From the Los Angeles Times, November 27, 1987:
Jenifer Lewis has been appointed to the bench in Love Court, a new syndicated half-hour series to premiere in September 1988. Lewis, an actress, will dispense opinions to couples wrangling over romantic problems. The series is described as a comedy takeoff on TV’s Divorce Court, People’s Court, Superior Court and Love Connection.
And here it was: my first television gig.
After we shot the pilot for Love Court, things got really busy for me during the next few months—but not in Hollywood. Once again, Erv Raible came to me with a great opportunity—this time a concert in Paris featuring me and several wonderful singers: Sharon McNight, Lena Katrakas, Naomi Moody, and Nancy LaMott.
On the way to Paris, I stopped in New York for a few days and Thomas asked me to marry him. I said yes! When I told Mama, she said, “There’s no way you’re marrying anybody.”
While in Paris, I became friendly with our pianist, Michael Skloff, and his wife, Marta Kauffman. When we got back to the States, Marta and her creative partner David Crane cast me in a musical called Let Freedom Sing, which played in Philly and then at the Kennedy Center in Washington, DC. Completely forgetting I was engaged, I simply couldn’t resist the adorable young doorman at the Kennedy Center. I was his first, and I pity the poor girl who was his second—nobody could follow the acrobatics I performed after he escorted me into an elevator and I pulled the Stop button!
I returned to LA and had good auditions for shows on CBS and ABC, and at MTM, which was Mary Tyler Moore’s production company. It was disappointing when the Love Court pilot didn’t get picked up, but nonetheless, things were moving in the right direction and stardom seemed within reach. More opportunities came along, including a pilot with Eddie Murphy called What’s Alan Watching?, which unfortunately did not make it to the airwaves. Around this time, I went on a date with Eddie’s brother, Charlie Murphy. (I swear I didn’t touch him, y’all!) We laughed so much, I think we just forgot to screw!
In March 1990, I was cast in my first regular television role, on Crosstown. The series star was Tony Alda of the famous Alda acting family. I was nervous as hell. It was the first time I had acted on camera on a consistent basis. During the second day of filming, the director stopped me mid-scene. He shouted, “What are you doing? This is a soundstage, not a theater stage!”
I had been trained to hit the back row of a large theater. But when the director showed me the footage of my performance, the problem was clear. I came across loud, over-the-top, exaggerated, like a kabuki actor among regular people. The camera is intimate, it sees more keenly than the eyes of an audience ten feet away. On stage, you have to tell the truth; on camera, you have to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Anything less comes across as fake acting—we call it “ackin’.”
I realized that in order to deliver that much truth, I had to know the truth of who I was. It meant I had to take that “journey within.” I wanted to please the director; I wanted to be as great in Hollywood as I’d been in college and on Broadway. I had to play to the intimacy of a camera and a few people in my face, not a cabaret full of nightclubbers at a distance.
I listened as the Crosstown directors helped me. And I did the work. I dove all the way in, and it was a hell of a transition. Stanislavski. The Method. Acting classes with the brilliant Janet Alhanti served as a sort of therapy for me, because I was forced to examine my emotions in order to create authentic emotions for the characters I played. The greatest method actors achieve unity with their characters—Marlon Brando, Denzel Washington, Viola Davis. They say Robert De Niro comes to set with a stack of index cards of notes he has rooted out about his character. I focused on my Crosstown character. How could I create her truth? I was so proud the day that same director yelled “cut,” then smiled at me. “Very good, Jenifer.”
Working on a TV series is no joke. Like running a marathon every day. Great actors can make it look easy. Trust me, it is not. Sometimes we’d start at five or six in the morning and shoot two episodes in a single day. A couple of times Tony Alda and I stayed at the studio overnight. I was exhausted during Crosstown. But I was very happy.
Despite our failed engagement, Thomas and I were still on the “make up to break up” treadmill. We flew to Hawaii together for a vacation, hoping the beautiful setting would help heal our differences. Conveniently, we both forgot that our trip to Jamaica had failed at achieving that goal. We boarded a helicopter to sightsee over Kauai. The helicopter lowered itself down into the canyon surrounded by all sizes and types of waterfalls, absolutely gorgeous. Then, as the helicopter ascended upward, the song “[Love lift us] Up Where We Belong” blasted through the headphones they had given us. It was utterly breathtaking and romantic. I reached my right hand to take his left. Thomas was left-handed, and when I didn’t feel his sweet fingers reach back for mine, I turned to discover he was writing a note.
I remember mouthing to him over the music, “What are you writing?”
He said, “I just want to remember to tell my mother what I saw today.”
God, help me, his mama always came first. Would I ever really be able to be number two for any man? I’m gonna let y’all answer that and keep it moving.
I came to find the scenic hills and dramatic ocean views on the West Coast calming to my soul. They say nobody walks in Los Angeles, but one of the joys of living here is hiking. From my first days as a resident, when I felt confused, I would hike the mountains that frame the San Fernando Valley, sometimes singing a song that was a favorite when I was a little girl, Climb every mountain, ford every stream, follow every rainbow, ’til you find your dream. I’d choose the steepest slopes, singing a gospel phrase I loved that went God give me mountains with hills at their knees; mountains too high for the flutter of trees. God, give me mountains and the strength to climb them. This was a soul-searching time for me. I sought to be more connected to nature, to pay more attention to sunsets and the rising of the moon.