Bette Midler Plays the Role of Her Life--Literally

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Nor will she be ignored. In the pilot, she makes a big entrance--as if she's capable of any other kind--hyperventilating with stage fright before a show. "The biggest names in Hollywood, with their knives drawn!" she wails. "What if they hate me? They're gonna hate me!" She moans, she wheedles, she feigns deafness--then takes the stage and belts out Midler's signature song, Friends. The scene, meant to introduce her as a force of nature, has funny moments, but there's something offensive about a sitcom metafictionally begging you to love its star in its first three minutes. Make no mistake, Bette loves its lead, all too well. It indulges her with Lucy-esque slapstick (she wrestles an exercise machine! She bashes a block of frozen waffles!). It surrounds her with weak characters who merely react to her. It makes TV jokes ("Pretty soon I'll have my own series, and then I might just as well kill myself") that tell us how lucky we are that such a big star is visiting that little box in our humble living rooms.

The problem with Bette is not Bette but "Bette." Miss M is a perfect stage persona, high decibel enough to reach the cheap seats. But TV needs character, not caricature, and interplay, not vamping. When "Bette" sings Wind Beneath My Wings to make up to her hubby, Midler is really playing to the studio audience. If this were satire, like Grosse Pointe or even Cybill, it might show her character as a bit self-absorbed. But since Bette is at most a loving spoof, the message, in "Bette's" words, is "I'm a goddess!" Even if you agree, you may wish she'd dim down the halo.

CBS plugged Bette heavily during Survivor and hopes it will draw some of that summer hit's young viewers. That seems iffy, not because its star was born in the middle of the past century but because its premise was. From her start belting '40s show tunes in the '70s, Midler has been a revivalist at heart, and her hooray-for-Hollywood vehicle is Jack Benny redux, a wannabe I Love Lucy with Midler as both Lucy and Ricky but without the innovation of its forebears. That said, it has the ingredients of a much better show. The writing is sometimes sophisticated, but spotty. Here, there's a wry, if insider-y, one-liner: a weary Midler looks in the mirror and moans, "I look like the last 20 minutes of For the Boys," her 1991 drama about USO performers. Then there's a gay-flight-attendant cliche, surprisingly lame on a show from a longtime gay-community icon.

But it has the vivacious Midler, who could shine if her character broadens to let her stretch her skills, not just her vocal cords. Midler is an actress, after all, even if an ageist movie biz tends to forget that. As she says, "There is still a lot of life in this old girl. I think I'm funnier, look better and am better than ever before, and I think it's stupid to quit." Let's hope she doesn't. And let's hope Bette lets Bette be a better "Bette" yet.