IT'S HARD TO evaluate a movie like A Very Brady Sequel
because, though it works on many different levels, at its heart
it is totally vacant. It's a loving homage to one of the most
boring, vapid TV shows ever produced--I say this even though I
adored the show as a kid. But one of the hard things about becoming
an adult is coming to realize that, in truth, The Brady Bunch
is deeply idiotic; and so A Very Brady Sequel has the
difficult task of recreating something very dumb and somehow making
it interesting.
It's a fine line, but A Very Brady Sequel succeeds spectacularly
by using every little insipid tic of the TV show and magnifying
it just enough to be eerily reminiscent of the original, but still
exaggerated enough to be funny. The set, for example, is an exact
replica of the Brady house--the Danish modern furniture, the pop-u-luxe
floor plan, the goddamn teak stairway--but the Bradys themselves
are subtly distorted. Their clothes are perfect, but all of them
are supersaturated with tan makeup; they have a grotesque, Max
Factor version of that George Hamilton, seventies beige sheen.
The plot, also, negotiates a truce between the original spirit
of the sitcom and the spice we've all come to expect from movies
in the nineties. The story revolves around a certain antique horse
that Carol Brady (Shelley Long) keeps on the Formica counter in
the living room. Actually, the horse is a rare Chinese relic worth
$20 million, but the Bradys have no idea of its value and plan
to donate it to charity. The first Brady Bunch Movie revolved
around the idea that while the outside world was in the nineties,
the Brady's were still blissfully mired in the seventies. That's
still the premise of A Very Brady Sequel, but this time
around the conflict between the '70s/'90's is peripheral and another
threat has rolled around to spur the action: Mrs. Brady's first
husband has reappeared to claim both Carol and the horse.
Poor Carol is in a tough spot here, and even considers changing
her hair style as she grapples with the moral dilemma of which
man is really her mate. The exciting development for Brady
Bunch fans though is that at last we get to witness a violation
of The Brady Taboo. The Brady Taboo says: Never mention the time
before this group somehow formed a family and we all became the
Brady Bunch. Once violated, the floodgates bust open. Greg and
Marsha finally realize they aren't really brother and sister
and begin to exchange lustful looks. (Sadly, Mr. Brady still doesn't
mention his first wife.)
The acting, though, is the heart of what makes A Very
Brady Sequel so much fun to watch. The performances range
from Jennifer Elise Cox's hair-swinging imitation of Jan, to Gary
Cole's (who played the devil/Sheriff on TV's American Gothic)
dead-on, spookily patriarchal rendition of Mike Brady, originally
played by Robert Reed. Christine Taylor's snooty take on Marsha,
a girl obsessed with hair care, is also great. None of these performances
will mean anything though if you haven't logged an embarrassing
chunk of pre-teen hours mainlining the sitcom straight from the
tube. One drawback of A Very Brady Sequel is that it's
one gigantic in-joke, and if you had something better to do during
the primetime hours of 1969-1974 (or the subsequent re-runs),
I can't imagine this movie would be very interesting. Apparently,
not many of us had anything better to do; the theater audience
seemed intimately familiar with The Brady Bunch. When a
dog streaked across screen, half of us involuntarily exclaimed
"Tiger!"
For all the carefree fun of A Very Brady Sequel, there's
something a little depressing about its nostalgia. Longing for
another time, no matter how lighthearted, has a touch of bleakness
to it, if only that the awareness of time passing implies our
mortality. And, in truth, if you've ever stepped into a house
where everything is overwhelmingly of another age (and not because
the owners collect kitsch or antiques) then you know how sad it
is to be in a world whose citizens seemed to have entirely missed
the last 25 years. Two recent movies, Welcome To The Dollhouse
and Heavy, depict these kinds of depressing worlds where
both the emotional lives and the interior decoration of the characters
haven't progressed since the seventies. One of the saddest details
in Heavy is the Farrah Fawcett poster hanging over the
bed of a 40-year-old man.
--Stacey Richter
Capsule Reviews
A Very Brady Sequel 
Other Films by Arlene Sanford
I'll Be Home for Christmas 
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