That mean old Dr. Laura has turned into that dull old Dr. Laura.
The result is a television talk show that sounded like it would
be a hot potato
but plays more like cold pizza.
A moral absolutist who has developed a large following with her
syndicated radio program,
Laura Schlessinger and her "Dr. Laura" show came to TV this week
via the struggling UPN network.
A viewing of the first four shows (the fifth airs today at 1
on Channel 20) finds Dr. Laura somewhat
defanged and declawed yet still obnoxious, bossy and self-righteously
abrasive.
Why would people want to watch this? Perhaps if all other channels
mysteriously went off the air. Even then, the temptation would
be to avoid it.
"Dr. Laura" might be endured but seems unlikely to be enjoyed.
There was not a peep on any of her opening shows about the topic
that has earned Dr. Laura
her most vehement detractors: homosexuality. On her radio show,
she has labeled it "deviant"
behavior comparable to "bestiality" and "pedophilia." As
a hugely predictable result, UPN's decision
to give Dr. Laura a TV platform drew howls of protest from
gay activist and human rights groups.
Apparently Dr. Laura was of the opinion that gay people hadn't
suffered enough bigotry and
ignorance over the years and so she volunteered to offer yet
more.
Suppose there had been no controversy; how would a reasonable
person react to the "Dr. Laura" show?
Probably with drooping eyelids. It's not a distinctive and certainly
not a dynamic addition to the daytime
talk show population. Mostly it's Dr. Laura preaching, hammering
home her dogmatic beliefs, trotting out
people who support her and dismissing or bullying those who don't.
The woman's ego is an entire solar
system unto itself--vast, limitless and appealing to only the
bravest explorers.
"I am very big on parents' responsibilities and parents' rights,"
she declared on her first show.
Earlier that same hour: "I'm very much into 'Our Brothers' Keepers.'
" On her third show she prefaced
advice on gossiping by saying, "This is what I think the right
thing to do is." On the second show,
regarding the delicate matter of whether one spouse can engage
in extramarital sex when the other
spouse is totally incapacitated by illness, Dr. Laura said,
"Now I have something to say about this."
Of course she does! She has something to say about everything.
Not just opinions but pronouncements.
Not insights, but what to her seem inarguable holy truths. On
one program, she preceded her own
statement by deriding the consensus of "so-called experts."
Physician, deride thyself.
ha ha
Dr. Laura is one of those radio stars to whom the camera is not
a friend (although if Larry King could
make the transition, arguably anyone can). Whatever surgical
or cosmetic wonders were employed to
give her a somewhat youthful face failed at about the chin line.
Sometimes she tries to hide her saggy,
baggy wattles with turtlenecks so high they almost reach her
lips, but she still looks, well, creepy.
Her speaking style is strident, she rarely shows compassion, and she is anything but a comforting presence.
She's the anti-Oprah.
And we don't need one of those. At least not if it's going to
materialize in such an off-putting form.
Topics the first week concentrated on home and family, on whether
an Internet romance is really an "affair,"
on whether day care is good or bad (bad, says Dr. Laura), on
how to keep your teens off drugs, and so on.
The teen drug show revealed Dr. Laura at her most unyielding and
rigid. She said she supported the small
town of Lockney, Tex., which requires that every single student
in junior high and high school be tested for
drug use--kids as young as 12. One parent who finds it patently
unconstitutional is suing.
When a member of the studio audience said he would deal with a
drug-taking child by smacking the kid
"upside the head," Dr. Laura laughed approvingly. Perhaps
narrow-minded talk show hosts who think
they know everything ought to be smacked upside the head instead.
The firestorm of protest from gay groups scared away some sponsors
in advance. During this first week's
tepid shows, there were hardly any commercials from big-ticket
advertisers, except maybe for Brinks
Home Security and Summer's Eve douche. Otherwise it was the usual
depressing daytime assortment
of cheapo spiels--for truck-driving schools, 800-number junk,
a ringworm cure and that vile huckster
who does tarot-card readings over the phone.
Why doesn't Dr. Laura do a show about "psychic hot line scams"?
She'll probably do that one right
after she tackles malicious harassment of gay youths.
One can understand the appeal of Dr. Laura's Old Testament moralizing,
and even the value of it,
in an environment dominated by the sordid and violent exploitation
concocted in Hollywood--by such
studios as, for example, Paramount, which is owned by Viacom,
which owns UPN (and is now part
of an empire that includes CBS). It is lamentable, deplorable
and worrisome.
And yet Dr. Laura's prescription seems worse than the disease.
It basically
amounts to having all of us kneel and kiss her Gucci-booted feet.
The show is poorly produced. Dr. Laura spends part of her time
in the audience (on a set that looks
like the Roman Senate in "Spartacus"), the way Oprah does--and
a drabber, more forlorn studio
audience you may never see.
They look like hostages, not guests. Lord knows where the producers
find them. The hapless, desperate
director keeps cutting to reaction shots of people who look as
if they have been hypnotized, tranquilized
or embalmed. It adds to the overall mournful, poverty-row ambiance
of the show.
Her signature sign-off is already familiar to millions of Dr.
Laura radio fans: "Do the right thing" or a
slight variation thereof. If she uttered those words at the beginning
of the show instead of the end,
the logical reaction would be to tune to another channel. "Dr.
Laura" is a bust.