Fame

FAME
Made by: NBC/MGM Television
Shown on: BBC1
Years shown: 1982-87

Forget Geri Halliwell prancing around in leg-warmers and torn-off retro sweatshirts, pretending to be sixteen years old. Oh, that's okay, we already have. Fame was the television spin-off of Alan Parker’s 1980 stage-school film of the same name, but the folks at NBC knew that in order for the show to be successful, they had to lose the gritty, seedy, exploitation-exposing side to it. Instead, the new class at New York’s La Guardia School of Performing Arts were, in the main, a wholesome, healthily ambitious bunch, who the audience followed through their lives as trainee thesps, divas and dancers. The programme was cancelled by NBC after its first season, and then re-launched by MGM Television, but it was always far more popular in the UK than its native land.

The main players were Bruno (Lee Curreri), a musical genius and a solid, dependable type; Coco Hernandez (Erica Gimpel), who did a bit of anything and had the most insatiable appetite for success; Leroy Johnson (Gene Anthony Ray, pictured above, and one of the few actors to reprise their film roles), a Brooklyn homie who cuts some funky moves; ballsy Doris Schwartz (Valerie Landsberg), who nearly had a thing with best bud, Bruno; and Montgomery MacNeil (P.R. Paul), a shy, red-haired musician. Fame also introduced the world to Lori Singer (playing straight-laced Julie Miller), who went on to woo Kevin Bacon in seminal 80s movie Footloose, and a certain Janet Jackson, who appeared as Cleo Hewitt in the 1984-5 series.

Yes, the kids danced on taxis and played their little hearts out; some had pushy mums, and some had deadbeat dads, but they kept on flashing those pearly whites in the face of expulsion. Actually, I thought Fame was great when I was five years old, and I have my brother to thank for me being able to watch it (while my friend wasn’t allowed to watch beyond the rousing opening titles.) My mum was so busy looking after him that she was temporarily unavailable to vet my viewing choices. Maybe if she had, she might have been able to allay my confusion when the kids’ version of The Wizard of Oz (which may have been a dream sequence, I suspect), was not the same one I was familiar with. Mum, why is Dorothy wearing white stilettos and a pink ra-ra skirt?

SQUARE EYES RATING: 7/10