| AND THEY THOUGHT WAR WAS HELL -- TIMES ARE TENSE IN `HOMEFRONT' By Virginia Mann, Record Television Critic Date: 09-24-1991, Tuesday HOMEFRONT 10 p.m. Tuesdays, ABC (Special premiere: 9:30 tonight) There's another troupe of good-looking people in the old "thirtysomething" slot tonight. And these new folks really have reason to whine. The women face losing their jobs to returning GIs. The town's token black family appeals to the White House to get its hero-son his due. Two young locals have lost their men to European women, and a soldier returns to find his lover's affections cooled. He hasn't yet discovered she's been carrying on with his brother. We haven't even gotten to the Cold War yet! If you hear the splash of soap in all this, you've got good ears. The folks who created ABC's new "Homefront" -- husband-and-wife team Lynn Marie Latham and Bernard Lechowick -- have written and produced the nighttime serial "Knots Landing." Their partner in this new venture, David Jacobs, is the father of both "Knots" and "Dallas." But there's a lot more to "Homefront" than sex and intrigue. Latham and Lechowick, who've been researching this project for several years, have produced a pilot that's also compelling and intelligent. One of three new offerings to use the risky period format this fall (CBS' "Brooklyn Bridge" and NBC's "I'll Fly Away" are the others), "Homefront" is set immediately after World War II in a little Ohio town, River Run. The series sports lovely, true-to-the-time sets and costumes. In tonight's 90-minute pilot, which begins a half-hour earlier than usual, there's one particularly rich scene, shot at Union Station in Los Angeles, of GIs meeting their families at the railroad depot. The biggest challenge for producers will be divvying up the air time among the 14 members of the fine ensemble cast. For the pilot, you may need a score card to keep everybody straight. The noblest soul appears to be Hank Metcalf, who's well-played by David Newsom (who was born in Glen Ridge and grew up in North Caldwell). This romantic character freely admits that what pulled him through the war was the idea of coming home to his beautiful fiancee, Sarah (Alexandra Wilson). Hank -- who convincingly utters lines like, "If there's another woman on this planet, I haven't met her. I haven't even seen her" -- is devastated to learn that Sarah's no longer sure she wants to marry him. He still hasn't figured out, at least not yet, why his kid brother, Jeff (the handsome Kyle Chandler), keeps telling him: "It's nobody's fault." Another engaging element is the plight of the Metcalf women -- mother Anne (Wendy Phillips) and her daughter, Linda (Jessica Steen), who've been working as riveters at the Sloan factory but are expected to cede their jobs to GIs. Linda makes it clear she won't give up without a fight. Another complication is that Linda was in love with her employer's son, Mike Sloan, who married a young Italian woman, Gina (Giuliana Santini) while abroad. Linda runs into that innocent young creature at the train station, where Gina also meets her snobbish, bigoted new in-laws -- Mike Sloan Sr. (Ken Jenkins) and his wife, Ruth (Mimi Kennedy). They are obviously disappointed to see her on the platform instead of their son. "You must be my new . . . Italian," says Ruth, who quickly resolves to have this marriage annulled. Her husband, aiming to oblige, sets out to test his theory that it should take no more than three phone calls for any American to reach the White House. As it turns out, though, their son's marriage is the least of their problems. The Sloans' household staff includes husband-and-wife Abe and Gloria Davis (Dick Anthony Williams and Hattie Winston), blacks who serve as domestic and chauffeur. Their only child, Robert (Sterling Macer Jr.), is returning a decorated war hero. Sloan promises he'll find Robert a good position at the plant. When his son is offered a janitorial job, Abe -- who'd overheard Sloans' three-telephone-call theory -- uses his humble connections to reach Eleanor Roosevelt. It's a fine sequence. Finally, there's another tangled trio: GI Charlie Hailey (Harry O'Reilly); Ginger (Tammy Lauren), the sweetheart who was so convinced he'd marry her she shows up at the train station in a wedding gown; and Caroline (Sammi Davis-Voss), Charlie's English bride, who winds up reaching Ohio before he does. The openly antagonistic Ginger, who works at the local pharmacy, retaliates by refusing to sell Caroline spermicide and calling her the "slimy little limey." She's convinced she lost her man because the other woman "put out." "Why do you always blame the woman?" asks Linda, who seems to be several decades ahead of her time. In fact, "Homefront" may be a little too politically correct for the mid-Forties. At one point, when Sloan remarks that Robert is "a credit to your race," Abe shoots back: "a credit to the human race." It's a fine exchange, except I'm not sure it would have taken place in small-town America back then. Originally, ABC sent out a 60-minute pilot that some other critics found rushed. The producers gladly added 30 minutes, to flesh out some of the characters -- mostly, it seems, the conniving Caroline. Otherwise, though, the producers achieve their goal of demythologizing this supposedly golden era. Overall, Latham and Lechowick have deftly interwoven the many story lines, and there's rarely a dull moment. What's more, viewers who did not care for "thirtysomething" will be happy to know that, for all its problems, this new crowd doesn't do a lot of complaining. |
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