All Praise to the Creator: Remembering David Jacobs

Larry Hagman, Linda Gray

First couple

J.R. Ewing’s daddy was Jock Ewing, but his father was David Jacobs. In 1977, Jacobs, then a 38-year-old TV script editor, sat in front of a blank page and created “Dallas,” the series that would go on to change television forever. He once said it took him just three days to write the first episode, and even though his producing partner, Michael Filerman, gave “Dallas” its title, everything else sprang from the mind of David Jacobs — with a nod to influences like “Romeo & Juliet” and the 1957 big-screen potboiler “No Down Payment.” Isn’t it remarkable that the characters and concepts Jacobs conceived during the course of those 72 hours — J.R., Bobby, Sue Ellen, Southfork Ranch, Ewing Oil, the Barnes-Ewing feud — are still sustaining our imaginations, 45 years later?

Jacobs’ death last week at age 84 means the “Dallas” universe has lost its most critical figure. Yes, he left the series early in its run to focus on “Knots Landing,” the spinoff he also created. And yes, it ultimately took a company of talented writers, directors, actors and crew members to turn “Dallas” into the global phenomenon it became. But none of it would have happened if Jacobs hadn’t created the thing in the first place. It all starts with him.

In fact, it probably isn’t enough to say David Jacobs created “Dallas.” He also deserves some credit for the way stories are told on television today. Before the Ewings, prime time was dominated by static heroes whose exploits were entirely episodic: Each week, Mannix solved a new crime, Marcus Welby saved a new patient. Jacobs believed serialization — long the purview of daytime soap operas — could work in prime time, too. Likewise, he dared to populate “Dallas” with flawed, textured characters who were capable of evolution. It was a formula that would be replicated by shows like “Hill Street Blues” and “ER,” and later, “The Sopranos” and “Better Call Saul.”

David Jacobs

The creator

Jacobs was a visionary in other ways, too. In 1986, before “prequel” became a Hollywood term of art, Jacobs gave us “Dallas: The Early Years,” a three-hour chronicle of the origins of the Barnes-Ewing feud. Later, when “Knots Landing” went off the air in 1993, he was interviewed in TV Guide and talked about someday bringing the show and its core cast back for a sequel series. At the time, TV reunion movies were common, but no one was reviving shows on a weekly basis. Now look at the television landscape. Name a series that hasn’t been raised from the dead in one form or another.

By some accounts, it took Jacobs a while to feel proud of “Dallas.” Perhaps this has to do with the fact that, while he created the show, other people — most notably, producer Leonard Katzman — played a more direct role in shaping it. “Dallas” and “Knots Landing” were also kind of rivals during their heyday, with some fans of the spinoff asserting it was the superior show. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, of course, but I don’t think there’s any question “Dallas” has better withstood the test of time. After all, despite what Jacobs mused about in 1993, it was “Dallas,” not “Knots Landing,” that was ultimately revived as a weekly series.

As a kid, I grew up admiring producers like Jacobs and Katzman as much as I did actors like Larry Hagman and Linda Gray. I would see Jacobs’ name at the end of the “Dallas” opening credits each week, floating in the air as the camera soared over Southfork, and think: Who is this man? How did he create this show? What does that even mean? After my parents bought me a typewriter for my 10th birthday, I spent hours at the kitchen table, pecking out my own “Dallas” stories. I still didn’t really understand what David Jacobs did for a living, but I knew I wanted to be like him someday.

That never happened, but at least I got to interview him twice: once in the aftermath of Larry Hagman’s death, and again for my oral history of “Swan Song,” my favorite “Dallas” episode. He was kind and gracious each time we spoke, always full of insight and always willing to answer every question I had. During that first conversation, I thanked him for creating something that has meant so much to me and so many other fans, and he conceded that while “Dallas” was a “guilty pleasure” for him during its original run, he eventually came to appreciate the show. “‘Dallas’ became the model for all the continuing dramas that followed and are now dominant, so it really did change television in a very not-so-subtle, real way,” he said. “And I like that.”

So did we, Mr. Jacobs.

Share your comments below and read more opinions from Dallas Decoder.

Decoding ‘Dallas,’ 10 Years Later

Dallas, Dallas Decoder, J.R. Ewing, Larry Hagman

Still decoding

I started the Dallas Decoder website 10 years ago today. It was the beginning of one of the most exhilarating — and most exhausting — times of my life.

Seriously.

I got hooked on “Dallas” as a kid in the 1980s, but I never expected to continue my fandom into adulthood. By 2011, though, I was bored with my career and in need of a hobby, so when TNT announced plans to revive “Dallas” as a weekly series, I thought: What the hell? Why not spend my free time writing about a show that had meant so much to me?

From the beginning, I knew I wanted to take a critical look at “Dallas” — to celebrate it, yes, but also to dissect it and try to determine the secret of its appeal. My initial plan was to post a critique of a “Dallas” episode every weekday; after about a year and a half, I’d be done with all 357 hours and ready to move on to something new.

That’s not how things worked out.

My first critique went live on April 2, 2012 — the 34th anniversary of “Dallas’s” debut. Things were quiet for the first few months, but as TNT cranked up the publicity machine for the new “Dallas,” traffic to Dallas Decoder started climbing. The hype surrounding the new show seemed to be bringing people to my website. It occurred to me that I should probably write about TNT’s “Dallas” as well, so when those episodes started airing that June, I began critiquing them, too.

That’s when interest in Dallas Decoder really picked up. I soon found myself writing about the new show more than the original series — and not just episode critiques, either. I interviewed the TNT show’s stars and some of the creative people behind the scenes. I started live tweeting each broadcast and began hosting weekly #DallasChat sessions with my fellow fans and chatting with the regulars in the Dallas Decoder comments section, where we built our own little community. I even got to visit the set and see how the new show was made.

Before long, Dallas Decoder began to feel like a part-time job. Don’t get me wrong; I loved every minute of it. But there were more than a few occasions where my husband Andrew wanted to, you know, leave the house — go to dinner, see a movie, hang out with friends — and I begged off. I had too much “Dallas” work to do!

After TNT canceled the new show and the #SaveDallas campaign went bust, I shifted my focus back to writing about the original series. I critiqued my all-time favorite episode, “Swan Song,” and even published an oral history to go along with it, but after four years of writing about “Dallas” all the time, I was worn out. I hit the pause button on Dallas Decoder, fully intending to return in a few months and pick up where I left off.

That didn’t work out as planned, either.

Life, as it has a way of doing, had other things in mind for me. I took on more responsibility at work and at home. I discovered new hobbies. I even started leaving the house again with Andrew (although a global pandemic came along and took care of that soon enough).

But even though I don’t write about “Dallas” like I used to, the show is never far from my thoughts. I drink my coffee from a Southfork mug every morning. I pass my husband’s J.R. and Sue Ellen Lego portraits every time I go down the hall. I even spent several years working on a “Dallas” script — my vision for how the Ewing saga should continue. It was more work than I imagined, but it was also a lot of fun. And yes, I still watch “Dallas.” Just last month, Andrew and I began revisiting old episodes every Friday night. The show still holds up.

I think about Dallas Decoder a lot, too. I’ll always be thankful to the support I received from all the people connected with “Dallas,” including Rachel Sage Kunin, the wonderful costume designer from the TNT series, and Linda Gray, who really is the kindest, wisest person you’ll ever meet. I’m also thankful to all the regulars from the Dallas Decoder comments section and #DallasChat. I miss you all.

Will I ever get back to writing about “Dallas” regularly? I hope so. I still have 157 episodes left to critique, and as a compulsive list-maker, I don’t like leaving things undone. I’m also not getting any younger; when I look in the mirror these days, it sometimes seems like Wes Parmalee is staring back at me.

Besides, I still don’t think I’ve fully cracked the mystery of “Dallas.” In one of my first posts 10 years ago today, I expressed my hope that Dallas Decoder might help me “figure out, once and for all, why I love the show as much as I do.” I’m no closer to an answer now than I was then. What is it about this show that keeps me coming back? The nostalgia? The camp? Something else?

Truly, I don’t know. Maybe someday I will.

Why do you love “Dallas”? Share your comments below and read more opinions from Dallas Decoder.

Who Hung J.R.? We Did!

Dallas, JR Ewing, Larry Hagman, Lego

Square one

Today marks the 40th anniversary of “Dallas’s” famous “Who Shot J.R.?” revelation, and I’m marking the occasion with a special tribute to Larry Hagman.

This Lego portrait of the late, great “Dallas” star was created by my husband Andrew, who employed the same method he used to create a portrait of Linda Gray’s Sue Ellen Ewing a few years ago.

First, Andrew found a shot of J.R. that he liked — it comes from a BVD underwear ad that Hagman did in the 1980s — and used a software program to digitize it. Andrew then recreated the image with Lego, affixing the little plastic bricks to six plates that form a complete picture when joined together.

By the way: The software automatically turned J.R.’s face a devilish shade of red, and after we had the portrait framed, we discovered there’s a counterfeit Lego brick among all the real ones. (How fitting!) And while most of the bricks are red, white and yellow, there is a single blue brick in ol’ J.R.’s right eye and another in his hat.

This is Andrew’s fourth “Dallas” Lego project: In addition to the Sue Ellen portrait, he created a Southfork playset and a diorama of the “Who Shot J.R.?” scene.

The 45-inch-by-30-inch J.R. portrait now hangs next to Sue Ellen’s at Dallas Decoder World Headquarters in Washington, D.C. It’s nice to see them together again, don’t you think?

Dallas, JR Ewing, Larry Hagman, Linda Gray, Sue Ellen Ewing

Hanging out

Brick by Brick: Dallas Decoder’s Lego Tribute to Southfork

Welcome home

“Dallas” debuted on this day 42 years ago, and I can think of no better way to mark the occasion than with another Lego tribute from my husband, Andrew.

After creating a Sue Ellen portrait made of his childhood Legos and a “Who Shot J.R.?” playset, Andrew has built his own Southfork, complete with minifigs to represent the Ewings and all their friends — and a few of their enemies, of course.

Andrew spent a long time designing the house, carefully considering details like the angle to pitch the roof. It took him even longer to build the thing, especially since he had to track down some of the more obscure pieces online. (Who knew there was an underground market for Legos?)

In addition to recreating the outside of Southfork — including the arch over the driveway, the swimming pool and the yellow-and-white patio furniture — Andrew recreated some of “Dallas’s” most famous settings, like the foyer, dining room and the bedrooms of J.R. and Sue Ellen and Bobby and Pam.

Fitting all those rooms into the house wasn’t easy. The Hollywood sets from the TV series don’t exactly align with the exteriors of the real-life Southfork in Texas, making this project like our own version of HGTV’s “A Very Brady Renovation.” Andrew made it work, though, and even came up with the clever idea to put one wing of the house on a hinge so you can “swing” it to the side to get a better look at the interiors.

(This also allowed us to come up with my favorite feature of all: The hinge splits J.R. and Sue Ellen’s bed down the middle, so whenever the couple has a fight, she can swing her half of the bed into a whole other room. It’s just like when she used to move across the hall from J.R. in the ’80s!)

Andrew also carefully chose minifigs that resemble the actors. The Lego J.R. has Larry Hagman’s mischievous twinkle, and I especially love how Andrew dressed Sue Ellen in black and white, just like the iconic dress Linda Gray wore in “Who Done It?,” the episode that resolved the “Who Shot J.R.?” cliffhanger. (The Lego Miss Ellie is a little more Donna Reed than Barbara Bel Geddes, but oh well.)

Together, Andrew and I have had a lot of fun staging some of “Dallas’s” most famous scenes. Check out the gallery below, and be sure to let us know what you think in the comments.

Join Us for a ‘Who Shot J.R.?’ #DallasChat on March 23

Dallas, #DallasChat, Larry Hagman

Heard the news? #DallasChat is back!

You know what the world could use right now? Some old-fashioned “Dallas” fun.

In that spirit, I’m going to host a #DallasChat Twitter discussion on Monday, March 23, from 8 to 9 p.m. Eastern time.

Since we just marked the 40th anniversary of the “Who Shot J.R.?” cliffhanger, our discussion will be centered around that theme.

Here’s how #DallasChat works: Throughout the hour, I’ll tweet 10 questions from my Twitter handle, @DallasDecoder. Participants respond to the questions and comment on each other’s answers, making it a big, freewheeling conversation.

Here are three tips:

•Each #DallasChat question is numbered (Q1, Q2, etc.), so your responses should include the corresponding number (A1, A2, etc.).

• Include the hashtag #DallasChat in all of your tweets.

• During the discussion, enter #DallasChat in Twitter’s search field. This will help you watch the search results so you can follow the conversation. Click “Latest” to see all the related tweets.

I look forward to chatting with you. See you then!

Got suggestions for #DallasChat questions? Leave them in the comments below.

Play It Again, Darlin’: A Lego Salute to ‘Who Shot J.R.?’

Who Shot JR 1

Big bang

Today marks the 40th anniversary of “Dallas’s” famous “Who Shot J.R.?” cliffhanger, and Dallas Decoder is honoring the occasion with an all-new Lego tribute.

My husband, Andrew, has created a playset that shows everyone’s favorite dastardly oil baron, J.R. Ewing, getting what’s coming to him.

The set combines the final moments of “A House Divided,” the episode that kicked off the “Who Shot J.R.?” mystery on March 21, 1980, with the opening of “No More Mr. Nice Guy,” the following season’s opener, and the flashback that reveals J.R.’s assailant at the end of “Who Done It?”, one of the most-watched broadcasts in TV history.

The scene, set in J.R.’s office, features three minifigs: the stunned J.R.; the gal about to pull the trigger, Kristin, his jilted mistress; and Ewing Oil’s rattled cleaning lady, who discovered our hero after Kristin’s dirty deed was done.

Andrew took great care to find minifigs that resembled the actors and their costumes: Larry Hagman’s J.R., complete with his vest; Mary Crosby’s devil-in-the-blue-dress Kristin; and even Virginia Peters, who played the bandana-wearing, duster-wielding cleaning lady whose scream upon discovering J.R. has been a source of amusement in our house for years.

Andrew designed the office with many of the props depicted in the room during the original “Dallas’s” 14-season run, including the oversized Texas wall map, the oil rig model and the bar. He also included a picture of Southfork (itself rendered in Lego) and a desk portrait of J.R.’s long-suffering wife, Sue Ellen — which you might recognize as a miniature version of his Lego tribute to Linda Gray from 2018.

I hope you enjoy Andrew’s creation, and in true “Dallas” style, I’m ending this post with a cliffhanger of my own: a promise to show you his Lego Southfork someday soon.

Stay tuned.

A Farewell to Barnes: Remembering Ken Kercheval

Cliff Barnes, Dallas, Ken Kercheval

Lone star

Cliff Barnes was a loser, but Ken Kercheval was anything but. By portraying Cliff as an endearing jackass, Kercheval won the hearts of “Dallas” fans and created a character who, in some ways, was as essential to the show’s success as Larry Hagman’s J.R. Ewing. Cliff could be petty, foolish and hopelessly oblivious, but Kercheval brought so much humanity to the role, you couldn’t help but like the schmuck. Deep down, I bet some of us even rooted for him.

Kercheval’s death this week has unleashed a torrent of Cliff clips on social media, reminding everyone how good he was in his career-defining role. Talk about an actor with range! Cliff was the bumbling nemesis who prompted many of J.R.’s most memorable quips (“Oh Barnes, you just get dumber and dumber every day”) and the unlikely lothario who treated so many of the show’s leading ladies like Texas dirt, but he also was the wounded soul who sweetly reconciled with his runaway mama over a bowl of licorice; the protective big brother who knowingly winced when he heard the radio bulletin announcing that Pam’s true love Bobby had been mowed down in her driveway; the humbled avenger who sat on a park bench with Miss Ellie and sought forgiveness for waging war on her family. In the hands of a lesser actor, Cliff would have been just another soap opera character whose motivations changed with the wind. Kercheval made him real.

The true secret to Cliff’s appeal, though, lay in his rivalry with J.R. With the exception of Patrick Duffy and perhaps Hayden Rourke, did Larry Hagman ever have a better on-screen foil than Ken Kercheval? I couldn’t possibly pick a favorite scene between J.R. and Cliff, but their schoolyard showdown-style exchange of insults in the 1984 episode “And the Winner Is …” stands out. Kercheval and Hagman are fire and ice here: While Cliff rages (“You can’t stand the fact that Barnes-Wentworth is going to be bigger than Ewing ever dreamed of being!”), J.R. stands his ground, calmly burrowing ever deeper under Cliff’s skin (“You’re going to bankrupt your mama’s company and wind up just like your daddy: a drunk and a bum”). Despite all the bluster, Kercheval always injected a hint of envy into his performance, letting the audience see that Cliff didn’t want to beat J.R.; he wanted to be J.R. Once you realize that’s where Cliff is coming from, how can you not feel for the poor slob? After all, who among us doesn’t want to be J.R.?

Cliff Barnes, Dallas, J.R. Ewing, Ken Kercheval, Larry Hagman

Mutual admiration society

Truth be told, I think J.R. secretly admired Cliff’s tenacity, although like his character, Kercheval never got the respect he deserved. Despite being the show’s most delightfully unpredictable performer — you didn’t watch Ken Kercheval, you experienced him — he never scored an Emmy. (Neither did Hagman, but at least he got nominated.) Just as puzzlingly, Kercheval was in “Dallas” from the beginning and did as much as anyone to transform the show into a hit, yet he wasn’t promoted to the opening credits until the third season. Of course, once he finally showed up, the close-ups chosen for his three-way split screen captured the character in all his multi-faceted glory: Confused Cliff, Chipper Cliff, Crabby Cliff. Perfect.

Regardless, Kercheval ended up getting the last laugh. Besides Hagman, he was the only member of the cast to appear in all 14 seasons of the original series before going on to appear in the first reunion movie and all three seasons of TNT’s sequel series. Altogether, Kercheval logged 360 hours of “Dallas” across its various incarnations, second only to Hagman, who clocked more than 380 hours. And while Cliff never became an icon like J.R., Kercheval’s character made his mark in popular culture nonetheless. A Washington Post editorial once derided then-Vice President George H.W. Bush as “the Cliff Barnes of American politics — blustering, opportunistic, craven and hopelessly ineffective all at once” (ouch). Kercheval also deserves credit for making pocket squares seem so stylish in the 1980s — and is it possible his cheapskate character did more to popularize Chinese food in the American diet than Panda Express?

It’s been touching to see so many of Kercheval’s former cast mates honor him online this week, especially Audrey Landers, whose Afton Cooper did so much to humanize Cliff, and Julie Gonzalo, who holds the distinction of being the last “Dallas” actor to share a scene with Kercheval during the final season of the TNT series. Linda Gray, Charlene Tilton and both of Kercheval’s on-screen sisters, Victoria Principal and Morgan Brittany, also wrote nice things about him, along with Leigh McCloskey. As far as I can remember, McCloskey’s character, pretty-boy plastic surgeon Dr. Mitch Cooper, never shared a meaningful moment with Cliff, yet McCloskey penned a lovely tribute to Kercheval on Facebook, remembering how kind the actor was to him when he joined the cast. Everyone, it seems, had affection for “Kenny.”

Tributes like these are a reminder that while the rest of us have lost a favorite TV star, the cast members are mourning the death of an old friend. Kercheval somewhat famously used to say he never watched “Dallas” when it was on the air. As he explained when I interviewed him in 2012, once he played a scene in front of the cameras, he felt no compulsion to tune in on Friday night and watch it. But Kercheval also talked about how much he enjoyed working with actors like Gray, Landers and his close pal Barbara Bel Geddes, and he expressed amazement that people still recognized him as Cliff, even when he traveled abroad. I didn’t include this in the published interview, but I asked him if he thought it was strange that fans like me still obsess over “Dallas” after all these years. His matter-of-fact answer: “Yeah.” He added that he appreciated the fans and was thankful for their support, but in the end, the show was just a show. “I mean, you know, to me, it was just a job,” he said.

Fair enough. To him, maybe “Dallas” was just a job. But didn’t he do it well?

What are your favorite memories of Ken Kercheval on “Dallas”? Share your comments below and read more opinions from Dallas Decoder.

Listen Up! Texas Monthly Podcast Dives Deeper Into ‘Dallas’

Larry Hagman, Linda Gray

Story behind the story

Texas Monthly has a new gift for “Dallas” fans: a two-part podcast from Max Marshall, the writer whose sweeping oral history of the series appears in the magazine’s October issue.

Marshall gives listeners the story behind his story, including how he came up with the idea for the article, how he was a non-fan who became seduced by the “Dallas” mystique, and how he has come to see the series as a kind of living thing that changes with the times.

You’ll hear moving and candid comments from Patrick Duffy, Linda Gray and Charlene Tilton. You’ll also hear from lots of other folks, including Leigh McCloskey, Roseanna Christiansen (!) and even yours truly (although I shudder to think that’s what I really sound like).

The podcast is available on Texas Monthly’s site. You can also download both parts from iTunes. Happy listening.

Making History: Texas Monthly Tells the Story of ‘Dallas’

Barbara Bel Geddes, Charlene Tilton, Dallas, Jim Davis, Larry Hagman, Linda Gray, Patrick Duffy, Texas Monthly

Bigger than Texas

Texas Monthly marks “Dallas’s” 40th anniversary with a big, sweeping oral history of the series.

The article, written by Max Marshall, boasts a huge cast, including David Jacobs, Patrick Duffy, Linda Gray, David Paulsen, Kristina Hagman, TV critic Matt Zoller Seitz and virtually everyone else you can think of (even me!). There are also several rare behind-the-scenes photos and lots of fresh insight into the show, its role in shaping television and its place in Texas culture.

Read it for yourself at TexasMonthly.com — and be sure to pick up a copy of the print version, which appears as the cover story in the magazine’s October issue.

Who Framed Sue Ellen? A Lego Tribute to ‘Dallas’s’ Leading Lady

Dallas, Linda Gray, Sue Ellen Ewing

Lego of ‘Dallas’? Never!

To mark Linda Gray’s birthday today, I’m unveiling a project that’s near and dear to my heart: a portrait of Sue Ellen Ewing that my husband, Andrew, created using his childhood Legos.

No, really.

It began when Andrew and I spent several weeks this winter cleaning out the Oregon home where he grew up. It was a trying time in more ways than one, especially when Andrew had to crawl into a hot, dusty attic to rescue the Legos that his parents had stuffed into a corner and covered with insulation.

After we shipped the Legos to our home in Washington, D.C., Andrew — looking for a way to unwind after all that work we did out west — decided to use the tiny plastic bricks to honor our favorite “Dallas” leading lady.

Don’t ask me how he came up with this concept, but he used a software program to digitize a glamour shot of Gray during her “Dallas” years, then he recreated that image with Legos. He affixed the bricks to six plates that, when joined together, form a complete picture.

Andrew devoted many hours to this labor of love, and the end result is totally rad: a portrait of one of the biggest stars of the 1980s, rendered to look like a computer graphic from that era, and built using a toy that many of us who grew up watching “Dallas” played with at the time.

The portrait — which is 45 inches by 30 inches — is now framed and hanging in our guest bedroom, where Sue Ellen watches over everyone who comes to stay with us.

So happy birthday, darlin’, and thanks for inspiring my husband, me, and “Dallas” fans everywhere.

Dallas, Linda Gray, Sue Ellen Ewing

Always a work in progress