Supernatural Suburbs: The Weird Wives of 60s Sitcoms
by Karen A. Romanko
The women of 60s fantasy sitcoms embraced domesticity, seemingly unaware of the cautions offered by Betty Friedan in her book The Feminine Mystique (1963). But while these characters pursued the role of traditional stay-at-home mom, they moved away, far away, from the model set by June Cleaver and her omnipresent strand of pearls. In fact, starting in 1964, magic and mystery entered the suburbs, brought there by powerful women, who were too wonderfully weird to conform to their staid surroundings.
Samantha Stephens (Elizabeth Montgomery) was a beautiful newlywed, who confessed to her husband Darrin (Dick York) on their wedding night that she was a witch in Bewitched (1964-1972). Samantha promised to become a model suburban wife in true early-60s, pre-women’s liberation style—no witchcraft allowed. That promise didn’t last long, however, when Sam used her powers to get revenge against a haughty ex-girlfriend of Darrin’s in “I, Darrin, Take This Witch, Samantha” (1964), the pilot episode for the series. As if one strangely powerful woman wasn’t enough of a challenge to Darrin’s sanity, Samantha presented Darrin with the mother-in-law of all mother-in-laws in Endora (Agnes Moorehead), a strong-willed witch who disapproved of Samantha’s marriage to a mortal. Endora explained why domestic bliss wasn’t right for a witch like Samantha in “Be It Ever So Mortgaged” (1964): "Our home has no boundaries beyond which we cannot pass. We live in music, in a flash of color. We live on the wind, in the sparkle of a star."
Endora, who frequently used magic in her attempts to split the couple apart, wasn’t Samantha’s only relative prone to magical mischief. Samantha’s look-alike cousin Serena (Elizabeth Montgomery credited as “Pandora Spocks”) frequently “made the scene” with her free-spirited ways, while adorable, but forgetful Aunt Clara (Emmy winner Marion Lorne), often dropped in, usually literally. Baby Tabitha (Erin Murphy) soon joined the Stephens household and quickly revealed that she took after Samantha’s side of the family, causing problems when she couldn’t control her nascent “wishcraft.” Despite her complicated domestic situation, Samantha made a go of it (just barely) in the suburbs, showing she would not be moved in the tug-of-war for her loyalty between Darrin and Endora.
Morticia Addams (Carolyn Jones) was another typical mother of the 60s, typical, that is, if your address is 0001 Cemetery Lane. In The Addams Family (1964-1966), Morticia wore a long black dress with fabric tentacles at the bottom of its “hobble skirt,” and still sparked ardor in husband Gomez (John Astin), moving him to uncontrollable (G-rated) passion when she spoke French. Morticia could ignite more than passion, however, when she lit candles with her fingertips, and she loved a good smoke, no cigarettes required, as the smoke emanated directly from her body. Mrs. Addams was a woman of refinement, who specialized in cultivating roses, which she beheaded, preferring to admire their beautiful thorns. She kept a watchful eye on her children, Pugsley (Ken Weatherwax) and Wednesday (Lisa Loring), protecting them from life’s cruelties, such as accounts of dragon-slaying in fairy tales: “What a lovely name, Grimm. How could he write such terrible stories?”
The clash of cultures for Morticia, Gomez, and the rest of their creepy and “kooky, mysterious and spooky” clan, was not within their family, however, but with the outside world, which came to call upon them regularly in the form of truant officers, salespeople, burglars, and even spies. Morticia and Gomez were soulmates and equal partners, who welcomed these visitors with open arms and the occasional disembodied hand.
Lily Munster (Yvonne De Carlo) also pursued the typical 60s role of housewife, although her “cleaning” routine involved spreading trash and cobwebs around the house in The Munsters (1964-1966). Lily was the daughter of Dracula, a.k.a. “Grandpa” (Al Lewis), the wife of the Frankenstein monster, here named Herman Munster (Fred Gwynne), the mother of Eddie (Butch Patrick), a werewolf (don’t try to figure out those genetics), and the aunt of Marilyn (Pat Priest). Marilyn was a “plain” girl in the eyes of her family, but a blonde knockout (à la Marilyn Monroe) to the rest of the world.
Most of the humor is of the culture-clash variety here too, as in “Far out Munsters” (1965), when a rock group rents out the Munster manse for a weekend (pre-Airbnb), but the family returns home because their hotel room is horrifyingly clean. The Munsters crash the “long hair” fun at the party, and everyone performs, including Lily, who plays the harp and sings “He’s Gone Away” in a standout performance by De Carlo.
Family sitcoms had changed so much in the scant 15 months since June (Barbara Billingsley) and the Cleaver clan had left the air on Leave It to Beaver (1957-1963). It was a sign the times were changing, even if those changes were expressed allegorically. Still, it’s fun to imagine how June would have fared with an Aunt Clara instead of an Aunt Martha, or a Pugsley instead of The Beave. Maybe she would have decapitated a few roses too.
The women of 60s fantasy sitcoms embraced domesticity, seemingly unaware of the cautions offered by Betty Friedan in her book The Feminine Mystique (1963). But while these characters pursued the role of traditional stay-at-home mom, they moved away, far away, from the model set by June Cleaver and her omnipresent strand of pearls. In fact, starting in 1964, magic and mystery entered the suburbs, brought there by powerful women, who were too wonderfully weird to conform to their staid surroundings.
Samantha Stephens (Elizabeth Montgomery) was a beautiful newlywed, who confessed to her husband Darrin (Dick York) on their wedding night that she was a witch in Bewitched (1964-1972). Samantha promised to become a model suburban wife in true early-60s, pre-women’s liberation style—no witchcraft allowed. That promise didn’t last long, however, when Sam used her powers to get revenge against a haughty ex-girlfriend of Darrin’s in “I, Darrin, Take This Witch, Samantha” (1964), the pilot episode for the series. As if one strangely powerful woman wasn’t enough of a challenge to Darrin’s sanity, Samantha presented Darrin with the mother-in-law of all mother-in-laws in Endora (Agnes Moorehead), a strong-willed witch who disapproved of Samantha’s marriage to a mortal. Endora explained why domestic bliss wasn’t right for a witch like Samantha in “Be It Ever So Mortgaged” (1964): "Our home has no boundaries beyond which we cannot pass. We live in music, in a flash of color. We live on the wind, in the sparkle of a star."
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| Samantha (Elizabeth Montgomery) and her mother Endora (Agnes Moorehead) |
Endora, who frequently used magic in her attempts to split the couple apart, wasn’t Samantha’s only relative prone to magical mischief. Samantha’s look-alike cousin Serena (Elizabeth Montgomery credited as “Pandora Spocks”) frequently “made the scene” with her free-spirited ways, while adorable, but forgetful Aunt Clara (Emmy winner Marion Lorne), often dropped in, usually literally. Baby Tabitha (Erin Murphy) soon joined the Stephens household and quickly revealed that she took after Samantha’s side of the family, causing problems when she couldn’t control her nascent “wishcraft.” Despite her complicated domestic situation, Samantha made a go of it (just barely) in the suburbs, showing she would not be moved in the tug-of-war for her loyalty between Darrin and Endora.
Morticia Addams (Carolyn Jones) was another typical mother of the 60s, typical, that is, if your address is 0001 Cemetery Lane. In The Addams Family (1964-1966), Morticia wore a long black dress with fabric tentacles at the bottom of its “hobble skirt,” and still sparked ardor in husband Gomez (John Astin), moving him to uncontrollable (G-rated) passion when she spoke French. Morticia could ignite more than passion, however, when she lit candles with her fingertips, and she loved a good smoke, no cigarettes required, as the smoke emanated directly from her body. Mrs. Addams was a woman of refinement, who specialized in cultivating roses, which she beheaded, preferring to admire their beautiful thorns. She kept a watchful eye on her children, Pugsley (Ken Weatherwax) and Wednesday (Lisa Loring), protecting them from life’s cruelties, such as accounts of dragon-slaying in fairy tales: “What a lovely name, Grimm. How could he write such terrible stories?”
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| Gomez (John Astin) and Morticia (Carolyn Jones) |
The clash of cultures for Morticia, Gomez, and the rest of their creepy and “kooky, mysterious and spooky” clan, was not within their family, however, but with the outside world, which came to call upon them regularly in the form of truant officers, salespeople, burglars, and even spies. Morticia and Gomez were soulmates and equal partners, who welcomed these visitors with open arms and the occasional disembodied hand.
Lily Munster (Yvonne De Carlo) also pursued the typical 60s role of housewife, although her “cleaning” routine involved spreading trash and cobwebs around the house in The Munsters (1964-1966). Lily was the daughter of Dracula, a.k.a. “Grandpa” (Al Lewis), the wife of the Frankenstein monster, here named Herman Munster (Fred Gwynne), the mother of Eddie (Butch Patrick), a werewolf (don’t try to figure out those genetics), and the aunt of Marilyn (Pat Priest). Marilyn was a “plain” girl in the eyes of her family, but a blonde knockout (à la Marilyn Monroe) to the rest of the world.
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| Herman (Fred Gwynne) and Lily (Yvonne De Carlo) |
Most of the humor is of the culture-clash variety here too, as in “Far out Munsters” (1965), when a rock group rents out the Munster manse for a weekend (pre-Airbnb), but the family returns home because their hotel room is horrifyingly clean. The Munsters crash the “long hair” fun at the party, and everyone performs, including Lily, who plays the harp and sings “He’s Gone Away” in a standout performance by De Carlo.
Family sitcoms had changed so much in the scant 15 months since June (Barbara Billingsley) and the Cleaver clan had left the air on Leave It to Beaver (1957-1963). It was a sign the times were changing, even if those changes were expressed allegorically. Still, it’s fun to imagine how June would have fared with an Aunt Clara instead of an Aunt Martha, or a Pugsley instead of The Beave. Maybe she would have decapitated a few roses too.
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Loved reading this! Wonderfully weird is an apt description!
ReplyDeleteThanks! We’re wonderfully weird too! 😂😍
DeleteFantastic
ReplyDeleteThanks! 🌷
DeleteWas so nice to see the progress of women on the screen. So love weird
ReplyDelete