This blog has always been a
haven to focus on positive subjects. If you want grim headlines and sad stories
you have plenty of other places to find them.
But in the wake of the most
recent revelations about Bill Cosby, and given his remarkable television
career, the subject becomes the proverbial elephant in my room. This is not
just another pop culture controversy like the newfound denigration of The
Dukes of Hazzard, which is beyond
ludicrous. There are much bigger questions here.
Bill Cosby is more than a
classic TV star or a famous TV dad. Over a career that spans 50 years he has
ascended to a place in the pantheon of the medium’s most important and beloved
creative talents. And in less than one year, he has fallen from grace to a
point where he is now a pariah. That doesn’t happen every day.
We are technically still in
the “innocent until proven guilty” phase of the story. Several of his accusers
are represented by publicity-obsessed ambulance chaser Gloria Allred, which
damages their credibility by association, and model Janice Dickinson’s story
seems to change every time she tells it. But there are valid reasons why Cosby
has already been tried and convicted in the court of public opinion. This was
not one incident or one lapse in judgment. If the allegations of any of his 40
accusers are to be believed, this once-beloved comedian orchestrated cruel and
calculated acts of abuse that cannot be defended.
So how are we to square
that persona with the man who costarred with Robert Culp in I Spy (1965-1968) and won three consecutive Best Actor
Emmy Awards for his portrayal of Alexander Scott? Cosby was already a rising
standup comic who had written and performed such brilliant routines as the
ark-building conversation between the Lord and Noah (“What’s a cubit?”). With I
Spy he became the first black man
to play a lead role in a prime time network television series.
This was just one year
after the passage of the Civil Rights Act that banned discrimination. It was a
significant moment in the evolution of television, and had it been tried with
another actor it might not have worked; Cosby had a charisma, charm and
approachability that made it easier for audiences to accept him as a full equal
in his on-screen partnership with Culp. He made that happen, and we can’t take
it away now.
The Electric Company (1971-1977) is a show I watch more often than any
adult should. I love the still-funny sketches and catchy songs and wonderful
cast, which for a time included Bill Cosby. In the 1970s he was a passionate
advocate for the role that television could and should be playing in educating
children and teaching them to be tolerant, and kind, and better citizens of the
world.
These objectives were also
incorporated into Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids, the animated series he co-created and hosted,
while also voicing several characters. It was not only another success (in 2013
TV Guide selected it as the best
cartoon series of the 1970s) it earned Cosby a Doctorate in Education.
And yet it’s possible that
throughout this entire time, he was also drugging and molesting women. Does
that mean everything he did on behalf of kids was a lie? And if he was sincere
does it even matter?
The Cosby Show (1984-1992) was as groundbreaking in its own way as
I Spy, and once again Cosby was
not just a hired actor but also the creative force behind the series’ concept
and development.
For the first time, a
series was built around an affluent African-American family, without the
caricature overtones of The Jeffersons. It was a harbinger of the post-racial culture we all hoped we were
headed toward, but that recent news stories suggest is still a distant dream.
The result was #1 Neilsen ratings, more Emmys and as celebrated a comedy series
as television has ever produced.
So what do we do with all
of this?
First, we need to identify
the extent to which Cosby’s behavior has tarnished the legacy of his work.
We’ve faced this type of decision before, from Danny Bonaduce and Todd Bridges
to Woody Allen and Robert Blake. Blake's reputation fared the worst – but if you think
murder is where we draw the line, tell that to Vince Neil, or Snoop Dogg, or
Teddy Kennedy.
The other factor in the
Cobsy case is that we still don’t have any closure, in the form of a conviction
or an unambiguous confession. This makes it easier for fans to stand by him, as
they did with Lance Armstrong through a decade of doping denials. At this
point, however, it’s hard to imagine Cosby’s reputation getting any worse no matter
what happens next.
Thus, there are only two
choices: we could expunge his shows, films and comedy routines from public
broadcast, because his flaws as a human being were more significant than his
talent and philanthropy.
Or, we put Cosby’s abuse in
context by keeping the work accessible to those who wish to see it, while
reminding present and future generations that this man who could be so funny
and insightful was also capable of awful things.
I understand the sentiments
of those who never want to watch his shows again. However, I also understand
those who can separate the artist from the art and still appreciate the exceptional
entertainment he provided for half a century. Besides, a lot of other people
worked on those shows too. Why should their hard work be punished?
None of us are the sum of
all of our virtues or the sum of all of our sins, no matter how exceptional the
virtue or how despicable the sin. For that reason, my tendency is to concur
with the latter option. But if and when I watch Bill Cosby’s television work in
the years to come, I will never fully watch it in the same way again.