Dream Girl
Nikki is all about following your dreams. Nikki is
all about following her dreams. Nikki is Nikki White,
a Las Vegas dancer played by Nikki Cox, who got her
start in the WB sitcom
Unhappily Ever After. A WB sitcom normally wouldn't
boost a resume much, but Cox has two things going for
her and no, I'm not about to make the obvious joke.
Granted, she's sexy, and
Nikki relishes the opportunity to dress up its
attractive star in green bikinis and other high-cut
showgirl outfits, but what Cox really has going for
her are a likeable screen presence and a snappy comic
delivery. When she's about to deliver a line, you can
almost see her eyes glitter. Cox had a stint on The Drew Carey Show (also executive-produced by Bruce
Helford and Deborah Oppenheimer) as Drew's cousin, and
watching Nikki, I occasionally wondered what she
would be like on Whose Line Is It Anyway?, free of a
script.
Not that Nikki's writing is bad. It's not
breathtakingly original, but it's not groaningly
awful, either. And it's a sitcom with a potentially
interesting premise: a young married couple pursues
their dreams, but said dreams are frowned upon by
conventional society. At a time when CEOs and
stock-market players are lionized in print media, and
network TV is full of shows about noble doctors
(Gideon's Crossing, ER), idealistic lawyers (The Practice, Family Law), and good-looking executives
(The $treet), it's somewhat refreshing to meet two
characters who want to be a professional wrestler and
a dancer. Nick von Esmarch, playing Nikki's husband
Dwight, has a goofy, naive charm that suits his goofy,
naive character. And both Nikki and Dwight seem like
people you'd be willing to invite into your home for
half an hour not a quality to underestimate, I
realized after watching the first two episodes of this
season's Friends and feeling, after they were over,
glad to be away from that bunch of screeching
narcissists.
Still, Nikki isn't exactly in a position to thrive:
a WB sitcom opposite Who Wants to Be a Millionaire
is facing long odds no matter what kind of body its
star has. But like Cox herself, the show is much
smarter than you'd originally assume. While it is
supposedly all about following your dreams, whatever
they may be, in truth, it's an examination of a sitcom
staple turned on its head the married couple where
the wife dominates the husband. Traditionally this
arrangement is presented as detrimental, if not to the
marriage, then to the husband's happiness: the wife is
loud and the husband "henpecked." Think of
Roseanne, where Dan Conner became more miserable
with each passing season, or Everybody Loves Raymond, where Patricia Heaton's character, Debra,
can best be described as a shrew. Marriage,
sitcom-style, is happiest when the husband takes the
dominant role, a precedent established back in the
1950s by Lucy and Ricky Ricardo. Nikki, by contrast,
presents a marriage where Nikki leads and Dwight
happily follows: it's her idea to "follow their
dreams." In doing so, it raises, and tries to answer,
questions about Dwight's masculinity: if he's the
acquiescent partner, is he still a man?
While the show is supposedly all about Nikki her
name is the title, after all she's a less
complicated character than Dwight. And the show
actually revolves around his conflicts and Nikki's
solutions to them. In the first episode, Nikki and
Dwight flash back to their meeting: he was about to
drive to Pepperdine University, planning to major in
corporate tax law; she, a
stranger who crashed his going-away party, charmed him
into giving her a lift to Las Vegas. Why Pepperdine?
It's not entirely clear, but the writers who named
Nikki and her dance troupe the "Golden Calf Dancers"
probably know what they're doing. It might be that
"Pepperdine" is a subtle dig at Kenneth Starr and his
brand of conservatism; clearly the freewheeling,
potty-mouthed Nikki is no ideal for them. In the
flashback, Dwight is fighting his own conservative
inclinations: it's obvious that Dwight's mother Marion
(Christine Estabrook) is the driving force behind the
corporate-tax-law career plan, and it takes Nikki two
lines of dialogue to learn that Dwight's real ambition
is to become a professional wrestler. In less time
than you can say, "Throw caution to the wind," she's
convinced him to give up college. Two years later, the
two are living in Vegas, happily married, and he's
been accepted to a wrestling training camp.
Naturally, Marion objects: "I'm not saying give up
your dreams. Just do what
everyone else does and push them way down deep inside
you." And thus the essential conflict is set up: Nikki
vs. Marion over Dwight's ambitions. Dwight is, before
he meets Nikki, a "mama's boy"; he had even quit his
beloved wrestling at his mother's insistence after
breaking his nose. Thus, in allying himself with
Nikki, Dwight asserts himself as a grown-up,
heterosexual male breaking a too-strong mother-son
bond. By presenting "mama's boy" as the alternative,
the show de-emphasizes Nikki's dominant role in her
relationship with Dwight. It's harder to call him
"henpecked" when his wife is encouraging him to stand
up for himself against his mother. She also introduces
him to heterosexuality. In the first episode, he asks
how she guessed he was a virgin, wondering aloud,
whether it's "that I'm not jumping on you just 'cause
you're here? Because I'm a gentleman?" Nikki replies,
"Ooh! Gay!" He is, of course, simply shy. But the
inverted sexual and gender roles don't return to
"normal" after she deflowers him: Nikki consistently
makes the sexual advances, not Dwight. Even Nikki's
dances put her in "masculine" costumes: she's dressed
as Godzilla for one number, as a prison guard for
another. Dwight, meanwhile, always shows up backstage
with flowers and supportive words. It's much like Lucy
congratulating Ricky on his band's performances, only
now Lucy is the husband, Ricky the wife.
Meanwhile, working in professional wrestling, Dwight
constantly faces questions about his masculinity and
his heterosexuality. He cringes when he thinks his
wrestling coach is about
to start yelling: "It's that thing coaches do: you get
real quiet, then you yell and call us 'ladies.'" The
coach responds by threatening to kiss him, asking
"Isn't that scarier?" Dwight eventually becomes more
comfortable with wrestling and embraces his wrestling
character, "The Crybaby," even going so far as to
carry a teddy bear into the ring but only after
Nikki performs an embarrassing role which demands
that she sing a really awful song on stage first.
Again, she encourages his ambition by setting the
example in her own professional life.
Unfortunately, once Nikki stops focusing on Nikki
and Dwight's relationship, it doesn't have
many other places to go. Marion is a weak, one-note
character, and we've seen only glimpses of the
couple's friends, such as Nikki's fellow dancers Mary
(Susan Egan) and Luna (Marina Benedict). Mary and Luna
are, so far, stereotypes: the older, wiser dancer with
smart-aleck comments and the ditzy blonde with a taste
for money. Cox, Egan, and Benedict have all trained as
dancers, and Egan has a strong Broadway background
(she originated the role of Belle in
Beauty and the Beast), so we can hope for more
elaborately choreographed dance numbers; but even if
the show continues to open each episode with a dance
routine (the campier the better), it will suffer if it
continues to neglect character interaction and
development. If Nikki stays true to its primary
plotline Nikki reaching for the stars and
encouraging Dwight to do the same it will remain
more than just another cute sitcom about a sexy chick
and her onscreen love interest: the continued playing
with inverted gender and sexual roles will be
interesting to watch. But if it wants to be a good
comedy, as opposed to simply a pleasant and intriguing
one, then it will need to look beyond Nikki and Dwight
to make every character on screen worth watching.