How was your mother like Beth Jarrett?

Great article and great insights-

My mother once bought me two shirts. I found them on my bed.

My mom was more like Mommie Dearest.

They both drank Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer.

Buck never would've bothered to save gift wrap.

My mother would react to any news she didn’t like by just staring out the window, taking a drag off her Kent cigarette and saying things like “I’ll never understand my children..”

[quote]How was your mother like Beth Jarrett?

Her last name had the same number of syllables.

That's all.

She shopped at Neiman-Marcus at Northbrook Court.

Mine pulled stunts like the French Toast Incident all the time.

Mine was awesome and used Beth as an example of how not to be a mother. She loved Mary Tyler Moore and the movie tho

Somehow I don't think Beth Jarrett saved christmas wrapping. That sounds very working class.

If only!

The thing is it was Mary playing against public type, but the coldness was very much a part of her personality. It really was no stretch. If anything, Mary Richards was the true acting feat.

I read her first book back in the 90's and was saddened by how depressing it was. She had a lot of sadness in her life, but she did find love as she got older.

Not a monster, rather damaged somehow and unable to cope with the tragedy and its effect on her remaining son and husband. The husband could, even if it was not pretty. My mother was somewhat similar in that she saw the world very narrowly and was not remotely self aware. As she grew older she chafed and became angry at almost anything particularly my father and some of her children. She was really angry at her parents and brother for making a mess of their lives.

Moore’s character was very real, very limited and ultimately a tragedy. Very good movie.

What do you suppose happened to Beth Jarrett after the events of the movie?

We used to say Beth was Mary Richards if Mary had gotten married.

My mother was way too sloppy to be like Beth, funny too, she would have made fun of Beth. But my mother was incapable of empathy.

She wouldn’t save French toast no matter much I begged, and was awful at helping me with trig.

Mary was also good playing Sante Kimes in a TV movie for CBS. A twisted parent who was fucking her son. Mary brought subtle dark humor and pathos to the role.

They did a version for Lifetime with Judy Davis, but it was fucking awful. Davis overacted the whole thing.

My mother was nothing at all like Beth Jarrett, but we did tease her mercilessly over one Beth-like moment. My mother wanted to have us all together for a family picture as I was going off to college. My father, sister, and I all grumbled and complained, but finally a date and time were set. The photographer came to the house and set up lights and things. My sister was late, but we finally got all lined up and ready. Like something out of a bad movie, the photographer said, "Okay, three... two... o -" and then the power went out for the rest of the night. Mom was NOT happy and the rest of us laughed about it all night. Cut to Christmas when I was home from college and the Official Second Try was scheduled. It happened, but we were teasing my mom so much that she wasn't in a very good mood. When the long-awaited photo made its appearance, my father, sister, and I never looked better. Mom looked like Beth in OP's photo. This was 1981, and the film of Ordinary People was still fresh, so of course we teased her about it. Poor Mom. It ended up being our last family picture, too. Whenever I see it, it brings a tear to my eye that they're all gone, but I smile at the pained look on my mother's face -she SO wanted a family portrait that she could hang up on the wall...

She wore a lot of brown in that era.

My mother is nothing like Beth Jarrett. She had a great career outside of the home, she is not obsessive about housekeeping, and she is warm and giving as a parent.

My mother was more Jessica Fletcher when she got older.

Younger she was more Samantha Stevens without the witchcraft. But she could twitch her nose, and ears. Her mother was like Aunt Clara unless she was pissed off.

My mom was more like Hope Lange in The Ghost and Mrs Muir.

My mom was more like Hope Lange in Crowhaven Farm.

Yes, she was.

My mother was more like Elizabeth Taylor crossed with Gracie Allen.

My mother was unsentimental. To a fault. It was the only source of real friction she had with my father.

Otherwise, she was a funny, profane broad with a depressive streak. Of course we never talked about or tried to normalize mental illness in the family.

My mother was a combination of Beth Jarrett and Mommy Dearest. Completely bats. We walked on eggshells 24/7.

When she got very old she mellowed a bit and seemed to forget how she had treated her family over the previous fifty years.

My mom was the type to catch an attitude if I didn’t eat a breakfast she prepared right away or worse enjoyed my father’s meal more than hers. She could be a petty cunt like that. I could definitely hear her say “You can’t reheat French toast”, hence why the movie forever resonated with me after seeing it for the first time circa 2013.

My mom did play golf.

In just about every way. Except for the wealth.

My mom was a tennis FREAK.

R32 mine too. Except my dad was NOTHING like Donald Sutherland. Very interesting household I grew up in.

Mine was a shrink. But she ended up a psych professor mostly. Very liberal Catholic convert. Hated John Paul and Pope Ratzi the Nazi. Was a favourite dance partner of the few straight Jesuit priests.

A bit too gay friendly at times, to the extent of staying friendly with my exes.

Loved golf tennis bowling and bridge.

Damn I miss her.

The summer she taught us Croquet was quite interesting. It was supposed to be civilised and unisex. Somehow it became competitively nasty. That's on her.

Mine was always overly concerned over what her friends and neighbors would say about anything adverse that happened in our family.

R37, yeah, that was mine too.

Similar twin sets.

Prior to seeing a therapist and getting on meds, my mother was exactly like Glenn Close in Damages. Very hot and cold with tendency to explode.

I came out the height of AIDS. I had spent most of the 1980s cowering in a corner, married to a young woman set up by my father. Got her pregnant, got married, Dad's plan. Turn me straight.

Meanwhile my father was fucking my wife's mother behind Mom's back. she booted him out. she heard about the setup with me and my wife and made him pay me so I could deal with the depression. I stayed married 6 years. baby was miscarried after a big expensive wedding. I loved her as a friend and tried hard to enjoy sex with her.

when the marriage ultimately broke up my mother was the one who understood and was on my side.

she even took my father back after a prolonged separation that produced another sibling.

R41 Holy shit. Can I license the rights to your life story. This would make great tv, all set during the 80s too. I would pen one helluva pilot episode and continuing storyline. Was the miscarriage after the first pregnancy? Are you still in touch with your kid? I’m guessing you came from a somewhat upper middle class background?

My mom was always smartly dressed and the house was clean. She was warm, interesting and adventurous.

I was lucky. I had a sweet mom. Slighty afraid of her own shadow, but sweet nonetheless.

My mom was sweet and nice about 95% of the time. But if you crossed her she was capable of ripping you a new one.

Beth Jarrett seemed like Carol Brady compared to my mom. If Beth was Alaska, my mom was Antarctica.

There was an extensive library, but it was mostly Reader’s Digest condensed classics.

She had graduated junior college, but followed dietary advice from a radio show that promoted mysteriously advanced natural supplements.

She salvaged the house in the 80s from foreclosure, but spent so much time at casinos her last three years. The checks were big and frequent. Yes, they took checks.

Teacake / r42 one of my older sisters is already trying to write it. Our grandparents were immigrants to Canada - three from Scotland, one from Ireland - my Dad's side. working class. My father's father started as a groundskeeper/ gardener at the Molson Family mansion where he met his Scottish wife,she was a cook's helper.

my mother's parents wete both Scottish and the grandfather I never met wss an engineer but they didn't live well. Gambler.

my father was born in 1920. Shot down in Belgium in '43 and thought dead.

He was 25 and mom 17 when they married in '45. Both went back to school. a priority. both PHDs.

6 kids .

my father had two outside the marriage. one before in England, one in the 1980s.

my very blonde older sister married a black man from Kenya in 1968. four kids. they are like my younger siblings.

we also have my father's diary from when he was a POW.

our family story will make an amazing Canadian saga. and we're almost like you Americans culturally.

R41 did you not read the assignment. Was your mother like Beth Jarrett or not?

R48 Wow, that makes the story even more fascinating. Please wink at us if it ever goes anywhere ie..published books or television. I imagine many of us would figure it out anyway ;). And yes I would definitely adapt your story to an American setting. 😜

No Comparison and a real stretch for Mary.

Very very similar. Colder than a corpse in a freezer. Too bad she's still alive.

She was cold, withholding, disapproving, rigid, emotionally limited and volatile when her sense of order was disrupted.

Seeing the movie at 14 was a revelation. When Mary-as-Beth says, "Mothers don't hate their sons!" I said, like hell they don't.

When I came home for a few days after moving to NYC post-college, she put her hand on my shoulder, and I jumped. So little tenderness had previously been expressed. I thought it could've been an Ordinary People outtake.

She's gone now. And, well, whatever.

I certainly will Teacake/r50. I'm 66. My 49 year old beautiful niece, a one time model, did many commercials, extras on Discover Channel shows as the tall attractive black woman, just paid a visit with her much younger husband.

I babysat her. She's a diva. She blames her gay uncle for it. I admit to spoiling the crap out of her .

And she was my Mom's first girl grandchild. The bond was like glue. However, even here in accepting Canada there were times my blonde blue-eyed mom got second looks when dragged her chocolate granddaughter around fully intending to turn her into a girly girl who loved jewelry, makeup, perfume, clothes and especially shoes. People assumed my mother was her foster mother, or worse, her social worker.

Good old Mum did not take to kindly to that. If you looked closely the resemblance was uncanny. One was a light older version of the other.

Naturally my niece was devastated when Mum died. We all were.

Rep 29:

My mother was also like Beth and Mommie Dearest. I also learned to walk on eggshells at an early age. She didn't think she had a problem. Trying to anticipate her behavior (when she would blow one way or the other) was like trying to predict earthquakes.

[quote]R14 Moore’s character was very real, very limited and ultimately a tragedy.

Tragedy implies we’re supposed to feel sympathy.

Why would we do so for such an utter cunt? She had the intelligence, resources, and support necessary to develop as a human being, yet she refused to.

Fuck her.

Perms, pastels and potpourri.

Frenemies with Carole Lazenby.

My God my mother was just like that with gift wrap. I thought it was a Depression-era thing.

R52 sorry you were exposed to that growing up. Any video of her in action?

Had a great mom who didn’t have to bury her dead gay son.

Hi Carole Lazenby/r61!

R48 I know your family. IRL.

My mother could never remember my dog's name and was always having golf course meltdowns.

My mother wanted attend a session with me and my therapist to explain her side of the story.

You can’t re-use broken gift wrap.

My mom was COLD & it was never her Fault!!

She was controlling and constantly obsessed with "where" I was, "who" I was with, and "what" we were doing. Every time I came home from hanging with friends she'd grill me about all of the above and more, always with follow up questions ("why" and "how" etc). It would almost always include accusations of lying.

Of course I was lying to her, much like Conrad, because of I couldn't tell her I was hanging out a the park or exploring an abandoned building with friends or driving around listening to music and yelling dumb shit out of the car at random kids we went to school with. My lies were basic, "we hung out at x's house, watched TV, l,ayed video games, etc," but it would always raise her suspicions. We were teenagers, we weren't bad kids at all, and we were claiming our independence and exploring the world, learning our boundaries and testing the limits. It was the 80s though so my mom thought I was on drugs and worshipping the devil.

She'd listen in on phone conversations and grill me about what we talked about, always trying to "catch"me in a lie. It was endless, daily scrutiny and interrogations. She'd forbid me from seeing certain friends, too, which made it difficult to keep any friends at all. I had a ridiculously early curfew too, which my peers ridiculed me for. My teenaged years were miserable enough being a closeted gay teen, but I had a prison guard/prosecutor as a mom on top of it.

My mother, like Beth, was all about appearances and putting on the best public show of family happiness she could. It didn't matter what was actually going on at home, as long as she could make it look like everything was blissful to the outside world.

My mother, I think, though not cold like Beth, wanted to keep us safe, and her way of doing that was by keeping the bad stuff out of public view. Like the article says about Beth:

[quote] By keeping up appearances, by not letting anyone get beyond the emotional barriers she's constructed, Beth can keep her family safe. Her anger and frustration come from her inability to get Calvin to understand that. "This is my family," she tells Calvin. "And if we have problems, we'll solve them in the privacy of our own home."

My mother was closer to Donna Reed (on her show) than Beth, but my dad’s side of the family had plenty of Beth’s—most more likable than Beth but classic Midwestern WASPs of their generation.

My father's mother was like Beth. Very insecure but covered it by being controlling. Thankfully, as she got older, she became easier to get along with. I tell friends they would have loved her, because she was very stylish in an Elizabeth Taylor way and very catty. However, she wasn't a WASP, she was Italian.

My mother died young, but she was warm and funny and accident-prone. She and her mother-in-law didn't get along, namely because my mother was from the rural south. But my grandmother had to concede later on that my mother did a good job, because my brother and I were relatively easygoing and well-adjusted.

My mother was a countrified Beth Jarrett, less polished, less sophisticated, but no less critical and obsessed with outward appearances above all else.

She was critical and cold, dismissing my interests as impractical, too ambitious (costly), and doomed to failure. Better a secure job at the post office, or selling nice clothes on a nice shop in Bumpkinville and "work your way up." When teachers and principals repeatedly and over years pleaded with her repeatedly to put me in better schools or support outside learning beyond the advanced options the school offered she refused, telling them i was no better than anyone else, not wanting to fill my head with ideas.

In her country mind, intelligence and learning had no place; there was no need to invest in these things beyond the bare minimum. So much more important that I dress in perfect new clothes that reflected on her care and good taste. She would complain that I had no friends, then disapprove sharply of any that I did have. If I brought someone new to the family house and then had an invitation to theirs, she would always refuse because their house, their clothes, their mother wasn't "nice" enough. Anyone who wanted to be my friend clearly did so because they were jealous (of my fine clothes, maybe) and sought only to take advantage of me.

I left early for college and never came back to the small town for longer than a few hours at a time. She wanted me to come back for holiday meals and events; I would schedule instead a day near holiday (she was better company, I realized, without the stress and migraines of a family dinner.) So I scrapped her visions of perfectly nervous, chilly family events in favor a casual drop in. She had no more idea about my life than she did about the workings of international monetary policy. The less she knew about me, the less she seemed to dislike me. She knew too much about her other children and never had good word for them either.

She wasn’t playing against type as Beth Jarrett. She played against type as Laura Petrie and Mary Richards.

My grandmother was like Beth in that she valued masculine men. Not in the Neanderthal, present culture of hyper masculinity, but the traditional sense—whether they were an accountant or a plumber. To her a man’s intelligence was linked to his masculinity in a way.

My mother didn't have a great career outside the home, and she was obsessive about housekeeping. But she was still nothing like Beth. And she didn't have MTM's high-pitched, squeaky voice.

Well, my mother did shop at the Water Tower.

[quote]What do you suppose happened to Beth Jarrett after the events of the movie?

She left her family, rented a sophisticated apartment in Washington, DC and became President Reagan's mistress. The movie 'Ordinary Mistress' was planned but never developed. Nanette Fabray was rumored to play Nancy Reagan.

R77 😆 I love you. I’m a weird cunt but I love you.

I love it that I can come to this site and see “Ordinary People” references and threads. One of the few places I can get this in 2025.

R15 She went back to Arizona and stayed with her brother until the divorce was finalized. She then started a new life with her settlement money, but she was never the same.

R15 She left her husband and moved to Indianapolis where she bought a small advertising firm called 'Connors and Davenport'. Her first day on the job she fired this aggressive carrot-topped woman with fried eggs for tits, named Ms. Ann Romano. The rest is history.

I literally want to spend the rest of my life in that Neiman Marcus scene.

Staring at a YSL dress- or off into oblivion..

Pissing off a commission sales rep- NO I DON'T WANT TO TRY THIS ON IN MY SIZE, BITCH!

And just ride up and down the escalators with beautiful Christmas packages pressed against my chest telling some acquaintance cunt-

Hi!!!! It gets CRAZIER EVERY YEAR Doesn't it!!!?????!!!!

Just up and down, up and down... up and down, up and down--- forevah.

She preferred my dead brother to me.

How he got that way differed from the movie, though, the prick.

She thought that the broken dish could be saved. It was a clean break. It was a clumsy metaphor.

R6 my mother, upon hearing the news my sister was pregnant, as she turned the page of the newspaper without looking up said "Another trip to death's door..."

My mother would have never bought something for me to wear without my having seen it first, and she waited until she was a bit older than Beth to take up golf. But the escalator, "It gets crazier every year," being very charming at the holiday party, etc. that was her when other people were around. With us she was either very serious or exasperated. I personally think she was depressed.

If we had the money, I'm sure my mom would have loved to have spent Christmas in London and would have said, 'it will be right out of Dickens,' but that's about it with regards to Beth. I've always felt my mother is a lower socio-economic Lucille Bluth.

My mom dressed like her and was always worried about what the neighbors and others thought of our family.

My mom was very much like Beth Jarrett in the "keeping up appearances" department.

I remember going to see Ordinary People in the theater with her, and afterward, she said she felt sorry for Beth and didn't think of her as a monster. I think my mom saw a lot of herself in the Beth character.

Please compare and contrast the Midwest WASP and the East Coast WASP.

The East Coast WASP wears old expensive clothes rather than new expensive clothes?

Dr. Berger's office was in Highland Park. Beth wouldn't be caught dead in Highland Park.

The real stone cold c*nt in this film is the grandmother.

I have no doubt Beth considered herself very fair and liberal compare to her mother.

Don’t you talk to me the way he talks to you!

Evanston, r92, wasn't it?

My father was the Beth in my life. He never opened his mouth except to scream how horrible I was, or how poorly I was doing something. My mother was the complete opposite, verging on smothering. Complete gay cliche.