The
setting is a glossy, gangster-run resort, and the
killers have cornered three snoopy private detectives in
a corral full of spirited horses. Obviously there's no
escape. But, ah, just in the nick of time, the three
pull guns and fire into the air. Which frightens the
horses. Which stampede the no-goods. Which saves the day
for righteous snoopers.
Whereupon the resourceful three, long skirts flying,
sashay victoriously from the corral, and the crew of
Charlie's Angels applauds warmly.
Actually, stampeding the enemy into submission is
routine stuff for Sabrina, Jill and Kelly - Charlie's
Angels, played by Kate Jackson, Farrah Fawcett-Majors
and Jaclyn Smith. It's all business-as-usual for them as
they risk their gorgeous hides for their clients by
racing stock cars, competing in roller derbies and
fleeing in rafts, boats and brakeless cars (as a rule of
thumb, any car they escape in is brakeless and headed
downhill). Kelly even has to escape a lout chasing her
with a hay baler.
Realistic? "Anyone who thinks these girls are really
private detectives," says executive producer Aaron
Spelling, "is nuts." But the Spelling-Goldberg company
is putting up more than a third of a million dollars per
episode, the biggest series budget in its history, to
back its belief that no one will really care.
Veteran director Dick Benedict tries to be calm. "In
this show I got all kinds of locations, cars going off
mountains, people in water, under water, on rafts, on
boats, and all anybody asks me is 'How do the girls
look?' A girl is supposed to be underwater two hours and
she pops up and every hair has to be in place." Spelling
adds, "On this show we're more concerned with hairdos
and gowns than the twists and turns of the plots."
Charlie's Angels may be TV's first prime-time girlie
show. In one scene, Farrah, in shorts and a T-shirt,
comes bouncing into a bar. "Hey," a crew member
whispers, "she ain't got nothing on underneath."
Wardrobe set lady Geri Hayward confirms that Farrah is
indeed braless. "ABC agreed to it because the girls are
so lovely." ί But she adds firmly, "Please don't call
that a T-shirt. That is an Ann Klein original."
Another scene calls for all the girls to be barelegged,
a fate that seems to happen often to them in the series.
Kate, the tallest, appears in high, high heels. An
assistant explains that Kate is proud of her long, slim
legs and likes to show them off to best advantage.
Farrah and Jaclyn, in tennis shoes and bare feet
respectively, demur, complaining flat-footed legs can't
compete against high-heeled legs. The case goes to the
producers, who decide, after heavy sighs, to cut Kate
down.
Such artistic differences between the girls are rare.
"The only time we have any conflict," says Farrah, "is
when we knock each other down racing for the doughnut
wagon." All three, shamelessly slim, insist they never
diet.
Their generally good spirits may perhaps have something
to do with the company's efforts to make their lives as
bearable as possible. Each is assigned a new $25,000
motor home bought just for her ("Renting would be
tacky," producer Rick Husky explains) plus a limousine
and a chauffeur. "Beautiful ladies should be pampered,"
says Husky.
The pampering extends to supporting players and extras.
"It takes longer, but we hire the handsomest people we
can find," Spelling says. "We also have extra
hairdressers and makeup people. And quality sets. We
don't want to plant these beautiful flowers in a garbage
dump."
The three flowers accept all this calmly enough because
they, like the girl in the commercial, know they're
worth it. Kate, after modeling and soap operas, became
nurse Jill Danko on The Rookies and at the end of its
four-year run was drawing more mail than any other
regular. Her success on the show lead Spelling-Goldberg
to promise her a pilot, which became Charlie's Angels.
Kate is witty, outgoing, exuberant, while Farrah is
quiet and calm and smiles a lot. Jaclyn, unlike the
others, had to compete with "droves of pretty girls" to
win her role and seems the most introspective. The
producers have tried to tailor the roles at least
roughly to the girls' outward characteristics. They
decided Jaclyn's character should be a girl who had had
a hard life, who maybe had even done a little hustling.
Jaclyn vetoed the hustling, saying Kelly may have had it
rough, but not that rough.
Farrah and Jaclyn are Texas-born-and-raised, and both
became major commercial stars. By a quirk, Jaclyn is
currently seen in Wella Balsam hair-conditioner spots
written for Farrah. Jaclyn had been the Breck girl for
years and when she was dropped, discovered her contract
didn't have the usual clause forbidding her to work for
a competing product. Wella Balsam signed her up
immediately, giving her commercials written for Farrah
but adding the preface, "I've switched." Farrah began
pitching another Wella Balsam line, and she also sells
toothpaste and cars.
Kate, from Birmingham, Ala., hated her modeling days:
"There's nothing more miserable than sitting there
wondering if a snip of hair is out of place." Her TV
career began on Dark Shadows, where she played a ghost
for three months. "I didn't have a line - which was ok,"
she says, "Because I was too scared to open my mouth. Then came my first speech... about a mile long. The
soaps are taped, but there's so little taping time, you
can't goof. I was doing the speech and the prompter was
running too slow and this little kid started jumping
up-and-down on my long gown. I wanted to croak! When I
finished, I found the gown was on fire and the little
trouper was stamping it out."
"I left my mark on Dark Shadows. One day I was doing my
lines perfectly from Act 3. Everyone else was doing Act
2. Another time, I was supposed to hit Jim Storm with a
breakaway vase. I smacked him and I never saw a better
fadeout. Eyes bulging, tongue out, the works. I thought:
'What a ham!' They hadn't told me which end of the vase
I was supposed to use. I think he was out 24 hours!"
She recalls she spent much of her time on The Rookies
doling out rather suspect medical reassurances. "There'd
be this little boy on the cot and I'd pat his hand and
say, 'You're going to be all right.' Then I'd turn my
head and sob, 'Get a priest!'"
"I also broke up a lot. I was doing a scene with Pippa
Scott and she'd eaten a jelly doughnut or something and
her stomach was making funny sounds. I tried and I
tried, but every time the line came out, 'I'm sorry, but
your baby died. . . hehehehehehehe'."
Charlie's Angels first worked together in the pilot, in
which they were simply private detectives. In the
series, they are graduates of a police academy who
dropped off the force because life with Charlie is more
exciting. But they aren't demolishing bad guys with
karate chops or other acts of aggression. "It's more
fun," says Husky, "to watch a pretty girl being chased
than to watch her chase."
Charlie is heard, but his face isn't seen. The producers
aren't telling who he is and only turn their faces when
people guess he sounds like John Forsythe. It was
originally decided to show only the back of Charlie's
head. After selecting the voice they wanted, they sent
out a casting call for actors who hoped the backs of
their heads had possibilities . The victor has since
padded his part so that his back, bottom and a forearm
have also been seen. Apparently Forsythe is willing to
be an anonymous voice but not an anonymous back of a
head, bottom and forearm.
One day, the TV press from around the country was flown
in for interviews. Charlie's Angels were shocked at
harsh questioning, especially from female reporters,
about the show's attitude toward women. "They said the
show is sexist and we are playing sex objects," Jaclyn
recalls. "They also wanted to know why we would do a
show where we took orders from a man. It didn't do any
good to say we think of it as a big, fun fantasy thing."
Farrah, who looks as though she'd never had a care in
her life, believes life is tougher for women and there
isn't much that can be done about it - even if you are
rich, blond Farrah Fawcett-Majors and have almost
everything, including marriage to the Six Million Dollar
Man (Lee Majors).
"I haven't been able to find a housekeeper lately and
I've got a husband, a big house and three dogs," she
says "Lee comes home at night, has a sandwich and
shower, and flops into bed. I do women's work. I take
off my nail polish, figure out a menu for tomorrow,
maybe clean a room. In the morning I get up an hour and
a half earlier than Lee and clean and get food ready and
do half a dozen other chores. I've done a lot of work by
the time that limousine rolls up at 5:30."
Wardrobe is a problem because the show, even with its
hefty budget, can't afford the clothes the girls
ordinarily wear. "They could bring smashing things from
their closets," wardrobe mistress Hayward explains, "but
it would wreck our budget, first because they'd get torn
or stained and we'd have to replace them, and, second,
because we'd have to duplicate them for the doubles."
In advance of the big stampede scene, Jaclyn was
standing alongside the prancing horses, looking terribly
uneasy. It wasn't the horses, she explained, "but this
red dress. Isn't it awful? Why would they have me wear
something like this? Do you think I'll have to wear it
again?"
Husky understands their appreciation of fine clothes and
maintains, "We aren't dressing them in rags. When a
scene calls for jeans, they wear $70 French jeans
specially tailored for their splendid behinds." On
occasion, the clothes budget gets a break. One day
Farrah and Jaclyn wear only towels. The next day Jaclyn
works in a bikini, attempting to attract actor Robert
Loggia's attention - and succeeding.
There is also the matter of Albert and Satchel. Albert
is a black standard poodle who shares Jaclyn's bachelor
home (which she has remodeled into a replica of Tara;
she's a "Gone with the Wind" freak) and her motor home.
Early on, Jaclyn announced Albert would have a recurring
role, usually saving her life. A scene was duly written
for Albert.
Farrah, who is often accompanied to work by her black
Afghan, Satchel, immediately imagined cameos in which
Satchel could do interesting bits, such as saving her
life. It was probably only coincidence, but about that
time Albert was written out of the show. And if Albert
was out, what chance would Satchel have to play a part?
Hair stylist Naomi Cavin may have the toughest job on
the show. "Farrah and Jaclyn have made fortunes on their
hair and they know exactly how it should be," she says.
"And Mr. Spelling doesn't want them to appear on the set
until their hair is right, no matter how long it takes."
The first show ran at least $11,000 over its budget -
which is in excess of $345,000. Spelling admits that
"What ABC will pay us won't come near that sum." He was
reminded that Norman Lear, who uses tape instead of
film, says he makes a profit on every episode he sells
to the networks.
"Norman is a good friend," Spelling replies, "but I have
seen the quality of tape and I won't be associated with
it. But that's not all. Charlie's Angels, in beautiful
film, will be playing 10 years from now. I'd hate to see
one of his tapes 10 years from now. And our films are
enjoyed all over the world. We get more from Starsky &
Hutch in London alone than Norman gets from any of his
shows in all of Europe."
Meanwhile, back on location, Kate is being introduced to
the race car she will pilot around the Saugus Speedway
in the next show. Stunt coordinator Ron Stein outlines
what seems like a suicidal mission for an amateur
driver, and Kate lets out a complaint, loud and clear
"It's orange," she cries. "Who the hell ever thought of
painting it orange? It's the most miserable color in the
world. What'll I look like in an orange car?"
On the sidelines cableman Paul Nelson looks downcast. "I
stayed up all Saturday night painting it," he murmurs "I
thought orange was pretty."
—Bill O Hallaren