Lily
Munster [played
by Yvonne De Carlo]: “Herman's practicing to be a child.”
Grandpa
[played by Al
Lewis]: “Practicing? That's like Brigitte Bardot practicing to be a girl.”—
The Munsters, Season 2, Episode 27, “Eddie's
Brother,” original air date Mar. 24, 1966, teleplay by Dick Conway, Allan
Burns, and Chris Hayward, directed by Ezra Stone
As a
tween, I often watched the two seasons of The Munsters, and after all of
that how many lines do you think I can recall? Only this set.
Part of
the reason, I surmised while researching this blog post, was that this episode
was the one with lines used for commercials promoting the horror sitcom in
syndicated reruns in the early Seventies. Never underestimate the power of
repetition on impressionable young minds!
And never
underestimate the impression made by a pretty female face and figure on males
of any age.
When The
Munsters first aired this episode, French actress Brigitte Bardot,
who died this weekend at age 91, had already been an international star for a
decade, ever since her appearance in …And God Created Woman. That film’s
popularity was assured as soon as it was banned in several states and condemned
by the Catholic Legion of Decency for its depiction of a free-spirited,
“liberated” woman.
Only two
years before Grandpa drew his extremely unlikely comparison of his big,
awkward, ugly son-in-law Herman to the modestly sized, mambo-dancing, comely
actress, Bardot had herself become the subject of a movie: Dear Brigitte,
with James Stewart sputtering in frustration as his math prodigy son develops a crush
on the blond bombshell.
Time Magazine called her “the countess
of come hither,” but the phrase that seems to have first come into heavy use—specifically
about her—was “sex kitten.” The quality evoked by that phrase—innocence and sensuality—came
into play most often in frothy comedies like Viva Maria! (1965), made
with fellow French icon Jeanne Moreau.
That’s the
only one of her movies I ever sat through. More than 50 years later, I don’t
recall being particularly bowled over by it.
Bardot’s
private life (four husbands, four suicide attempts) was as tumultuous as her public
one (support for the far-right group National Front, noisy opposition to the
#MeToo Movement). Her post-retirement activism on behalf of animal rights was,
in the end, more heartfelt and passionate than her pouty screen siren image.
I’m
glad she lived as long as she did, without suffering the premature, youthful
death of another alluring blonde who sprang to fame in the Fifties: Marilyn
Monroe.
