By Heather
Havrilesky | Salon.com
Because its stories
and cast make it one of the
best, and funniest, sitcoms on
TV. Creator Phil Rosenthal
talks about the success of his
show as it nears its final
season.
"Everybody Loves
Raymond" (Mondays at 9
p.m. on CBS) is one of those
shows you pass for years on
your way to some other channel.
Oh, here's that grouchy family
show, you think. Ray Romano.
Annoyed wife. Overbearing
mother. Loser brother. Sure, it
seems mildly amusing, but ...
What else is on?
Then one day, while you're
waiting for your spaghetti to
boil or your laundry to dry,
you sit down and watch an
entire episode. After the
second or third time you've
laughed out loud, it occurs to
you that this show is different
from the others. Not only is
"Everybody Loves
Raymond" much more
entertaining and weird than the
current batch of family sitcoms
on the air, it's a hell of a
lot funnier. Like a strange mix
of "The Cosby Show,"
"All in the Family"
and "Seinfeld," it
unflinchingly exposes its
characters' worst impulses
without veering too far from
familiar territory.
And while most sitcoms are
packed to the brim with shtick
that doesn't suit the
characters, punch lines that
interrupt the action, and
ridiculous situations that are
as unbelievable as they are
uninteresting, "Everybody
Loves Raymond" is grounded
in interesting, human stories
and incredibly funny but
realistic dialogue. When Ray
avoids confronting Debra about
her PMS, or Robert tries to win
over Amy's incredibly square
parents, the laughs are organic
and don't require exaggeration.
Even the kids act like real
kids, instead of bouncing in
and out,
"Full-House"-style,
wisecracking and making cute
remarks.
More than anything,
"Everybody Loves
Raymond" is an exploration
of the daily trials and
tribulations of marriage. The
writers expose the ugly
underbelly of family life to
the harsh light of day, and
everyone ends up with a
sunburn. Ray and Debra are
alternately bitter, annoyed,
apathetic or simply resigned to
tolerating each other,
reflecting the constant
struggles of accepting a
spouse's quirks and
limitations.
But what would the show's
writers have to say to those
idealistic singles who might
find such cynicism off-putting?
One glimpse of a response is
offered when Robert's fiancée,
Amy, delivers a rousing speech
to Ray, Debra and Ray's parents
on the joys of wedlock:
"Robert and I are getting
married, and I want us to be
honest and trusting, and I hope
those feelings will only get
stronger the longer that we're
together." The couple
exits, and after a stunned
silence, Ray says,
"Wow." Debra turns to
him and says nostalgically,
"Yeah. Remember when we
were that stupid?"
Phil Rosenthal, the amiable
creator of "Everybody
Loves Raymond," talked to
Salon recently about his show's
success as it nears its final
season, waxing philosophical on
the pursuit of the "hip
and edgy" demographic, the
joys of Bruce Springsteen, and
the overwhelming importance of
lunch.
"Everybody Loves
Raymond" is so different
from the empty slapstick of
most of the sitcoms that are on
TV right now. How do you do it?
It's what we call a
character-driven sitcom as
opposed to a joke-driven
sitcom. When we first started
in 1996, "Seinfeld"
was still on, and "Seinfeld"
was a great show. And I always
say the only thing that was
wrong with "Seinfeld"
were all the shows that tried
to imitate it. What they
thought they were doing were
shows about nothing. That's
what they had to imitate: shows
about nothing. Shows that
talked about comical issues and
were very jokey and
superficial, and they were all
trying to do younger versions
of "Seinfeld." What
you wind up with is a Xerox of
a Xerox.
I couldn't have done one of
those kinds of shows if I
wanted to. The shows I grew up
with were "The
Honeymooners" and
"All in the Family,"
"The Mary Tyler Moore
Show" and
"Taxi." They were all
character-based sitcoms, where
the humor comes from character,
and the story comes from
character and there is a story.
You could argue that "Seinfeld"
is somewhat character-driven.
It's a show about nothing, but
certain characters do certain
kinds of nothing.
Right. Originally, one of the
notes I got from one of the
studio people was: "I
don't understand the type of
show you're trying to do
here." I said, "I'll
tell you. We're trying to do a
traditional, well-made, classic
sitcom." And he said,
"All words we should be
avoiding." And I said,
"And what words should we
be going for?" and he
said, "Hip and edgy."
And I said, "Listen, you
got the right guy, because I am
hip and edgy."
Hip and edgy, meaning
superficial and irritating.
I guess to you and me, but
people in the studios are going
for young "demos."
It's a silly thing; I don't
understand it. You try to do a
show for you, and you hope that
other people have your
sensibility. If you try to hit
some idea of what an
18-year-old likes, I think
you're in trouble.
Plus, the thing that stands
out about "Everybody Loves
Raymond" is that it feels
like an honest reflection of
real lives. It doesn't feel
like an absurd, imagined thing.
Thank you. We have a couple of
rules on the show. Probably the
main rule is, "Could this
happen?" You want to
stretch credibility as far as
you can without destroying the
reality or the thing that
people relate to when they
watch the show. You want to
take it to the edge but you
don't want to go over that
edge. Otherwise you wind up
with so many shows that I don't
need to mention. Silly shit
happens, and then they have to
top themselves because that's
all they have.
As they exhaust their
stories, it's easy to evolve in
the direction of the unreal.
Like on "The Simpsons"
-- the characters start acting
out of character. Homer goes
from sitting on the couch
drinking beer to scheming to
rule the universe.
I love "The Simpsons."
I always have, and it's more
realistic than most of the
other sitcoms on television.
It used to be amazing, but
it seems like it's tough to
keep characters and situations
from spiraling into craziness
out of desperation.
Right. Well, certainly it's
hard to come up with stories.
You want to maintain some level
of reality so the people who
watch the show for a certain
reason -- and we think it's
because they relate to what's
happening -- will have a reason
to watch.
It also seems like the jokes
on "Everybody Loves
Raymond" don't interrupt
the flow of action.
Right. If they do, we take them
out. We work on the jokes last.
Really?
Yeah, it's never centered
around them. We come up with
the situation that's the most
interesting to us, typically
something that happened to one
of us. I'd say 90 percent of
what you see on that show
happened to me, or to Ray, or
to one of the other writers.
And we take it from there,
until the characters start to
have their own lives. We're
also not afraid of dramatic
moments. Not dramatic episodes,
where the whole episode is
suddenly a Very Special
Episode. We don't want to do
that. But, dramatic moments
we're not afraid of, because
they actually help things.
Did you integrate drama into
the show from the beginning?
Yeah. I truly believe dramatic
moments help to strengthen the
characters, and then make it
funnier when that character
does something. Like on
"The Honeymooners," I
remember one where Norton got
hurt after a fight with Ralph.
Norton is the funniest
character ever on television,
all he ever did was make you
laugh, and if he's hurt, oh, my
God! Your heart breaks for him.
And then you see how it affects
Ralph, and he rushes to the
hospital to get a transfusion,
and of course, Norton is fine,
but Ralph has to give the
transfusion anyway now. So you
just laugh harder because
suddenly, they're more real as
people. And you laugh more
because it's a heartier laugh,
it's not a surface laugh. We
believe them as human beings.
Listen, how many chances do you
get to have your own TV show,
right? Something that succeeds
in the short term -- just make'
em laugh at every second, you
gotta have 10 laughs per page
or they're gonna turn the
channel -- or you can try to
make something that might have
lasting value.
Can you imagine writing
about anything else?
Yeah, sure. There are other
aspects of my life, different
jobs I've had. But I don't
think that I'll ever have this
opportunity again where I'm
actually writing about my own
family: My wife and my kids and
my parents. I'll never have
this again. That's why I'm
savoring the show. And now, we
are a family, the people who
make the show. Most of the
writers have been here from the
beginning.
The sets of so many sitcoms
are reported to be wildly
dysfunctional, but your show is
rumored to have one of the
friendliest working
environments in TV.
I think that's the food. The
name of my production company
is Where's Lunch? That's the
writers' main preoccupation. So
the food has to be very good,
because when you're in the room
all day, the only sunshine that
comes in is the menu.
So has everybody gained
about 10 pounds per season?
Yeah, now we're trying to lose
it. Now we all have our little
diets and stuff. We're a very
happy group, and we do things
together outside of work, I
think that's important.
Yesterday we all went to the
Laker game, and we go out for
lunch a lot. We have a great
time. We understand how rare
this is. Nothing is taken for
granted. We're living in the
moment and enjoying it. I hope
it comes through in the show. I
hope a spirit of fun is
underneath all the apparent
discord.
Definitely. I think one
interesting thing about the
show is that you push the
boundaries of likability for
each character, yet they all
still remain likable.
Likability is a funny word. The
network always wants the
characters to be likable, to
which I say, "Who in your
family do you really
like?" To me, people are
likable if they make me laugh.
I just saw the episode last
night where Marie buys the
family a trip to Italy and Ray
doesn't want to go. He says,
"I'm not really interested
in other cultures."
Oh, the one where they went to
Italy!
Yeah, it's a great episode.
Thank you very much. Can I tell
you something? Ray actually
said that. I asked him what he
was doing on hiatus. He said,
"I'm going to the Jersey
shore." I said, "Why
don't you go to Europe?"
He said, "I don't
know." I said, "Why
don't you go to Italy? Have you
ever been?" He said no. I
said, "You're Italian!
You've never been to
Italy?" "Nah." I
said, "Why not?" He
goes, "I'm not really
interested in other
cultures." Even his own!
Even his own culture!
So, I said, well, we're doing
that show. That was the season
opener of Season 5.
I couldn't believe it when
they were actually in Italy --
you're not sure at first
because it looks like a sound
stage, and then the shot opens
up.
Oh, it was so beautiful there.
And what a scam we pulled! I
said, "I think we have to
go! I think we have to go, and
I think I have to go a month
before to scout
locations."
Nice work!
It was one of the highlights of
my life! To combine the things
that I love: Italy, the food in
Italy, and the show that I
love.
So how many more seasons do
you have left in you?
I honestly think next year is
the last season. For no other
reason than I think it will
have been enough.
Really? It doesn't seem like
the show is suffering at all.
You're not in the room with us.
It gets harder and harder. You
look at the board, you know,
the board where we have every
show we've done, over 175
shows, right? When someone's
pitching a story, and you say,
"I think it was number 47
... We did that."
It's very hard. And you don't
want to repeat, you don't want
to get stale. The only thing
this show ever had going for it
was the quality of the writing
and the acting. It's not about
the beautiful people. Although
I do think Patricia Heaton is
beautiful and Ray is cute. But
we're not "Friends,"
it's not about hairstyle. So
all we have is this kind of
writing and acting.
I try to tell people I'm trying
to be the Bruce Springsteen of
sitcoms. You know, when you go
to a Bruce Springsteen concert,
best time you've ever had, most
fun you ever had, and yet you
leave with something. It might
be an emotional moment or
something powerful happening,
but you're left with something,
there's some thought behind it,
not just rock 'n' roll, or in
our case, just laughs.
Something that stays with you.
And it's because we're here for
a short time, not just life,
but our sitcom life. We have a
chance to make our mark, right?
So why not make that count?
That's what I learned from
Bruce Springsteen, from
watching him.
You manage to set the bar
high consistently, probably for
that reason.
Exactly. You have to thank God
to be having so much fun. I
can't tell you how many people
don't think that way. They
think, I'll just grab the money
while I can.
The money is so astronomical
it clouds people's motivations.
The best advice I ever got from
an old show-runner was, do the
show you want to do, because in
the end they're gonna cancel
you anyway. 