Picks and Pans Review: Our House
"Family may be an old-fashioned word," Wilford (Cocoon) Brimley tells a fellow codger in the already aired premiere of his new series. "Well," Wilford allows, "I'm a little old-fashioned myself." Uh-oh. Looks like one of those "family shows." Call a syrup alert! Wilford's son dies before the series begins. The lucky stiff. Then Wilford, the grumpy gramps, opens his home to his poor, pouting daughter-in-law, Deidre (Days of Our Lives) Hall, his three spoiled grandkids and their smelly dog. Generation gaps ensue; sap flows. "People don't take me seriously because I'm a girl," one kid moans. "By golly," says Gramps, "I do!" I didn't think anybody this side of Brigadoon still said "By golly." Mind you, there's nothing wrong with family shows. But there's a lot wrong with this one: Gramps is a stereotype, Mom's an unbearable kvetch, the kids all deserve to be slapped and the script is manipulative. After tearing at your heartstrings, Our House tries to crochet them.