Cathy's World: Will & Grace

LOS ANGELES, Feb. 20 (UPI) -- I went to Lance Loud's memorial service in West Hollywood last month and found myself thinking what a contrast there is between being gay on national television three decades ago and now.

Lance, who was a friend and neighbor, became an instant celebrity and de facto star of "An American Family," the 1973 PBS real-life soap opera, when he announced to his family, on camera, that he was gay.

The notoriety that came from this public revelation never left him. Lance told me he couldn't use LanceLoud as his AOL moniker because it already was taken by some pop culture parasite. He also was rather miffed about a band in San Francisco who named themselves The Loud Family.

Still, he played up his fanciful persona. Lance stopped by a couple of years ago to trim my lime tree and use the phone. At the time, L.A. was in the middle of a giant police brutality scandal.

"Hon-ee?" he said, leaving a message for a friend, "I hear they're serving tea and those cookies you like at the Ramparts Division this afternoon. So call me!"

Anyway, being gay on TV no longer packs the punch it once did.

When Rosie O'Donnell, who has long been circumspect about her sexuality, played the lesbian mother of effeminate Jack's sperm donor son on NBC's "Will & Grace" during sweeps this month, no one even blinked.

Even five years ago, when Ellen DeGeneres came out via her sitcom "Ellen," there was a bigger reaction.

Who would have ever thought that an in-your-face gay show like "Will & Grace" would develop into such a giant, mass-market hit? But it has, and in a strange way, it's also an utterly conventional one.

Despite the supposed riskiness of its gay theme, "Will & Grace" really breaks no new ground.

Characters don't address the (single) camera like in "Malcolm In the Middle," they're not animated like "The Simpsons," they don't juggle the story within different time frames like in "Grounded For Life."

Instead, four friends trade wisecracks and commit slapstick antics while rushing between a couple of New York apartments. Will and Grace and Jack and Karen are not that different from Lucy and Ricky and Fred and Ethel...except they're either gay (the guys), or straight but neurotic (the girls.)

And although audiences have protested edgy NBC shows like "God, the Devil & Bob" -- which was banned by more than a dozen NBC affiliates for blasphemy before being quickly canceled two years ago -- "Will & Grace" just keeps gaining ratings and fans.

The show has taken its own stab at theological irreverence. In one episode, Grace promised to dedicate herself to God if only she won a radio contest offering Joni Mitchell tickets.

"So," says Sean Hayes's irrepressible Jack, in sing-song, typically over-the-top tones. "Now what're you gonna do, Grace? You made a promise to the Big Girl upstairs. You don't wanna go to he-ell. You know what heat and sulfur does to your ha-air."

Oh, and lets not forget that Megan Mullally's Karen, the other beloved and "absolutely fabulous"-ish supporting character, is a shallow socialite who loathes her husband and children and constantly pops pills.

"As long as I'm popping pills, she'll be popping pills, just so you know," co-creator Max Mutchnick says.

Still, not a peep of protest. "The story behind 'Will & Grace' is there's no story," Mutchnick says, regarding acceptance of the show's overweening gayness.

Megan Mullally, who's from Oklahoma City and notes the show is remarkably popular even in her conservative home town, suggests that perhaps this is because "the gay-bashing is built in; the work is done for you."

Adds Mutchnick: "There's enough self-hatred on the writing staff. No one is more vicious to fags than fags."

Besides, he notes, "watch 'Frasier' if you wanna see a gay show."

Part of the appeal of "Will & Grace" is that its gay characters aren't limited to the two main archetypes: laywer Will, who can pass for straight, and his ultra-nelly friend, actor-waiter-whatever Jack.

The show's canvas has been filled out lately by a sharply drawn cast of minor characters. Two of my favorites are Will and Grace's neighbor Larry, who takes such endearingly fussy pleasure over housekeeping niceties.

"I cleaned it with baking soda and lemon!" Larry says proudly, returning a coffee urn. "I dried it on a cookie rack!"

Then there's Karen's nemesis, the tiny Southern terror Beverly Leslie, who seems inspired by Truman Capote with a little Strother Martin from "Cool Hand Luke" thrown in.

"I recognize the smell of gin and regret," Beverly says, spying Karen from across the room.

"Will & Grace" grew out of the demise of "Mad About You." NBC was looking to replace that series with another relationship sitcom.

Mutchnick and his writing partner, David Kohan, originally had pitched a show to Warren Littlefield, then NBC's programming chief, about three couples. Will and Grace were the neighbors, "and Warren, to his credit, said that Will and Grace were actually the most interesting people in the pilot," Mutchnick recalls.

Littlefield suggested Mutchnick and Kohan hook up with veteran sitcom director James Burrows, a notion the team initially resisted. Nevertheless, they agreed to a meeting. "[Burrows] said, 'You know, I think I wanna do it,'" recalls Mutchnick.

Kohan adds: "We were girding up to take this firm stand. But we looked each other in the eye and said, 'OK.' Any potential rough spots were smoothed over because James Burrows lent his stature to the project."

As it happens, all the leads eventually cast originally turned down "Will & Grace."

"I was scared of becoming a poster boy for people I had no right to speak for," says Erick McCormack, who is straight and plays Will.

"I was at Sundance and, frankly, I didn't have enough money to fly home for the audition," recalls Hayes.

"I was hibernating," says Debra Messing, who plays Will's best friend and roommate Grace, and who was at the time taking a rest from a recently finished bout of work.

"I said to my agent, 'I'm sleeping,' but the agent sent [the script] over anyway."

"I actually auditioned for Grace," says Mullally. "And when I auditioned for Karen they didn't remember."