Whitney and Bobby's daliances with addictions have NOTHING on Danny Bonaduce and his co-conspirator of a wife. Breaking Bonaduce makes Being Bobby Brown look like Father Knows Best. The filming of a man who is an alcoholic, drugged out, sex addicted, bi-polar, emotional abuser is even a little too
rich for my blood.
There was something disturbingly grown-up about the wry, gnomelike, wisecracking pre-adolescent he played on The Partridge Family (1970-1974). But now that he is an adult, the 45-year-old Danny seems like a child—albeit one afflicted with premature aging syndrome, to judge by his haggard, sad-eyed (yet still freckled) face. In addition to being a recovering alcoholic and former crack addict who once lived in his car behind Mann's Chinese Theater in Hollywood, he admits to being addicted to sex, exercise, and steroids (in Episode 2, we see him shoot up some 'roids before heading to the gym to pump iron). His impulse control is near nil, and his judgment is terrible; in last week's episode, he freely admitted he was too drunk to drive before getting behind the wheel anyway, telling his producers, "You don't have a show if I don't crash." (In the end, the cameras were turned off while the producers wrested the keys away.)
Yet Bonaduce never comes across as the villain of the show (like one of the orchestrated bad guys on Survivor) or the object of ridicule (like the title buffoon of Being Bobby Brown). In the couple's filmed therapy sessions with Dr. Garry Corgiat, he is laceratingly aware of his shortcomings as a husband and father. The Bonaduces married the same night they met, after a seven-hour blind date; according to Danny, Gretchen refused to have sex before marriage, so he arranged for a quickie ceremony—a stunt he credits with bringing them together, since "nobody would get to know the real me and still marry me." Bonaduce's self-loathing is epic in proportion: "I'm guessing that you guess by now that I'm not my biggest fan," he tells Dr. Corgiat in one early session, later referring to himself as "soulless." Yet he also seems perversely proud of his outsize personality: "I don't want my anger managed," he boasts to Corgiat and Gretchen. "I like my anger. You guys walk around and be all gray. I'm colorful."
In one masterpiece of convoluted logic, Bonaduce even argues that his children, 10-year-old Isabella and 4-year-old Dante, will benefit from being kept in the dark about their father's problems: "I teach them all the things I don't know," he explains to the shrink. "They will be better people than I for not knowing me." In a wrenching one-on-one session between Gretchen and the doctor, she tearfully recounts how their daughter Isabella responds to their marital meltdown by becoming a mini-enabler: "I can fix this, Mommy. Tell him you'll never leave. We can fix this together."
I think my "breaking point" in watching this was the part where Gretchen recounted her daughter's hysteria over the seemingly unavoidable demise of her parent's marriage. In addition to the quickie marriage, I also recall hearing accounts of her literally laying in the driveway behind his car to keep him from going out to buy drugs. I cringed at the idea of that kind of sick co-dependency but, as an adult, she chose this man, this marriage and this life. The issue I have is that she has now subjected two children with this man and relationship and the daughter, without therapy, may very well end up in a relationship just as horrific as the one her parents have.
Addictions and mental illness aside, I see a big, self-absorbed baby who is married to a parent/wife who has finally gotten tired of playing that role. I don't feel sorry for her (or him) but cannot fathom how she can even consider continuing to expose her children to that madness.
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