One of my favorite television shows of all time is “Bewitched”. I’ve seen every episode of the classic series at least 20 times and can tell the difference between a complete episode, an early syndicated version, an 80s syndicated version or a TV Land edited version just by the flow of the scenes and the presence of key scripted lines. (Syndicated copies have lines and sometimes complete scenes edited out to make room for more commercials.)
As a Bewitched fanatic, I’ve done a lot of reading and collecting over the years of various Bewitched memorabilia. I hope to have the opportunity to visit the famous Stephens house on a Hollywood backlot in Burbank someday. I wish I had the opportunity to shake hands with Elizabeth Montgomery and the other players to thank them for their contribution to mainstream America.
It’s a fun show to watch.
While I’ve always been enchanted with the beautiful Elizabeth Montgomery, over the years I’ve come to appreciate the work ethic displayed by and later documented about the mysterious Agnes Moorehead. A character actor if there ever was one, Ms. Moorehead found no role too tough to tackle and she always put every ounce of her ability into the task, even if it was just a small part on “Love American Style”.
Her take on her craft was simple. “I love the illusion”, she would say with a big flamboyant wave of her arms. She believed that one should always work; be it good or bad, do it to the best of your ability and learn something from it and be a better person because of it.
I like to think that I’ve learned that myself over the years.
Tonight I watched a couple of episodes of Bewitched from the third season, “It’s Wishcraft” and “The Crone of Cawdor”, both stand-out episodes from a particularly strong time for the series. (Even at it’s worst, “Bewitched”, and most comedies of it’s time, far surpassed anything we see on television today). I couldn’t help but notice that Ms. Moorehead was always attentive and always playing Endora, even if she was in the background of a particular scene, far from the focus of the camera. She took her job seriously, she played it to the max and she did it well.
I think that’s a nice approach to have about work come tomorrow morning.
Rest in peace Elizabeth, Dick, Dick and Agnes. We miss you.
