Las Vegas Sun

March 29, 2024

Ensconced in TV sitcom history, Gary Coleman ponders his past

Wherever Gary Coleman goes, commotion follows. Heads swivel. Conversations halt. Shirt sleeves are tugged. Star-struck common folk begin speaking in hushed tones.

And without fail, some yahoo cannot resist the temptation to spit out "The Phrase." It happened again recently when Coleman, in Las Vegas to tape an episode of the Game Show Network hybrid sitcom, "Burt Luddin's Love Buffet," walked in to a Flamingo Hilton restaurant.

As the 4-foot-7, 90-pound former cornerstone of the NBC hit sitcom "Diff'rent Strokes" made his entrance, a young male employee -- it could have been a busboy or even the restaurant manager for all Coleman knew -- called out, "Whatchoo talkin' 'bout, Willis?"

Hey, clever.

"I don't know who you are," Coleman said, flashing a fake smile, "but you're fired."

Then he laughed.

"That, 'Whatchoo talkin' 'bout,' ugh," Coleman said later after being seated in a booth far from nosey celebrity gawkers. "If I could go back 14 years and not say that line, I'd do it. Realistically, I hear that line at least twice per day. It has become part of the national vernacular."

In a never-ending attempt to keep his flickering acting career alive, Coleman plays a bit part in the season finale of "Burt Luddin's Love Buffet."

"Love Buffet," which airs nightly at 7 p.m. (the season finale is Wednesday on Cox Cable Channel 68) is part game show, part sitcom. The game show, patterned after "The Dating Game," is real. All of scenes set apart from the game show (about 25 percent of the show) are a scripted serial sitcom.

In the season finale, a still-cheeky Coleman plays himself and gives sage advice to hapless show host Luddin (John Cervenka), who has managed to lose all of a $1 million lottery jackpot at the Flamingo.

"I'm saving the host's life. I'm the voice of reason," Coleman said, laughing. "Just like I have been for the first 31 years of my life."

"Love Buffet" is the latest in a series of under-the-radar projects Coleman has pursued in the past several years. He co-hosts "The Reel Show," serving as an entertainment reporter for the website-exclusive program found at Realpreviews.com.

Coleman has also taped a pilot called "Breakroom," where he plays a hot-tempered vice president of a major airline. He hopes a major network -- NBC is said to be interested -- picks up the series for the fall season.

"That's going to be cool because I get to wear suits and order people around," Coleman said. "I get to be a jackass, a part I haven't played yet."

Rather, he's been Arnold Jackson, or some comparable manifestation, since "Diff'rent Strokes" ended its run more than a decade ago. Coleman has been portrayed in cartoon form ("The Gary Coleman Show" ran from 1982-'83) and has played Arnold-type characters in cameo rolls, TV movies and the occasional feature film for more than a decade.

Coleman has been cast as "himself" in a vast collection of television projects, including the short-lived "Jackie Thomas Show," "Married ... With Children," and "Mad TV."

Coleman has become weary of portraying what can be construed as a parody of himself.

"Playing myself gets really old, really quick," Coleman said. "The unfortunate thing is, and this is no slam against 'Love Buffet,' but I'm playing myself. It's either me, or an Arnold-type character saying, 'Whatchoo Talkin' 'bout,' which I'm really trying to get away from."

Even so, Coleman has grudgingly accepted being forever wed to "Diff'rent Strokes" and his tragedy-prone cast mates. Coleman is fiercely protective of the show's often-derided legacy. The only moment he shed his high-octane huckster demeanor in a 20-minute interview to promote "Burt Luddin" was when asked about Dana Plato.

Plato, Coleman's friend and "Diff'rent Strokes" co-star throughout the show's run from 1978-'86, died of a drug overdose May 8 in Moore, Okla. Plato's death was later ruled a suicide. She was 34 -- three years older than Coleman.

Coleman's jaw clenched as he discussed media coverage of Plato's death, particularly the rehashed accounts of her drug addiction and her robbery of a Las Vegas video store in 1991.

"My only thought for Dana Plato is -- and this is for the press in general -- that her ashes are in Oklahoma. Let her rest in peace," Coleman said. "Quit dogging her out in the press now that she's gone. I know it sells newspapers, and I know it's what slope-minded, slope-headed people want to focus on, but she was much more than a troubled person and always will be much more than that to me."

In past interviews, Coleman has said his favorite memory of Plato was when both were teenagers driving through Los Angeles. Plato, at the helm, decided to take a high-speed detour through a golf course, dodging balls and frightening golfers.

"She was a wonderful, free spirit," Coleman said. "She gave of her love freely, gave of her time freely. ... She's gone, I don't know by her own choice, but she's gone because she needed do go. She wasn't getting a break, people were just bringing her down, and there was no way to get up from that."

In his own universe, Coleman has shown remarkable resiliency while battling through all sorts of adversity. He overcame a congenital, growth-stunting kidney disease to become the cornerstone of a network sitcom by the age of 10. At the time "Diff'rent Strokes" debuted, NBC was in third place in the ratings and merely asked the diminutive Coleman to carry the show.

"One of the major frustrations of 'Diff'rent Strokes' was it was all me, me, me, and then a little of Conrad (Bain, who played father figure Philip Drummond)," Coleman said. "But they were in third place and sinking fast. They needed someone who was going to be a savior or scapegoat, and it was me."

He wound up a savior, but success quickly led to personal and professional strife. By his own account, Coleman's foster parents and personal manager were responsible for bilking him out of $18 millions (by his estimation) in profits from "Diff'rent Strokes" and other show business ventures.

Coleman flatly refused to discuss his strained relationship with his foster parents or his lost millions. However, in an online chat in May on ABC News' website, Coleman offered his assessment of his financial status when asked if he'd ever be able to recoup his losses.

"I can't really discuss the recuperation, but it will never be $18 million -- never," he said. "My parents took more, along with Anita D. Thomas (Coleman's business manager) than I could ever spend ... I did spend a bit -- but never close to the amount that they took."

Another episode vaulted Coleman into the monologues of Letterman and Leno: An August 1998 altercation with an autograph-seeking female fan at a mall in Hawthorne, Calif., where Coleman was employed as a security guard.

Despite being outweighed by more than 100 pounds and measuring a foot shorter, Coleman was accused of pushing and punching the woman, then fleeing. Coleman pleaded no contest to disturbing the peace in February and paid a small fine.

"It must've been a mini-mall," Leno cracked.

"What was the most surprising thing about Gary Coleman punching a woman who asked for his autograph?" Letterman asked. "That somebody actually asked for his autograph."

But such barbs don't appear to phase Coleman, at least not at this point in his fascinating life.

"I'm only worried about what's happening today and my future," Coleman said. "Today is the first step to tomorrow."

Today, Coleman is a one-shot bit player in a little-known cable sitcom/game show.

Tomorrow?

"Who knows? I need to work to support myself," Coleman said. "I like good humor. I like being the pivotal character, the supporting character who gives comic relief.

"At heart, I'm a scene-stealer. I'm just waiting for my next opportunity."

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