Showbiz Commentary: Heidi Oringer

March 1, 2001 -- Believe it or not, in order for me to write a column, be it scathing (usually) or complimentary (rarely), I have to be inspired.

As I seldom find spirituality in entertainment, the motivation to write is often hard to find. It's easy to criticize and to get others to jump on the "fault" bandwagon. The true challenge is discovering a way to express unabashed praise for someone and have others follow suit, without it seeming like you're embarking on a career in cult leadership.

Rarely Do I Fawn

At first I considered scribbling a "Good Puffy/Bad Puffy" trial synopsis, including the eventual outcome, which I believe will be a free skate for Daddy. Then I thought, "I don't care." And if I don't care, I figure a lot of people don't care, so I decided against it. Also, the rapper/gun/posse thing makes me a bit weary.

For a while there, I actually felt columnless.

Then I stumbled upon two very wonderful television performances, one by Judy Davis and the other by Anne Heche.

Rarely do I fawn over anyone who doesn't pay me to do so (just kidding). But after seeing these two women, in completely different shows with completely different roles, I was struck by the sheer power of great acting — and on TV to boot.

Ms. Davis brought big-screen grandeur to all 27 inches of my telly (a case where size does matter) in her dead-on portrayal of Judy Garland in the ABC-TV miniseries Life With Judy Garland: Me and My Shadows.

Before I lavish this actress with more accolades, the menacing me needs to get one thing straight. I am not bestowing praise upon the miniseries itself, which is based on the memoir by Garland's younger daughter, Lorna Luft. Although I wasn't present at the time (I was living my first life as Shirley MacLaine's goldfish), others were there, including Lorna's father, Sid Luft, who contends things didn't happen exactly as Lorna says they did. As with most memoirs, the writer tends to make herself look somewhat grandiose.

Lorna claims to be victim — a dedicated daughter, and the only one who stood by Garland through all the tumultuous times, including addiction and poverty.

No Milk? Come on!

Unnecessary moments abound. In one scene, Lorna and her brother are forced to eat dry cereal because Garland was too poor to afford milk (a concept I find a little hard to swallow). Another has Garland cradling a newborn Lorna in her arms and calling the baby "my lucky star" after Garland finds out she will finally get to film A Star Is Born.

As an afterthought, Garland says elder daughter Liza Minnelli is lucky too and gives the teen, standing by her bed, a one-arm hug. At first I wondered how Lorna remembered what happened the day she was born, but by the end of the series, all I kept thinking was, "Once Liza's hips are better, I hope she kicks Lorna's butt!"

Back to Judy Davis:

She gave a performance that was close to perfect because she embodied the role. I was not only transfixed by how much she looked like Garland, but how she intensified the strong resemblance by locking into every one of Garland's mannerisms.

Davis mimicked Garland to the point that if I were offered the chance to step into another room to see Garland herself, I would've said, "No, Davis is just fine!"

I understand Davis studied footage of Garland for quite a while to nail her portrayal, and her hard work paid off. She even lip-synched with such zest that the veins in her neck bulged at just the right times.

Although Garland died before I was born, I truly believe, having seen Judy Davis, that I have in some way seen Judy Garland. I believe an Emmy is inevitable here, but when an actress gives a performance like this, it's obviously not for the kudos, but instead, for the real love of the acting craft. Davis' performance alone could have satisfied my craving for television with substance for at least a month.

A Reason for VCRs

But then … then, on the same night (the reason VCR for Dummies is a must read), came Anne Heche in her final guest appearance on Fox TV's Ally McBeal.

Heche has been playing Melanie, a schoolteacher with Tourette's syndrome who is involved with John "The Biscuit" Cage, played by Peter MacNicol. Her appearances have been increasingly more enjoyable as she has managed to turn the uncomfortable stigmas often associated with an illness like Tourette's into characteristics that were both charming and endearing to viewers.

Heche allowed her character to break down and unravel before our very eyes. She anguished over the end of her relationship with John in such a way that I had to keep reminding myself that Melanie was pretend and Heche was just an actress playing a part.

I'm sure you're thinking, "Well, yeah, that's what acting is supposed to be." But so often, it's not, especially on TV.

I think what these two women brought to the table was believability. After being so jaded by the concept of "Reality TV," which thus far has offered up pig slaughters (Survivor II) and gross indiscretions (Temptation Island), I forgot what "real" means.

Davis and Heche inspired me. It's not that there are no other actors on TV that are good, it's just that in an all too acceptable climate of must-see mediocre TV, these two women stood out.

Even more importantly, for the first time in ages, they made me proud to watch television. They made me feel like I wasn't wasting my time sitting in front of the box, instead of calling my mother or trying to log 3 million receipts into a ledger by April 15. Heidi Oringer is director of entertainment programming at ABCNEWS Radio.