"Should auld acquaintance be forgot..."
A rosy-cheeked caroling crew is lip-synching "Auld Lang Sync"
as bundled-up Bostonians carrying holiday gifts brave frosty winter
winds for the camera. Though we're in Los Angeles on a 60 degree
early October afternoon, it's decidedly December on the set of
"Ally McBeal". Red bows dot streetlamps, a perfectly
rotound Santa Claus waves a Salvation Army bell, and here comes
Calista Flockhart, filming a scene in which Ally huffs her way
right by the festivities -- only to whip around and angrily barrel
right into the choir.
A few minutes later, the camera follows as she bah-humbugs down
the tinsel-tinged street and nearly collides with a pedestrian.
She shuffles right, then left, then looks up at the human roadblock.
Hey, whaddaya know! it's Robert Downey Jr., looking rather dapper
as the new kid in town: sharp-suited, whip-smart attorney Larry
Paul.
"larry!" exclaims our flummoxed heroine on cue, hitting
him across the arm. "I was just on my way to see you."
"I was on my way to see you," volleys back Downey.
"You were?"
"They say it's a good sign when a couple can meet halfway."
Pause. "Are we a good couple?" she asks, oozing classic
Ally doe-eyed hope and curled-lip heaviness.
And Cut! Ladies and gentlement of the jury, we submit to you that
Ms. McBeal has just posed the most scintillating, fascinating,
befuddling, eye-popping question of the new television season.
But for those of you who've been sequestered of late, let us review:
Already famous for its off-kilter plot devices (a nose whistle
here, a dancing baby there) and it's talented press magnet of
a star, Fox's provocative lawyer dramedy practically jolted the
mochaccino right out of Hollywood's hands with the Aug. 10 news
that Mr. Downey had signed up to play Ally's love interest or
at least eight episodes. Sure, big-deal movie stars have graced
the small screen before: Bruce Willis popped up on "Friends"
last season, Sally Field is taking a sex-episode turn on "ER"
starting this month. But never before has someone as undeniably
controversial and cool -- you might know him as Perhaps the Greatest
Film Actor of His Generation or Prisoner #P50522 -- taken to the
tube like this. Yes, the verdict is in: Christmas has indeed arrived
a few months early for Ally McBeal.
***
In full-on pensive mode at a quaint Brentwood restaurant, Calista
Flockhart pauses a lengthy 22 seconds while contemplating season
four of her series. (And you thought Ally was an introspective
gal.) "So many things about the show have changed,"
she finally begins, adjusting her Krispy Kreme baseball hat. "We've
lost two actors, we've gotton another one that's semipermanent
at the moment, and new producers. On the one hand, it's difficult
to break the ecosystem when it's very delicate. And when people
leave, it can be very disruptive. But on the other hand, changeis
inevitable... and always turns out to be a good thing."
“Some might say a very good thing: Last season, formerly
enamored critics began chargin that the show was growing too outlandish,
with stuff like the hallucination-drenched death and subsequent
ghostly sightings of Bill (the now departed Gil Bellows), or Flockhart’s
character edging from endearingly neurotic to -- uh, how should
we put this? -- a bit deranged. Viewers were also a tad turned
off. The series slipped out of the top 20, losing 13 percent of
its audience. A repackaged, half-hour version of the show dudded
out on arrival. And another telling sign: After nabbing the best-comedy
Emmy in 1999, “Ally” wasn’t even nominated for
the award this year. (Cue cartoonish F/X shot of a dozen arrows
plunging into the cast’s hearts.)
“There’s always that line with ‘Ally’.”
concedes creator David E. Kelley. “When you cross the line,
it’s just a little too crazy. There were a couple of episodes
where we ad pygmies chasing characters down the street. It was
really no different conctionally than things we’d done in
prvious years as part of Ally’s imaginary world, but I think
the audience felt that it was a little too much. And they were
probably right.”
What’s this? All-Powerful TV Guy showing a sign of weakness?
Well, here’s an even bigger admission from Kelley. The profoundloy
prolific auteur -- who also lords over “The Practice”
and the new “Boston Public” -- had finally hired a writing
staff for “Ally”! At least, we think he has. “I
haven’t met them, I haven’t seen them, so I cannot confirm
that for you,” deadpans the 35-year old Flockhart, “But
I’ve been told they exist. “All right, David is this
for real? “It’s true,” he insists laughting. “I’m
geting help.”
And the scribes’ first clear-cut mission will be to transform
the titular emotional Chernobyl into a more confident woman who’s
less prone to meltdown now that she’s hit the big 3-0. Although
the show will still proudly fly its freak flag (look for Florence
Hederson to drop by as the instructor of the very un-Brady course
How to Satisfy Your Man), “the focus of the episodes will
be more on their romantic centers than it was last kyear,”
hints Kelley. “The stories might be smalller in scope, but
I think they’re probably ultimately more appealing to the
viewers.” To that end, Ling (Lucy Liu) and Fish (Greg Germann)
heat up their bizarre fling, the Biscuit (Peter MacNichol) acquires
a new honey in guest star Anne Heche (hello, is it raining casting
coups or what?), and after getting entangled in a “Crying
Game” twist, firm newcomer Mark (James LeGros) winds up dipping
his pen in the company ink with Elaine (Jane Krakowski).
But pity the pairing that tries to match the white-hotness of
Flockhart’s fusion with Downey. “It just smelled like
a real good match,” says Kelley. “Robert has this comedic
tone that I thought was really organic to our show. We’ve
had a very hard time finding how interests for Ally, and one of
the reasons is that when you see Ally with a guy you just sort
of (say), “Uh-oh, he’s not going to make it.” i
think our audience is extremely protective of Ally -- as are we
-- so whoever she’s dating, he’d better be good enough.”
No problem there. “I think he’s inspired people to go
the extra mile,” says Flockhart of her new costar. “It’s
hard doing a show for four years. You get into patterns, you get
into ways of doing things and everybody just kind of... I don’t
want to imply that things weren’t good before, but the energy
of somebody new coming in sends a little zuuushhh!... sweet inspiration.
Maybe he raised the bar a little bit.”
Actually, the jury is still out on that one. Although the show’s
Oct. 23 season debut drew glowing reviews and a solid 13.2 million
viewers, up from last year’s season average of 12 million,
it wasn’t quite a sweeping success. (The episode was down
17.5 percent from last season’s debut, and the show was bested
by ABC’s “Monday Night Football” and CBS’
“Everybody Loves Raymond”). And with Downey’s story
not taking off until episode 4, it may take a while to stoke the
coals.
But, for what it’s worth, the “Ally” folks already
have fire in the belly. “We’re back to telling the stories
that eveybody loved in the beginning and we’re out to show
everybody that we’re back in that way,” says “Ally”
executive producer Bill D’Elia, who joined the show toward
the end of last season. “So yeah, we do feel like there’s
something to show -- and we’re gonna show it, dammit!”
Adds “Ally” co-executive producer Alice West in a mock
growl: “We want those nominations back!”
***
Holed up in an upscale beach hotel just a few miles away from
the “Ally” set, Downey hovers over a table full of stuff
that’s not good for him. “I am treating myself,”
he declares, rubbing his hands together, “because I am unwell.”
With that warning issued, he spears a forkful of fried zucchini
sticks and submerges them in a cup of ranch dressing. Though he
looks rather dashing with his slicked-back hair and clean-shaven
mug, apparently he’s contracted “the make-out flu”
from Flockhart (who, like several other “Ally” staffers,
battled a virus that would briefly halt production) while shooting
repetitive takes of a romantic scene. Not that he’s complaining.
“I don’t want to sound too caution-to-the-wind,”
he says, “but I was like, ‘Hey, you know, if I get it,
I get it. We’re making out. This is great.’”
It sure beats his last gig: a 12-month prison lockup (his second)
for violating the drug-test conditions of his probation for a
drugs-and-weapon-possession conviction. With his release on Aug.
2, a newly pumped-up Downey, 35, was eager to jump back in front
of the kind of cameras not owned by the nightly news. So, two
days later, he found himself sitting in Hollywood talent agency
ICM with his agents, Ed Limato and Nick Styne. (Recalls Downey:
“I was like, ‘I’m in Ed’s office. This is
massive. Boy it’s nice to be out. They’re offering me
sodas. Very happy to see them.’”) By the end of the
casual reunion, the subject had eased into the increasing stream
of movie role offers (biopics, dramas, comedies) that awaited
Downey. Oh, yes, there were also some feelers from a little TV
show called “Ally McBeal”. For seversal years, Pam Wisne,
president of Kelley’s production company, had been pursuing
Downey with little luck; strictly by coincidence, she’d had
a long-scheduled meeting with Downey’s handlers not 24 hours
before the ICM reunion. “What can I say?” chuckles Wisne
about her strategy, which she sums up as “We’re good!
He’ll want to come here!” “Maybe my naivete worked
for me.”
As fate would have it, Downey happened to be a casual fan of the
show, though forced confinement had put a crimp in his “Ally”
viewing. (“You know, the way the TV schedule went [in prison],
there weren’t many votes going that way,” he notes.
“’Friends’ was huge. As a matter of fact, you know
when the show starts, ‘Da na n na na ‘ and everyone
claps? I swear to God, it was just like 75 thugs going ‘Da
na na na na life was gonna be this way...’ CLAPCLAPCLAPCLAP!
‘Stop clappping, dud! I’ve got kitchen at 4:30! ‘Shut
the f--- up!’”) Nevertheless, there was something intriguing,
serendipitous, even logical about the “Ally scenario. For
starters, the part (approaching $100,000 an episode) would start
almost immediately. And compared with the nomadic
job-to-job situation in feature films, a weekly TV role could
provide a sold, supportive base for his recovery; Kelley’s
production company even sponsors 12-step meetings on his studio
lot.
And for a guy who’s tackled more than his share of dark dudes
(recently in “U.S. Marshalls” and “In Dreams”),
Downey like the idea assuming an effervescent, nice-guy character
as his first role back. True there may have been a little PR-image
rehab going on here, but he says it was primarily for a very select
demographic: his 6-year-old son. “indio was like, ‘Dad
are you gonna play a good guy next time’” coos Downye,
imitating the tyke. “And I was like, ‘You bet’”
He pauses in the unepected sweetness of the moment, then adds:
“But it wasn’t like I went to him and said, “Indio,
you can really relax now -- Daddy’s playing a <lawyer>!’”
Just in case you’re wondering, no, the rich ironies of playing
a servant of the court weren’t lost on him. In fact, Downey
says that when he walked into “Ally”’s courtroom
set for the first ime. “it was like a triple reverse Ionesco
thing of <playing> a lawyer on a TV show. it was so nice
to go into this <fake> courtroom. I immediately went up
into the judge’s chair. Nice view. A preferable perspective.”
While Downey was having an out-of-body experience, imagine how
the rest of the cast reacted after hearing that a certain Academy
Award
nominee/ex-con would be joining their squad. “I thought they
were kidding,” insists Germann. “I thought, ‘That’s
the thing he’s gonna choose? To be with us???’ I really
did. I couldn’t believe that he would want to be with us
-- not to put us down. When it was confirmed, I was thrilled.
It’s like, ‘She wants to go out with me??? Are you sure???
Wait, have a look at my picture again. Now, does she still want
to go out with me? She does?? Okay, great! I’ll go! I’ll
go!’”
Not everyone in town took the news with such elatioin, though.
“It would be fair to say that I heard from many, many different
producers and network executives on many shows,” says ICM’s
Styne. “They were somewhat angry -- why hadn’t we thought
of them, aren’t we friends, et cetera. And I responded with
‘Do you think we sat in a room and really said, ‘Which
television show should Robert go on?’ This was a lot [about]
David Kelley, and something that Robert felt right with.”
Jealous execs be damned, Downey seems quite happy in “Ally”land.
When the cameras are off, he and Fockhart can be seen playfully
poking each other, applying makeup to each other’s cheeks
and just generally goofing off. And when the cameras <are>
rolling -- watch out. “Whenever he comes into the room and
we begin the scene, you just know that something is going to happen,”
says Flockhart. “He’s not an actor that’s going
to be bullied into conformity. There’s just somethign so
uninhibited and so free and so uncensored about him. And he’s
unequivocally bright and smart, so that combination is deadly.”
Not one to be outdone, Downey calls Flockhart “the creme
de la creme of actresses. There’s an ever-unfolding -- I
don’t want to say repartee -- but kind of a subliminal commentary
going on. She’s so fast and she’s so freakin’ smart
that I can go somewhere with her and then she’ll read that
andtake it down some Stuttgart side alley, somewhere weird, you
know what I mean? I jsut feel like it’s great to be able
to be paid to play with her.”
Hold on, there’s more love to go around here. “I was
fortunate enough to direct the first scenes with those two,”
raves D’Elia, “and it felt like I was back in the ‘40’s
making an old romantic comed.” All right, anyone els? “Calista
is the best light comedienne ther is right now,” offers Germann.
“And the two of them together -- there’s a little Cary
Grant-Carole Lombard thing going on. It’s sweet, it’s
funny, it’s fast, it’s smart, and it pulls at your heartstrings
all at one time.”
Still, as we must ask skeptically with all of Ally’s romances,
just how long will this one last? Considering that Downey’s
eight-episode contract expires in a few weeks (and he wants to
squeeze in a movie before the looming strike occurs), we wouldn’t
start scouring the Williams-Sonoma registries yet. The folks at
“Ally” say they’ll employ any reasonable tactic
to keep him around (“I thought about skywriting,” says
D’Elia), though they’re perfectly prepared to continue
without him. “We’re very aware of what the show is,”
notes D’Elia. “We didn’t just say, ‘Okay,
we now have Robert Downey Jr., [let’s] change the
complexioin of the show.’ It’s a pretty deep, talented,
rich cast and there’s plently of stories to tell.:
With or without “Ally”, meanwhile, Downey must continue
his journey on the steep, S-curved road to recover. (Even in this
jaded town, though, a healthy majority seem to want him to succeed:
“When we have lunch of romething,” notes Wisene, “all
kinds of people come up to him, saying, ‘Now you do it this
time! And good luck to you!’”) He speaks
wide-eyed, about spending more time with his son (Downey is estranged
from Indio’s mother, Deborah Falconer), and beams while discussing
efforts to clean up his life in all respects. “I’m very
much into organizing,” he reports proudly. “I find such
great peace in getting my little clothes out the night before
work. I mean, to watch me, you would think I probably had OCD
(obsessive-compulsive disorder), but it’s not really like
that. It’s <meditation>.”
Chilling on the hotel patio as a perfectly pleasant October day
wanes, Downey remains cautiously optimistic about the future.
“For whatever reason, I felt l had to have something more...
And I chose to believe that I found that something in drugs,”
he says staring through his shades at the serene California seascape.
“But this is the buzz. We’re sitting out her, the sun
is hot, and I’ve created zero wreckage today -- and I intend
to create no more."