James McLean

It is quite a joy to discover one of your personal fetishes on the
internet.

Indeed, I was beginning to feel that I was the only one with a dark,
long-term fascination in sitcom studio floorplans, but in recent years
there have been
[one](http://hiconsumption.com/2013/03/famous-television-show-home-floor-plans/)
or
[two](http://www.buzzfeed.com/kristinharris/incredibly-detailed-floorplans-of-the-most-famous-tv-show#.qclMoM8r0)
articles that have started referencing similar fascinations. More
reassuring, though not for the wallet, there are illustrators out on the
net who sell [sitcom floorplan
prints](https://www.touchofmodern.com/sales/fantasy-floorplans/golden-girls-house)
that can adorn your walls and bemuse your house-guests. It is comforting
to know you are not alone with such peculiar fixations, but sharing an
interest does not explain the interest itself; I began to wonder what it
was about sitcom floorplans that (re)capture audience's interest in
particular shows.

It is often assumed that a fixation with detail is the privy of the
hard-core science-fiction fan -- an archetype I would probably be wise
not to deny at this juncture. As a nerdy youth I picked up a copy of *Mr
Scott's Guide to the Enterprise*, a book that illustrated diagrammatic
floorplans for the fabled *Star Trek* ship that mixed set layouts with
interconnected fictional interior spaces. Aside from diagrams, the book
covered both the *Enterprise*'s diegetic history and functionality --
after all, this book was, as the title suggests, property of the
*Enterprise*'s chief engineer, Mr Scott.

The *Star Trek* book offered a level of detail people in and outside of
*The Big Bang Theory* would expect from science-fiction fans. In
fairness, Fan Studies has gone a great distance to quash some of these
cultural attitudes to science-fiction (whereas Sheldon Cooper has
probably gone some way to re-instate them), yet we see through an
interest in sitcom floorplans, this fascination is not generically
assigned. I feel the *Star Trek* book is evidence of a consumer's desire
to shift a particular show from its acknowledged fictional spectacle
into a functional real-space through an established mise en scène.
Sitcom floorplans would suggest this interest is not relegated to
science-fiction enthusiasts, even if the practice is perhaps more
prominent within that particular genre.

One television attribute that often connects television science-fiction
and sitcom genres is seriality; both genres are commonly commissioned
for long-term broadcasting and look to fixed sets to manage production
time and budget. Sergie Dias Branco's (2013) exploration of sitcom
habitats considers the relationship between the production
practicalities of the sitcom set and its diegetic functions. In turn, he
highlights how the sitcom's central space, whether it is a public bar in
*Cheers*, or a private apartment in *Will and Grace,* become homes for
the characters -- and I would argue they become homes for the audience
as well. On a serialised show, these homes become familiar to audiences
and sites of pleasure where the returning viewer re-visits familiar
friendly faces; places where "everybody knows your name".

I've always considered that one of the strengths of serial television is
the bond forged between audience and fiction characters. These bonds can
outstrip those real-world connections with a neighbour or even a
relative. Through even semi-regular watching of serial television
fiction, an audience will get to know the routines, habits and quirks of
Captain Kirk or Sam Malone. They will know what makes Fraiser Crane
click more than their co-worker, furthermore, they'll probably care more
if the former is fired than the latter. I would argue that at some
level, an emotional connection between audiences and characters becomes
inevitable in any form of serial drama. In sitcoms, the goal of
characters is generally to amuse the audience, a positive association
that strengthens their investment on serial viewing. Perhaps with genres
that defy realism, be it through science-fiction's unworldly concepts or
structural elements such as pronounced comedy, the audience looks beyond
the characters to the surroundings to reinforce the real from the
unworldly. In making sense of the principle aspects of a drama, the
audience turns to the spacial ---and occasionally temporal---nature of
the film-sets for support.

My interest in this topic was invigorated recently through a re-watch of
the NBC hit sitcom [*The Golden
Girls*](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0088526/) (1985-1992). This comedy
situated four senior women living out their golden years in a Miami
bungalow. The show lasted for seven seasons with the majority of scenes
taking place within the fixed-set of the bungalow. Aesthetically, it is
an unusual set-design structured to meet the required domestic sitcom
conventions; an attractive and interesting living space can contribute
to an audience's comfort watch. Generally, the mise en scène for sitcoms
tends to remain static throughout the series run (there are exceptions,
*Red Dwarf* is a notable one). Even if events within the story change
the established character set-up, their habitat rarely alters. Any set
changes tend to be for production purposes rather than narrative. This
makes the sets for sitcoms safe, familiar environments for the audiences
to enter and even explore.

![](http://cms.cstonline.net/resizeimage.php?width=397&height=300&image=http://cdn.cstonline.net/assets/image/user_92/GG-1.jpg){.addCaption
.aligncenter loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="397" height="300"}

However, by focusing on the mise en scène in an attempt to make sense of
a particular sitcom world, the audience can begin to unravel the space
rather than secure its reality. The same can be said for
science-fiction. Fans of *Space: 1999*'s Eagle ships negotiate the
inconsistences between [external model shots and internal
sets](http://catacombs.space1999.net/main/cguide/umeaglescale.html) in
their goal for spacial consistency. Likewise, such spacial issues exist
within *The Golden Girls.* Where Blanche Devereaux's room is on the left
of the living room in the Pilot, matching the exterior shot, it is moved
to the end of the more obvious "bedroom corridor" on the right. Avid
watchers will notice how in different episodes the bedroom occasionally
shares the same location as the bedroom for housemate Rose Nylund. The
kitchen in season one has a pantry secluded at the back of the set that
for season two becomes a second entrance/exit for the kitchen area. This
exit not only feeds into Sophia Petrillo's bedroom location, it leads
out to a garage that in the exterior shots is situated on the other side
of the house. An unanchored bathroom set appears to appear only when
required. All these architectural shifts make *The Golden Girls* house
an impossible space.

Such changes would suggest production short-hands; choices made on set
for efficiency and directorial purposes at that expense of an in-world
architectural accuracy. As the audience scrutinise the mise en scène to
make sense of the diegetic world, they risk destabilising it through
fragmented production decisions that bare no relationship or intent to
protect a system of space. As a result, floorplans for *The Golden
Girls* offers no definitive measure of diegetic clarity; they expose the
real truth that these are first and foremost shows, not worlds.

Beyond realising fictional spaces, the lack of published floor-plans
provides an opportunity for problem solvers to investigate and
(re)construct worlds that carry significance for them.
[Several](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PP-X6U6Agow)
[fans](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MhMVnyVT-0I) have used the
virtual space of *The Sims* to render *The Golden Girls* bungalow
in-world. One *Golden Girl* fan has made the house [out of
Lego](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N0CanjKz3vc). Timely to this
article, there has been pressure on Lego to release an official Lego
*Golden Girls* set with [10,000 public
votes](http://fox2now.com/2015/04/09/the-golden-girls-could-get-official-lego-set/).

Whether some audiences are trying to rebuild a fictional world outside
the confines of a television series (in some cases, quite literally), or
looking to insert themselves into that world by focusing on its
structural properties to strengthen its verisimilitude, the desire to
transgress the limitations of television fiction is becoming more
accepted and less ridiculed. Next time you see a door leading off from a
room in your favourite show, think long and hard where it might lead to.
You may find the results more satisfying than you'd imagine.

 

**James McLean** is a postgraduate researcher at the University of East
Anglia. His thesis explores the industrial practices surrounding genre
within the conception and commission of British television. James spent
five years interviewing cast and crew of the FOX television series
*Millennium* that formed the backbone of *Back to Frank Black: A Return
to Chris Carter's Millennium* published by Fourth Horseman Press.


It is quite a joy to discover one of your personal fetishes on the internet. Indeed, I was beginning to feel that I was the only one with a dark, long-term fascination in sitcom studio floorplans, but in recent years there have been one or two articles that have started referencing similar fascinations.

Postagens de Rogue Scholar

I LOVE IT WHEN A PLAN COMES TOGETHER