remains vivid in the minds of the cast and crew, even today. â Have you told her that you love her?â the therapist asks the family.
The father starts to respond, but his nervous voice is overpowered by the motherâs. âWe donât do things that way. You show a person, you donât tell them all the time. . . . I donât think you understand our family.â
This pivotal scene, Gibb feels, sheds light on the familyâs level of denial and unwillingness to fully support Karenâs mission to get well. âShe was making progress, and her family came to see her,â she observes. âThere was no support for the work that she was doing whatsoever. The family was more old-fashioned in their beliefs that ânormalâ families donât need therapy, only âcrazyâ people do.â
âMrs. Carpenter, go ahead,â the therapist says, prompting Agnes to voice her love for her daughter.
âFor heavenâs sake,â she exclaims. âThis is ridiculous! We came three thousand miles for this nonsense?â Gibbâs head drops slowly to the side, her character seemingly ashamed, having burdened the parents with her personal problems. Missing the point, the mother retorts, âWe donât need to prove anything to Karen. She knows we love her.â
Heartbroken and horrified by the sceneâs content, the cast was forced to remain neutral, not voicing their opinions or reacting to their emotions. So many revisions had taken place prior to shooting that Richard was unaware of the reactions on the set and seemed pleased with the outcome. âThe response from the family and from Richard himself was as if he were in the
Twilight Zone
,â recalls Mitchell Anderson. âWhen we were doing that scene we were like, âOh my god, Agnes was such an asshole!â But after we finished shooting, Richard was so proud of it because he thought the doctor looked like an asshole.â
No matter the amount of dilution, Morrowâs screenplay spoke between the lines and was ultimately as close to the actual series of events in Karen Carpenterâs life as anyone could ask of a biopic. â If thereâs an arch-villain of the story, itâs probably Agnes Carpenter,â wrote Ron Miller in a review for the
San Jose Mercury News
. He illustrated her character as âan imposing woman who found it almost impossible to show her love to her troubled daughter, even after her illness had been diagnosed and the threat to her life was clear.â
In the final scene of
The Karen Carpenter Story
, however, Agnes Carpenterâs character does soften. She almost repents. For a moment the viewer might forgive and forget her sins of the previous ninety minutes. Louise Fletcherâs âAgnesâ gazes affectionately up the staircase at her grown-up little girl for the last time.
âAnd Karen,â she says with a tender hesitation, âI love you.â
âI love you, too, Mom,â Karen replies. âGoodnight.â
Sadly, the motherâs âI love youâ on the eve of her daughterâs untimely death was a fabricationâcreative license justified by CBS Standards and Practices for the purpose of dramatic effect.
1
CALIFORNIA DREAMINâ
H AROLD B ERTRAM Carpenter had a rather peripatetic childhood and even more itinerant adolescence. The eldest son of missionaries George and Nellie Carpenter, he was born November 8, 1908, in Wuzhou, a city in southern China where the Gui and Xi rivers meet. Siblings Esther and Richard were born several years later. The Carpenter parents were both fine pianists and often played and sang for guests at their frequent formal dinner parties. Although he greatly enjoyed their performances, Harold was not as interested in making music. Against his will he took piano lessons for a while but loathed practicing. More an appreciator of good music than a musician himself, Harold began listening