Bob Newhart, 1929-2024

[Paul Murray]

https://apnews.com/article/bob-newhart-dead-799460b72b3c47e7aaf4eeb246f00b8c

[Dave Sikula]

This is a Facebook post from a friend of mine. She directed seven episodes of "Newhart" and one of "Murphy Brown," where Newhart did a cameo as Bob Hartley.

Ahhhh, Bob. I should’ve been ready for this one. I should’ve given some thought to what I wanted to say about him. Because I loved Bob.

1988: My agent called. “Hey, I got you an episode of Newhart!”

This was early in my career and that was a big deal. When I was a teenager, my sister Pat and I listened to his album, “The Button-down Mind of Bob Newhart” so often that we knew every line, every bit, every beat of the timing. We’d “do” the album back and forth to each other. In the 70s, when I was in the acting company at Seattle Rep, I’d sneak into the crew office to watch snippets of The Bob Newhart Show between entrances. So, yeah, directing an episode of Newhart was a BIG big deal.

Before I began, I got “the drill” from the exec producers: Bob doesn’t like to move around very much. He likes to stay near the counter at the entrance, especially when Larry, Darryl and Darryl are there. And Bob likes to get out early, around 3 p.

OK. I can do that, finish by 3p. and keep it simple. OK, got it.

Then I saw the script. Turns out it was the 100th episode. Traditionally, in sitcom land, the 100th show gives the network an opportunity to build good “numbers” (ratings) by including most of the players, even the semi-regular ones, maybe even the past guest actors who have graced the stage in past seasons, all in that one “very special” episode. And so, to accommodate this tradition, the episode I was going to direct revolved around several town hall meetings where more than twenty different characters interacted with each other and, of course, with Bob. It was a really big show, as Ed Sullivan might have said.

Of course I was nervous. There were only a couple of us “girls” directing episodes in those days and we were under a lot of scrutiny, and a lot of distrust. I had already been fired once a year back. Twenty-five actors in the episode, not counting background. Bob doesn’t like to move, keep it simple, get out early.

It was ROCK < me > HARD PLACE.

First day of rehearsal. Cast rolling in at 10a. Sitting casually at the table for the readthrough. Bob and Tom Poston perusing the sports pages and sipping Cup o’ Soup in paper cups and telling stories. It’s delightful. I’m afraid to start rehearsals because they are sitting there being funny. But the clock is ticking. I look at the stage manager who says with his eyes, don’t worry just let them talk. And so I do, but I’m thinking keep it simple, get out early.

I set up the first scene on the inn set. Bob is at the counter. It’s simple, he seems to be ok with it. And so it goes until we get to the first Town Hall scene. I stage it with Bob opposite most of the other players, so Bob can be still and the others can move around him. Rehearsal ended at 2:45p. Whew!

That’s how it went for the next few days: slow start, the paper, Cup o’ Soup, stories with Tom Poston.

Then came camera blocking day, the day before the show. After mapping out the camera moves, we let Bob go and brought in a (really good) stand-in for Bob. We shot out most of the guest stars and a few of the regulars. The next day we were ready to do the audience show with a reasonable amount of material to shoot.

By this time, I had said very little to Bob except things like, “maybe stand here”, “oh yeah, that’s fine you can stay and he can move around you”. Stuff like that. Nothing personal or anything. But the atmosphere during rehearsals was pleasant and Bob was pleasant and of course, perfect. Perfectly understatedly funny.

And so it was that on show night, the miracle happened and it all came together: the audience laughed and we got Bob out early. After that, there was a cake and champagne to celebrate the 100th episode. Bob was gone; my stage manager said “Lee, have some champagne!”, and I said, “Oh no thanks I don’t drink champagne, it gives me a headache.” And he said, “well, what to do you drink?” and I said “Scotch”. And he said, “Well Bob drinks scotch, let’s get you some of his.” And I said, Wait, what?” 

Minutes later I was standing outside of Bob’s dressing room door as his wife Ginnie opened it. ”Oh Lee, come in!”.

I stand between Bob, at a bar, and Ginnie across the room, by a couch. She is organizing things as she talks to me. “Oh Lee, Bob was so happy with this week’s rehearsals”.

I turn to Bob, “Thank you Bob”.

Ginnie says “He was so glad that you got him out early every day”.

I turn back again, “Thank you Bob”.

Ginnie: “And he really loved the way you worked out the shooting of this big episode”. Turn. “Thank you, Bob”.

“And if he’d known that you drink Scotch, he would have got one for you before this”. Bob hands me a scotch with rocks.

”Oh! Thank you Bob”.

I can’t remember if he said anything to me that night. Or if I said anything to Ginnie.

But I was hired to direct many episodes after that night and so I got to talk to Bob a lot, after, you know, the Cup o’ Soup and Tom Poston.

Thank you Bob. Rest in Peace.

On Thursday, July 18, 2024 at 1:29:10 PM UTC-7 Paul Murray wrote:

https://apnews.com/article/bob-newhart-dead-799460b72b3c47e7aaf4eeb246f00b8c