (Patrick Breen). Plus we get Ben's granddaughter, Rachel (Shiri Appleby), and sister, Martha (Marian Mercer), herself a deeply religious woman whose attempts to say grace at the dinner table are drowned out by the family's jabbering.
Ben's daughters react badly to his engagement to someone they regard as a "bimbo," and when TT uses such terms as "cosmic piety" to describe her beliefs, she's regarded as some sort of UFO.
The comedy is played broadly, with Lear's intended boffo ending badly telegraphed. A more fundamental problem, though, is that from start to finish, his script is simply not very funny.
Especially when measuring new Lear against old Lear.
As it happens, "Sunday Dinner" has one of the CBS time slots once occupied by Lear's cosmic comedy "All in the Family" and, in fact, is being followed during its six-week run by episodes of the older series, starting with the hilarious 1971 pilot, which found Archie and Edith Bunker (Carroll O'Connor and Jean Stapleton) arriving home after church and interrupting Mike and Gloria (Rob Reiner and Sally Struthers), who are upstairs in a sexual situation.
Ironically, it was this little bit of benign sexual business--not the ugly racial epithets uttered by the red-neck Archie--that panicked CBS into almost replacing the "Meet the Bunkers" episode with a milder one when the bigotry-slamming series premiered more than 20 years ago.
The pairing of these two Lear series from different generations benefits viewers, reminding us just how funny, well-written and artfully acted "All in the Family" was, and also that today's TV mostly muffles such brainy, visionary comedy just as surely as Archie always sought to muffle Edith.
The linkage hardly benefits "Sunday Dinner," though. Despite the presence of Loggia and that grand farceur Mercer, it seems almost anorexic beside "All in the Family," much of which is as funny today as yesterday, if less outrageous. In fact, one can envision "All in the Family" reruns finding an entirely new large audience in prime time.
If the comedy of "Sunday Dinner" is only hazily defined in the premiere, so, too, is its religious message.
Long a target of the religious right, producer-writer Lear was quoted in Newsweek recently as saying that the subtext of "Sunday Dinner" will be the "hunger in America resulting from our neglect of the spirit."
One can't blame Wildmon for being skeptical, however. A recent rerun of Lear's old series "The Jeffersons," for example, was brutal and mean-spirited in its ridiculing of a "born-again" preacher.
So, too, is there merit in the "anti-Christian" charge that Wildmon makes against all of TV.
There are some exceptions, one of the most recent being an episode of Gary Goldberg's since-canceled "American Dreamer" series on NBC in which the protagonist, played by Robert Urich, was inspired by a female Episcopal priest to consider returning to his own religion. ABC's "thirtysomething" also did several episodes exploring the religious roots of some of its characters.
In the main, however, prime time has done to religion what dogs do to fire plugs, pouring on the ridicule, its prejudice nourished in recent times by the debacles of fallen preachers Jim Bakker and Jimmy Swaggart.
"Writers bring their religious baggage along with their other baggage," observed Elizabeth Thoman, a nun who heads the Center for Media and Values in Los Angeles. "A lot of what we're seeing on TV is pent-up frustration from people who have not worked out their own spiritual journey.
" 'All in the Family' dealt with racism and family relations," Thoman added. "What we have never dealt with (on TV) are spiritual issues, because those are the hardest to talk about. When we do, we connect on a very deep level."
Perhaps "Sunday Dinner" will do that. And while one can't blame Wildmon for raising an eyebrow, just as Archie Bunker used to get that silly expression on his face when he was suspicious, he can be blamed for attacking "Sunday Dinner" and Lear's "new theology" sight unseen.
Based on the "Sunday Dinner" premiere, it appears that religious skeptics are the narrow-minded Archies in Lear's new realm, with TT representing a greater truth. Maybe.
In any event, one of Archie's pet expressions applies to the Wildmons of the world who loudly protest what they haven't even seen.
An Article from Time Magazine
God Comes to Dinner
Monday, Jun. 03, 1991
By RICHARD ZOGLIN
A 56-year-old widower (Robert Loggia) comes home from vacation with a surprise for his three grown children: a 30-year-old fiance. Since this is TV sitcomland, the May-September romance sends his kids into a wisecracking snit. Before dinner one evening, their barbs get so harsh that the fiance, known as TT, scurries into the hallway, casts her eyes skyward and asks for help: "Chief -- Code Blue, Code Blue! I knew they'd be upset, but this is ridiculous."
And whom, pray tell, is she talking to? There's no easy way to put this. It's God. Sunday Dinner, a new CBS series from TV trailblazer Norman Lear (All in the Family, Maude), bills itself as the first sitcom to deal explicitly with religious faith. Lear says the series, his first in seven years, reflects a turn toward spiritual values in his own life. It also marks TV's effort to jump on Hollywood's spirituality bandwagon.
Much of Sunday Dinner, to be sure, goes for familiar secular laughs. Loggia and his fiance make jokes about their age difference; the kids pester Dad with nutty problems; middle-aged friends do double takes at Dad's young bride-to- be. This laugh-track world, however, is interrupted by TT's private chats with the Almighty. "How does anyone wake up on a morning like this and not believe in some version of you?!" she exclaims at the start of one episode. Loggia is wary but tolerant of her chirpy spirituality; the kids are overtly & skeptical. At one family dinner, TT describes her woozy mix of religion and environmentalism ("The natural world is the largest sacred community to which we all belong"). Comments one daughter: "She just turned left at Pluto."
Some conservatives have already objected to Lear's politically correct God. The Rev. Donald Wildmon, the Fundamentalist media watchdog, has attacked CBS for allowing Lear to "promote his New Age/secular humanist religion." (Idle thought: Is Wildmon now on the payroll of liberal TV producers, who use him to attract controversy -- and viewers -- to their shows?) It's hard to imagine many others being offended by the sappy sermonizing. Sunday Dinner doesn't engage the issue of religious faith so much as gawk at it: belief in God has become a character quirk, like having a funny job or being a witch. Lear has made a valiant effort to break one of TV comedy's last remaining taboos. But God has always been a better straight man.
A Review from The New York Times
Review/Television; Norman Lear's Sitcoms, Past and Present, on CBS
By JOHN J. O'CONNOR
Published: June 6, 1991
Norman Lear's past and present are bumping up against each other on CBS these Sunday evenings and the past is winning hands down.
Mr. Lear's new series, being shown at 8, is "Sunday Dinner" and, with autobiographical overtones, it's all about a successful businessman and father who marries a successful professional woman considerably younger than himself. Mr. Lear's old series, at 8:30, is "All in the Family" and it's all about . . . well, no need to go into that. Everybody knows the Bunkers. And despite years of multiple reruns for "All in the Family" in syndication, the episode shown last Sunday on network prime time -- the show's very first episode -- ended up among the week's Top 10 ratings. And that series just gets better.
"Sunday Dinner" doesn't, and it is unlikely to retain the respectable No. 20 showing it notched in the ratings its first time out. Oddly enough for Mr. Lear, one of the shrewdest producers in the business, "Sunday Dinner" adds up to a series of staggering miscalculations. Apparently it is meant to be a somewhat lyrical endorsement of May-September romances, sprinkled with new-age spirituality and environmental concepts of "cosmic piety." What emerges, however, is a decidedly silly and mean-spirited poke at young people.
While the Bunkers live in working-class Queens, the Benedicts reside in upscale Great Neck, L.I. Ben (Robert Loggia) is a 56-year-old widower who returns from an African trip engaged to T. T. (it stands for Thelma Todd) Fagori (Teri Hatcher), an environmental lawyer.
T. T. is a cosmic-piety advocate who periodically raises her eyes heavenward and has a conversation with the Supreme Being, alternately referred to as He, She, It or The Chief. She prays to be a lovable person when preparing to meet Ben's family and offers unending thanks for having been given the gift of Ben. In large part, "Sunday Dinner" is the somewhat pompous fantasy of an aging male, whose gorgeous new mate keeps saying things like, "Who do you thank when you're whole body is feeling so good inside?"
The children are not thrilled with what one of them calls Dad's new fling. But Mr. Lear, who wrote the premiere episode, has his revenge. The "kids" are turned into blithering idiots. Vicki (Martha Gehman), 32, is a rather distraught atheist scientist working for her doctorate and raising a precocious daughter named Rachel (Shiri Appleby); Diana (Kari Lizer), 30, is moving back home after leaving her husband and taking his bird cage, sans bird, and Kenneth (Patrick Breen), 25, is a hyperkinetic buffoon constantly pushing harebrained get-rich schemes. Puttering around in the kitchen, and muttering about how her church is empty nowadays, is resigned Aunt Martha; it is a role in which the gifted Marian Mercer is thoroughly wasted.
That, then, is the basic situation. T. T. gazes lovingly at Ben, finding his every little quirk adorable and absolutely melting over a gloppy little poem he wrote in childhood ("You ain't got no heart at all, almost hardly"). And the children are predictably ridiculous. Finding out that T. T. is 30, Diana shrieks at Dad: "That's my age! How could you want her when you have me?" This Sunday's episode features a fabulously successful businessman whose obnoxiousness ("What is it you do, little lady?") makes the Benedict children look almost sweet. That's one way of solving a problem, but the overall abrasiveness is nearly unbearable.
Meanwhile, back with the Bunkers in the early 1970's, Archie, played brilliantly by Carroll O'Connor, is positioning himself securely to take on the role of lovable bigot. He's already grumping about all races and religions different from his own, all the while berating his "meathead" son-in-law (Rob Reiner), looking askance at the hot pants of his daughter, Gloria (Sally Struthers), and warning the dizzily wonderful Edith (Jean Stapleton) to "stifle." Dragged to Sunday church services for the fourth time in 22 years, Archie dismisses the sermon as "Socialist propaganda."
Early on in "All in the Family," it is obvious that Archie will, more often than not, be the butt of the jokes, his ignorance and parochialism serving as the vehicle to convey Mr. Lear's essentially liberal agenda. The concept was inspired, the execution superb.
Archie Bunker is firmly ensconced in pop-culture mythology. In fact, he might singlehandedly trigger a revival of "best of television" reruns on prime time television. Network executives are already rushing back to the drawing boards. As for Ben Benedict, however, Mr. Lear might well ponder the character's early and merciful retirement.
Here's Robert Logia's Obituary from Variety
December 4, 2015 2:15PM PT
Oscar-Nominated Actor Robert Loggia Dies at 85
By Dave McNary
Robert Loggia, a durable and versatile tough guy actor in movies and TV shows including Brian De Palma’s 1983 drama “Scarface” and “Big,” died Friday at his home in Los Angeles, his widow Audrey confirmed to Variety. He was 85.
Loggia had been battling Alzheimer’s Disease for the past five years, according to his widow. They had been married for 33 years.
He was nominated for a supporting actor Academy Award for “Jagged Edge” in 1986 for his portrayal of blunt private detective Sam Ransom.
Loggia’s most notable film credits included “An Officer and a Gentleman,” “Prizzi’s Honor,” “Independence Day,” David Lynch’s “Lost Highway” and “Big,” in which he played a toy company owner and performed a memorable duet on a giant foot-operated piano with Tom Hanks. He played Miami drug lord Frank Lopez in “Scarface.”
Loggia was nominated for an Emmy in 1989 for his portrayal of FBI agent Nick Mancuso in the series “Mancuso FBI” — which has a spin-off of the character he created in the “Favorite Son” miniseries starring Harry Hamlin — and again in 2000 for his guest star role in “Malcolm in the Middle.”
Loggia was a versatile supporting actor, assembling credits on three different episodes of “The Rockford Files” as three different characters. He also appeared in three different “Pink Panther” movies with three different character names.
Loggia played Anwar Sadat in the 1982 TV movie “A Woman Called Golda” opposite Ingrid Bergman. He also portrayed fearsome mobster-bakery owner Feech La Manna on several episodes of “The Sopranos.”
Loggia was a native of Staten Island, born to Italian immigrants. He received a football scholarship to Wagner College and transferred to the University of Missouri. After serving two years in the U.S. Army, he began classes with Stella Adler and at the Actors Studio.
“He loved being an actor,” his widow told Variety. “He used to say that he never had to work. He never had to wait tables.”
“I loved Bob like a father,” Lionsgate Vice Chairman Michael Burns told Variety. “I will miss him tremendously.”
He broke into the entertainment business performing in stage plays in New York. His first film credit came in 1957 in the noirish “The Garment Jungle.” His first TV credits came in 1958 in “The Nine Lives of Elfego Baca” in a series of Walt Disney TV shows. He starred in the 1966-67 series “T.H.E. Cat” as a former circus aerialist and cat burglar turned professional bodyguard who would introduce himself as “T. Hewitt Edward Cat.”
Loggia’s TV credits included “The Untouchables,” “Columbo,” “Gunsmoke,” “Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea,” “The Big Valley,” “Rawhide,” “Little House on the Prairie,” “Starsky and Hutch,” “Charlie’s Angels,” “Magnum, P.I.,” “Kojak,” “Hawaii Five-0,” “The Bionic Woman,” “Frasier” and “Monk.”
His other film roles include “Revenge of the Pink Panther,” “Trail of the Pink Panther,” “Curse of the Pink Panther,” “Over The Top,” “Necessary Roughness,” “Return to Me” and “Armed and Dangerous.”
Loggia is survived by his widow and four children, Tracy, John, Kristina and Cynthia.
His family has asked that donations be made to the Motion Picture and Television Fund. Loggia was an active supporter of the fund.
Funeral services will be private
For more on Sunday Dinner go to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sunday_Dinner_(TV_series)
For a Website dedicated to Teri Hatcher go to http://www.terihatcher.net/
For some Sunday Dinner-related interview videos at the Archive of American Television go to https://interviews.televisionacademy.com/shows/sunday-dinner
To watch a CBS Promo go to https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tZenAKy4bT4
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Keywords: The Cast of Sunday Dinner