According to the gossip site Radar Online, Roseanne Barr and Sara Gilbert are at each other’s throats.
Ms. Gilbert played Ms. Barr’s daughter Darlene on the 1990s sitcom Roseanne, and spearheaded the recent reboot. Though delayed by two decades, the 10th season of the show debuted to stellar ratings last week: 25 million Americans and 2.2 million Canadians watched the premiere episode, making it a certified hit for ABC in an era of niche viewing and fractured attention spans.
The rumour is that Ms. Gilbert, an executive producer on the show, is tired of Ms. Barr’s “controlling ways”; an “insider” says that the two are sparring over “political dialogue” in the script. While Radar isn’t a terribly reliable source, I personally hope Ms. Gilbert is reconsidering the moral calculations she made in convincing Ms. Barr to reprise her role as a crass but charming working-class mom.
Darlene was an icon of my own grunge-era teen girlhood, and the original Roseanne was groundbreaking for the cultural issues it espoused. In the immediate post-AIDS crisis era, it included gay and lesbian characters who were regular people – they could be the butt of jokes, but only fair ones, and were treated with respect.
The characters’ normal, borderline unfashionable wardrobes were visual relief to those of us who didn’t grow up in brand names. It’s extremely unfair that no equally loving depiction of poor and working-class white people has been as widely viewed since the show ended.
What’s equally unfortunate, though, is that Ms. Gilbert and her laudable co-stars, including the stellar Laurie Metcalf and John Goodman, had only this route to tell stories about lack of health insurance, opioid addiction, returning veterans and surrogate pregnancy to a mainstream audience.
This route has empowered the noxious Ms. Barr, who is currently gaining even greater notoriety for her professed affection for Donald Trump and active pushing of his many lies.
These include everything from bizarre conspiracy theories to the nauseating falsehood that the U.S. President and his cabinet aren’t pushing policies that actively target LGBTQ people and their families. This must be troublesome to Ms. Gilbert, who is a married lesbian with children, and who gave adult Darlene a tween son who enjoys feminine clothing.
Nostalgia TV is huge right now, whether it’s full reboots, such as Will and Grace or the cheeky cameos on Riverdale, in which former teen heartthrobs play the parents of current teen heartthrobs. Netflix is constantly suggesting I wander down memory lane with The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. The draw of familiar faces is understandable, considering the terrifying state of the modern world.
But taking comfort in old, fictional friends is dangerously close to reminiscing about “the good old days,” a phrase Mr. Trump has regularly used to woo his followers (as though legions of women dying from illegal abortions is something to be remembered fondly).
The thing is, the television landscape is now full of really good shows with truly refreshing casts and innovative storylines — such as Atlanta, which is about an economically strapped black father with big dreams or The Good Place, in which people of diverse races (including white people!) act equally goofy.
Yet none of these have attracted the attention of the new Roseanne, which many have been labelled must-see TV for these perilous times. As always, those most at risk of danger are being told to reach out a hand of understanding to people trying to hurt them, who still enjoy the freedom to pick and choose what is worth their attention.
“We missed all the shows about black and Asian families,” quipped Dan on Tuesday night’s episode, after he and Roseanne fall asleep watching TV. To misquote another working-class TV dad, Homer Simpson, it’s not funny, ‘cause it’s true.
In interviews, Ms. Gilbert has said that the show is about the current state of America (and beyond), where political divides are poisoning family relations. I respect that. What’s different between a television dinner table and a real one, though, is the power that her famous pretend mother has to actively spread untruths and hate in a time of real and constant violence.
Teaching people to see each other with compassion is important, but so is stopping the immediate flow of a dangerous toxin. If Ms. Gilbert and Ms. Barr aren’t constantly fighting on set, perhaps they should be.