Unauthorized Full House': The Secrets! The Agony! The Olsens!, The Unauthorized Full House Story is the kind of TV-movie you’d make if you’d spent a week locked in a room watching all eight seasons of Full House. Brimming with intense sentimentality, cornball jokes, and a sense of scandal that wouldn’t have scandalized the preteen-era Olsen twins, Unauthorized Full House is a Lifetime movie that wants no viewer to walk away feeling the sitcom has been in any way traduced.
Indeed, writer Ron McGee treats Full House as though it was a sacred icon whose pop-culture history must be maintained at all costs — in this case, the costs being believability and narrative momentum. Full House was, of course, a harmless little family sitcom that became a big hit for ABC from 1987 to 1995, a linchpin for the network’s “TGIF” lineup of anodyne comedies, like Family Matters and Step By Step. All of these are shows I spent many hours watching with my own children; they offered mild entertainment with just enough sassiness to keep a young parent from dozing off with the kids nestled on either side of him. As a seasoned Full House viewer, therefore, I approached Unauthorized Full House with a certain baseline knowledge. I not only knew the premise of the series — Bob Saget’s Danny Tanner raising three kids with the help of two pals played by John Stamos and Dave Coulier — but also a bit of the backstory, such as the fact that Saget had previously been (and remains now) a stand-up comic with a delightfully dirty act, and that Stamos had a severe Beach Boys addiction for many years.
In UFH, directed by Brian K. Roberts, Saget is played by Garrett Brawith, who resembles more of a young Richard Lewis than Saget, but, really, one doesn’t go into a production like this hoping for the kind of bare-knuckled veracity that, say, John Michael Higgins brought to his searing portrayal of David Letterman in the immortal 1996 HBO production of The Late Shift.
Stamos is embodied by Justin Gaston, and Coulier by Justin Mader; neither actor is called upon to do much in the way of impersonation, but it must be said that Mader does not possess the tiny edge of manic that gave Coulier a very slight air of improvisational impishness. The young actors cast as the Full House children are to the manner born; in particular, the girls assigned to portray Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen convincingly capturing the waspish intelligence that would later blossom into those twin doyennes of the fashion world.
The movie lurches along amiably. Saget is reluctant to sign on at first because, as his pal Coulier says admiringly, “[You are] the filthiest-minded human being I know.” Stamos revels in his fame and bachelorhood as soon as the show becomes a hit, and gets to utter the line, “I really like Paula [Abdul]. She may be The One.” Coulier, for his part, never loses his fondness for passing gas at surprising times, invariably sending everyone within camera range into gasping laughter. The film also suggests that most of the male population on the show was in love to one degree or another with Lori Loughlin, which only seems American.
There are no scandals here, unless you consider the Olsens’ manager playing salary-negotiation hardball a character flaw, which would hardly be American.
Indeed, writer Ron McGee treats Full House as though it was a sacred icon whose pop-culture history must be maintained at all costs — in this case, the costs being believability and narrative momentum. Full House was, of course, a harmless little family sitcom that became a big hit for ABC from 1987 to 1995, a linchpin for the network’s “TGIF” lineup of anodyne comedies, like Family Matters and Step By Step. All of these are shows I spent many hours watching with my own children; they offered mild entertainment with just enough sassiness to keep a young parent from dozing off with the kids nestled on either side of him. As a seasoned Full House viewer, therefore, I approached Unauthorized Full House with a certain baseline knowledge. I not only knew the premise of the series — Bob Saget’s Danny Tanner raising three kids with the help of two pals played by John Stamos and Dave Coulier — but also a bit of the backstory, such as the fact that Saget had previously been (and remains now) a stand-up comic with a delightfully dirty act, and that Stamos had a severe Beach Boys addiction for many years.
In UFH, directed by Brian K. Roberts, Saget is played by Garrett Brawith, who resembles more of a young Richard Lewis than Saget, but, really, one doesn’t go into a production like this hoping for the kind of bare-knuckled veracity that, say, John Michael Higgins brought to his searing portrayal of David Letterman in the immortal 1996 HBO production of The Late Shift.
Stamos is embodied by Justin Gaston, and Coulier by Justin Mader; neither actor is called upon to do much in the way of impersonation, but it must be said that Mader does not possess the tiny edge of manic that gave Coulier a very slight air of improvisational impishness. The young actors cast as the Full House children are to the manner born; in particular, the girls assigned to portray Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen convincingly capturing the waspish intelligence that would later blossom into those twin doyennes of the fashion world.
The movie lurches along amiably. Saget is reluctant to sign on at first because, as his pal Coulier says admiringly, “[You are] the filthiest-minded human being I know.” Stamos revels in his fame and bachelorhood as soon as the show becomes a hit, and gets to utter the line, “I really like Paula [Abdul]. She may be The One.” Coulier, for his part, never loses his fondness for passing gas at surprising times, invariably sending everyone within camera range into gasping laughter. The film also suggests that most of the male population on the show was in love to one degree or another with Lori Loughlin, which only seems American.
There are no scandals here, unless you consider the Olsens’ manager playing salary-negotiation hardball a character flaw, which would hardly be American.
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