Julie Cooper [played by Mackenzie Phillips]: “Barbara, do you spell 'faithful' with one 'L' or two 'Ls'?”
Barbara Cooper
[played by Valerie Bertinelli]: “I think it's one 'L'.”
Dwayne F. Schneider
[played by Pat Harrington Jr.]: “It's two 'Ls'.”
Julie: “Two? That
doesn't sound right. Are you sure?”
Schneider:
“'Course I'm sure. It's one of the basic rules of grammar. Whenever the 'F'
precedes a vowel, it's always two 'Ls', except after 'C', unless it's used in
conjunction with a pronoun. Whaddaya think, I forget these things?”
Julie [looking it up]:
“Schneider, 'faithful' - one 'L'.”
Schneider:
“When was that dictionary printed?”
Julie: “1974.”
Schneider:
“Well, there's your answer! It's outdated. It's an old dictionary.”
Barbara: “What has that
got to do with it?”
Schneider:
“Well, it's just like automobiles. If they don't change the way words are
spelled every couple'a years, how they gonna sell new dictionaries? Come on!”—
One
Day at a Time, Season 2, Episode 20, “The Butterfields,” original air date Feb. 22, 1977, teleplay by Norman Paul and
Jack Elinson, directed by Herbert Kenwith
My Irish father and I didn’t always share the same cultural
tastes (Lawrence Welk vs. Bruce Springsteen was a rather big divide), but about
one matter we absolutely agreed: Dwayne Schneider, the cocky building custodian
of Norman Lear’s 1970s sitcom One Day at a Time, was a hoot and a half
whose mere appearance was enough to make us guffaw at will.
Maybe it was a shared Celtic thing among us and the
actor who embodied the character. Pat Harrington Jr., who played
Schneider throughout the nine-season run of the series, was the son of a
song-and-dance man who was part of a circle of Irish-American entertainers that
also included Bing Crosby, Pat O’Brien and James Dunn.
Pat Jr. must have inherited at least of his father’s
body awareness. At least I’ve come to believe so, thinking again on how, as
Schneider, he would swagger into the apartment of single mom Ann Romano and her
two daughters, jangling his tool belt and letting his cigarette pack poke out
from his T-shirt, practically winking with a Neanderthal come-on.
“The ladies in this building don’t call me ‘super’ for
nothing,” Schneider announced early on. The joke was on him, of course—nobody
fell for the act, anymore than they would for that thin moustache he felt was
so appealing.
I have never gotten around to seeing the recent cable
reboot of the series. Nevertheless, I find it hard to believe, as Jen Chaney
claimed in a 2017 New York Magazine article, that the new
incarnation of Schneider was superior to Harrington’s. Only in a
hyper-politically correct time could anyone fail to realize the insecurity (including,
in the above quote, the patriarchal need to be an Authority On Everything) behind the
painfully thin macho membrane of Schneider.
Harrington’s skill in milking laughs—even as he let
you see the anxious character beneath—accounted for why Lear came to regard him
as “the comic strength of the show”; why the sitcom’s writers relied on that gift
to make the series’ lessons on feminism and sexism sound less overtly preachy; and
why the actor won a Golden Glove and Emmy for his performance in the role.
Pat Harrington Jr. died five years ago today at age 86
of Alzheimer’s Disease, leaving more than a few viewers—including a father and
son in New Jersey—smiling at his memory.
No comments:
Post a Comment