By Leigh Belz
September 28, 1999
When you watch Barry Williams on stage, it's difficult to discern
if he's a cynical showman who wants to make people laugh or a washed-up
child star who is still banking on 1969.
Was he on campus last Friday night to reminisce about the good old
Brady Bunch times or just to hock his new CD and sign $6 headshots? It
seemed like a bit of both.
The CUB-sponsored event drew a small crowd. About 150 people - a
bit under the advertised 650 of Williams' last visit to the college.
"I always liked The Brady Bunch," Tammie Pross, sophomore
elementary education/sociology major said. "But nobody else wanted to come
with me and when I said I was going to go, my friends said 'why?'"
But in all fairness, the people who did show up were really into
Barry and the Bunch.
"I've grown up with the Brady Bunch," said Robert Brown, an
English graduate student. "I'm interested to see what Greg - Barry - has
to say. You could say I have Brady fever."
The "Total Brady Experience" started a little after 8 p.m. with a
video montage of Brady Bunch moments. As the lights went on, Williams took
the stage and received a surprisingly loud reception from the audience.
He began with a lament - everyone still calls him Greg.
He went on to say that he was older and more mature and that he
was trying to move on with his life and career.
It seemed an ironic statement from a performer who has been
traveling the country with his Brady Bunch show, authored a book entitled
Growing Up Brady: I was a Teenage Greg and whose latest CD is
dubbed The Return of Johnny Bravo.
Sure Barry, you've moved on a bunch.
My criticism is not to say that Williams did not put on an
entertaining show. For $2, the audience got it's money's worth. But
throughout the performance, I couldn't help but feel like everything
Williams did conflicted with what he said.
Williams started his "lecture" with a brief story on how the show
got started. He said the bunch didn't officially meet until the first day
of filming and that, of course, he was immediately infatuated with young
Marcia (Maureen McCormick).
But though he and McCormick did eventually get somewhat hot and
heavy, (passionately kissing but not anything that would rock a
dressing-room trailer) Williams' first attempt at inter-Brady mating was
with his TV stepmom, Florence Henderson.
Williams said he took out Henderson - who at the time was married
with four kids - for dinner and got as far as a kiss on the cheek. That
was the end of their so-called relationship, he said.
As for Marcia, the two did officially date. Williams said it was
natural because they spent so much time together.
"There comes a time in every young man's life," he said, "where a
guy is pretty much always ready. Now in my case, I would pass by an
interesting pattern of wallpaper ... I was ready. Now scrunch me up
against Marcia for those tight nine shots and something is bound to come
up. And it did."
The audience wasn't happy with Williams' sex-less ending to the
Marcia story. "I wish it could have ended differently, but it didn't," he
said. "But if you're frustrated, please imagine how I feel."
He also dispelled some Brady rumors - no, Cindy was not on drugs
or in porno films.
Then, Williams moved on to the avalanche of Brady merchandise and
cross-genre marketing such as The Brady Bunch cartoon show, records and
the ill-fated '70s variety show, The Brady Bunch Hour.
He revealed that half of the Brady's weren't good singers - so the
studios just turned their microphones down. The worst culprit was the
inauspicious Peter Brady (Christopher Knight) who couldn't sing or master
any of the basic Brady moves. Mike Brady (Robert Reed) also gave up during
some of the dance numbers, Williams said.
As Williams told his tales, he acted them out (and hammed it up)
and showed clips of the dance numbers from the variety show.
He discussed the Brady reunion specials - most notably 1989's A
Very Brady Christmas. Williams deadpanned that the reason the special was
so successful was because of it's gripping plot.
"My favorite part - the most meaningful, dramatic and suspenseful
moment is when Dad, Mike Brady, is trapped by the rubble of a building at
a construction site - ironically, a building he did not build," he said.
The Bradys rush to the scene, he said, and try to get him out and
call the authorities, but to no avail. And then Carol Brady has an idea.
She starts singing "O Come All Ye Faithful." The rest of the family joins
in.
"And then, miraculously," Williams deadpanned, "from the bowels of
the earth comes Mike Brady, somewhat bruised, but in fine condition! And
we all get back just in time to have Alice's Christmas dinner."
It was during moments like these that Williams successfully
entertained even the most cynical of audience members. He was
self-deprecating and funny - the first to say how inherently cheesy some
of the show's plots were.
But then he would pull something suspicious. He would talk about
his book or, during the most awful part of the evening, he would sing.
Let me first say that Williams has a decent voice. There was
nothing wrong with that. It just seemed like singing Queen's "These are
the Days of Our Lives" mid-performance didn't have anything to do with the
Brady experience.
As he played karaoke, most people seemed to fidget around. One
audience member broke into hysterical laughter. The singing just didn't
fit into the show.
Moments like that made me question Williams' intentions - was he
here to reminisce about Greg or be an '80s cover diva? I couldn't figure
it out. I don't think Williams could either.