Let's appreciate the works of Miller-Boyett

As appreciators of fine art, we like our eccentrics. We enjoy the unrestrained antics of creative minds, whose output makes our dull lives worth living. We suffer the egotistical demands and strange attitudes in the hope that, ultimately, it will result in a work which will change the way we see the world. Far too often, however, we ignore the persons behind the scenes: the accountants, the lawyers, the paper-pushers that allow artists to live their unfettered lifestyles. Without them, we wouldn't have the great works that constitute our cultural relevance. I would like to take a moment to appreciate one of these minds behind the mind: the television production company known as Miller-Boyett.

They originally began in 1969 as Miller-Milkis Productions, and set about producing a few forgettable made-for-TV movies. This duo hit paydirt in 1974 when they produced a sitcom for ABC named Happy Days. Banking off the nostalgia generated by the successful film American Graffiti, Thomas Miller and Edward Milkis may have realized, at that moment, that the secret to making long-lasting, lucrative television shows is to make them as bland an inoffensive as possible. Pull the audience's heartstrings and have a good laugh track. Robert Boyett was brought to the team, and together the trio developed more hits, like Laverne & Shirley in 1976 and Mork and Mindy in 1978.

I'm not sure what caused Edward Milkis to leave the team, so I'll just make something up: late in 1979, the young upstart Boyett--a full nine years younger than Milkis--had an idea. A lascivious, dirty, nasty idea. On a dry-erase board in his garage, he began calculating the most diabolically clever television program in history: one part The Odd Couple, two parts Texaco Star Theater (starring the cross-dresser Milton Berle), and a dash of Rhoda to make it contemporary. What he came up with was the plot for the criminally underrated sitcom Bosom Buddies, starring the comic duo of Tom Hanks and Peter Scolari. Milkis was furious; he didn't take a load of shrapnel in his ass in Korea so two fancy boys could parade around on television in women's clothing. Tom Miller, however, only being two years older than Boyett, loved the idea. Miller and Boyett parted ways with Ed Milkis in 1980, and never looked back.

Together, Miller-Boyett created mediocre hit after mediocre hit, each time ripping off elements of other successful television programs. There was Perfect Strangers, a kind of Odd Couple with more sex appeal. There was Full House, an unholy mix of My Three Sons, The Brady Bunch, and My Two Dads. There was Valerie, which began as a vehicle for television actor Valerie Harper. Then she got uppity and was replaced by Sandy Duncan. The show was re-titled The Hogan Family, and ratings soared even higher.

Miller-Boyett were true geniuses of the prime-time sitcom, and the crown jewel of their achievements is none other than Family Matters, a show which relied on practically every sitcom device ever invented. There was the henpecked, fat father; the grating but even-keeled wife; the nosy grandmother; the annoying next-door neighbor. There was even a single mother in the form of Rachel, the wife's sister, who struggled between raising a boy on her own, and wanting to go on dates with as many men as possible (but NOT get laid--never that). As this show gained popularity, the dynamic team of Miller-Boyett showed their production prowess by never being afraid to can actors, even those central to the theme of the show. What began as the touching story of family life in suburban Chicago morphed into the ridiculously unbelievable antics of Steven Q. Urkel, a character who, during the life of the show, was made to impersonate Bruce Lee no fewer than three times. Miller-Boyett, we salute thee.