Penny and Sheldon

Geek chic by Jim Colucci

Watch!

typed by pennyandsheldon.com

No pocket protectors or sci-fi tees here: The stars of The Big Bang Theory show off their sophisticated sides and discuss how viewers have embraced their quirky characters.

It’s 10 a.m. on a Tuesday and from the look of things, the normally fastidious Sheldon Cooper must be playing hooky from the physics lab. And while his best friend and fellow scientist, Leonard Hofstadter, may be sporting an uncharacteristically hip mustache and goatee for the summer, these otherwise superserious scientists still seem a bit out of their element as they now jokingly preen for the camera.

That’s because today, the actors behind TV’s smartest new comedic pair — Jim Parsons and Johnny Galecki as Sheldon and Leonard, respectively — and their The Big Bang Theory castmates Kaley Cuoco, Simon Helberg and Kunal Nayyar have traveled far from the show’s Burbank, Calif., soundstage. This Watch! photo shoot, in the lobby of New York’s glamorously renovated and recently reopened The Pierre hotel, offers the cast of CBS’ white-hot sitcom a chance to show a different, sexier side—one that’s less Caltech, more couture.

It All Started with a Big Bang

When it premiered in the fall of 2007, Big Bang was CBS’ sole new comedy for the season. The show’s new Monday night neighbors featured cool, hip ladies’ men like How I Met Your Mother’s Barney Stinson and Two and a Half Men’s Charlie Harper. Big Bang was instead populated with characters far less suave — go ahead, call them nerds, geeks, brainiacs — and yet somehow fit right in.

“There was a distinct moment, in shooting the pilot, when I knew the show would work,” remembers Helberg, who plays the ineptly skirt-chasing mama’s boy Howard Wolowitz. During a scene in which Sheldon and Leonard were at a sperm bank, “I was offstage and heard the audience’s reaction, which went on for so long that the director, Jim Burrows, said, ‘There’s too much laughter. We have to go back and do it again.’ Then, when Kunal [as the girl-shy, Indian-born Rajesh Koothrappali] and I came in, we got entrance applause — and no one knew who we were yet! I just remember thinking, ‘This is something special.’”

The nation’s critics, however, were harder to convince. When the cast appeared at the semiannual convention of TV journalists the summer before the show’s premiere, “they said we were going to fail two episodes in. Before they even saw the show, they were not fans,” remembers Cuoco, who plays Penny, the feminine catalyst in apartment 4B.

“And I don’t fully blame them,” Parsons admits. “The show is better than its description. But I don’t know how to describe it.” Despite the assurances to the contrary from the comedy’s creators — Two and a Half Men’s Chuck Lorre and Bill Prady, a former Dharma & Greg writer and onetime computer programmer — “the critics assumed that Big Bang would be about cheap shots at intelligent people,” Galecki explains. “And if anything, I think the show defends intelligent people.”

“I think The Big Bang Theory reflects a shift in the cultural landscape,” agrees CBS Entertainment President Nina Tassler. “Groups of friends like this, with their type of ‘geek chic,’ have blossomed into a very familiar and relatable demographic. We’re seeing it in film, in literature, and I think it’s a fresh way to access comedy.”

So is The Big Bang Theory making smart sexy? “Just look at this cast!” jokes Nayyar, with a wave around the table.

“One of the things I’ve learned from this show,” Galecki adds, “is that people who are sometimes called ‘nerds’ or ‘geeks’ or ‘dweebs’ are really just people who are passionate about something. And ultimately, passion is appealing, even if the subject is something you’re personally not passionate about.”

Interestingly, for Parsons, the attraction in Big Bang’s characters lies in what they don’t feel. “They all have what we might laugh at and call social shortcomings,” he says, “and yet with the possible exception of Leonard, they don’t live their lives at all depressed about that. Instead, they have a firm belief, and strong hope, that they will achieve greatness in areas like science and, for Wolowitz, in attracting women.”

The can-do attitude has won over some former naysayers. “I was sure Big Bang would just turn into a one-joke pony about smart guys and a dumb blonde,” admits Susan Young, formerly of The Oakland Tribune and now a freelance TV journalist. “How wrong I was. Now it’s my favorite comedy, one I know will always put a smile on my face and have at least one laugh-out-loud moment.”

Call it the Lorre/Prady Paradox: that there could exist a show about characters of rarefied intelligence, working in a field that only those in the rightmost standard deviation on the bell curve of IQ would understand — and yet, somehow, its comedy would be universal.

“It’s not rocket science,” Mediaweek’s TV critic Marc Berman offers in explanation. “The show is not what you would call ‘edgy,’ but just funny.
The formula for a good comedy can be very simple: You create characters that people can relate to. And we’ve all lived our lives at some point either knowing a nerd, or feeling like one. These are four guys and a woman we feel like we could be friends with in real life, and so that’s why they keep us so entertained.”

In fact, in what the show’s cast considers a sign of the best-written character comedy — and what they say is the ultimate compliment to Big Bang’s writers — they often find themselves not having to say a word to get a laugh.

Particularly in the show’s second season, Parsons explains, the show’s characters were already so well-defined and familiar that “the audience would start to jump the laugh before the joke had even landed. And that was because they knew what the character was thinking. It was strange for us at first, but it’s wonderful.” The resulting electricity in the room, Cuoco notes, “makes the show’s taping nights really fun. Because every crowd is like a rock concert.”

Lorre usually cuts the longest “laugh spreads” from the finished product, Galecki explains, so viewers at home don’t get a true indication of the high jinks happening on Warner Bros. Stage 25. Nayyar, who everyone agrees tends to crack up the most at such moments, says he has to resort to deliberately sipping his soup.

And then there is the little mind game Galecki and Parsons have begun playing with each other as they stall during the laughter, waiting to get out their next lines. “Jim and I will battle each other when we’re left with nothing to do but stare. He has taken to trying to break me,” Galecki reveals. “He’ll — just so slightly, and I don’t know if even the camera will pick it up — raise an eyebrow a little bit at me. I’ve even mouthed to him, ‘That’s not fair.’ And he’ll mouth back, ‘I know.’”

Add a Penny on the Scale

Big Bang was a ratings winner right from its first few airings. But like many other now-classic sitcoms before it, this show, with its ardent astrophysicists, truly soared in the Nielsen ratings in its second season. And Tassler has several theories as to why.

“For one thing, people have fallen in love with the characters,” she notes. “Chuck Lorre has crafted such clever, smart, specific stories that have illuminated these relationships.” Particularly, she posits, between Penny and the boys. “With Sheldon and Leonard, you got them right from day one. But in Season 2, Penny really blossomed as a character. We saw how she could become more integrated into their lives, and how they would be more involved in hers, and audiences really embraced that.”

And Tassler is not the only one who thinks that, ironically, it may be the average-brained Penny who balances this quintet’s genius comedic success. Penny, Cuoco says, is everyman’s entry point into the realm of the brilliant. “I feel like I represent the audience, who can look at these guys through my eyes.”

Cuoco’s ability to convey such a natural, good-natured groundedness, Helberg notes, is a testament to her talent. After all, these physicists are connected to their new friend by such a delicate chemistry.

A year before this current hit incarnation, Lorre had attempted an earlier Big Bang pilot, with a female character instead named Katie. The show’s four male characters, Nayyar observes, “are very innocent, without any trace of malice.” And so when “Katie” acted more manipulative with these malleable men, “it was like she was shooting fish in a barrel. It didn’t work,” Galecki says. “We’ve had that problem with guest stars, too,” the actor notes. “If they’re too malicious towards the guys or show too much of an edge, the audience hates them.”

In fact, he and Cuoco say, the show’s writers, noticing this phenomenon, even turned it into one of her favorite episodes in Season 2. When their building’s newest foxy female began working her wiles on our boys, Penny came to the rescue in a laundry room showdown. “When I stuck up for them and said, ‘These are my guys,’” Cuoco remembers, “the crowd screamed. And I kept thinking, ‘Don’t cry! Don’t cry!’ Because I was so touched. We’re all so protective of these characters, I could cry right now thinking about it.”

Nerds on the Floor

Both Galecki, a young veteran of ABC’s long-running Roseanne, and Cuoco, who got her first big break as teen on that network’s 8 Simple Rules, adjusted early on to the fame, and fan familiarity, that comes with life on a hit sitcom. During his Roseanne years, Galecki remembers, he would often play the outdoor bowling game pétanque with his friend Brad Pitt. “And people would come up and touch me, because I was on TV. Meanwhile, Brad was on the side of every bus and on every billboard for his movie Interview with the Vampire. And he would say sarcastically, ‘Yeah, feel free to touch him.’ Because he was shocked.” (“Are you saying Brad Pitt was jealous of you?” Cuoco immediately teases.)

Back then, Galecki says, fans on the street would often unimaginatively shout out the name of his TV girlfriend: “Where’s Darlene?” And so he expected the Big Bang taunts to have started by now. “But the fans of this show treat these characters with such respect,” the actor says. “There was just one time, when we had really good seats at a Lakers game, and some jock was jealous. He yelled, ‘NERDS!’”

“And you were like, ‘Whatever! We’re the nerds on the FLOOR!’” Cuoco quips.

The bestowal of such celeb status on erstwhile eggheads has predictably won the show quite a few fans among Sheldon and Leonard’s real-life counterparts. “Let’s be honest, this is the biggest thing that’s happened to scientists in a long time,” Cuoco jokes.

But as Nayyar elaborates, “We also have many fans in the high school theater community. For a lot of people who maybe have felt like misfits, or haven’t fit in with the cool crowd, we sort of become rock stars.”

And ironically, as it turns out, in real life, all four of the actors now famous as TV scientists have no actual affinity for the stuff at all. Growing up on the hurricane-prone Gulf Coast of Texas, Parsons says he had an initial flirtation with a career in meteorology. “I took a class in college—and it was the only class I ever failed,” he admits. “That, plus I didn’t take to it at all. It turns out, the sciences didn’t want me any more than I wanted them.”

In the end, that key difference between actor and character just makes playing Sheldon, who often spurts pages-long monologues full of jargon supplied by the show’s technical consultant, that much more of a challenge. Parsons reveals that he learns his lines—usually without comprehending the scientific principles behind them—by writing them out longhand.

A Star Sitcom Explodes

With the show’s third season comes a new time slot, Mondays at 9:30. “One of our priorities this year is to punch Big Bang into the stratosphere, to make this top 20 show a top 10,” explains CBS scheduling chief Kelly Kahl.

The move, to the time slot behind Two and a Half Men, creates a virtual Chuck Lorre Power Hour. And as Lorre explains, he’s thrilled to have the continued opportunity to create more Big Bang.

“Each cast member is very skilled, a consummate pro, who brings a lot of heart and compassion to the work, and they have a real bond off-camera,” says the veteran producer. “That combination is not only rare and priceless, but also clearly visible when you watch the show. The end result is an incredibly funny and smooth-working ensemble.”

This spring CBS announced that the network was taking the rare step of renewing Big Bang for not just one but two more seasons, which in TV is the equivalent of academic tenure for a Ph.D. like Leonard. Subsequently, Nayyar and Parsons put down roots in L.A. by each buying a house, as they plan for a long and prosperous run. Meanwhile, when we last saw Sheldon and his cohort in May, they were headed for a summer of research in the Arctic. As they arrive back in Pasadena, and on our small screens, this fall, The Big Bang Theory is poised to generate laughs well into 2011. In physics, that’s known as having great “potential energy.” Perhaps that’s a phrase we’ll hear any one of our favorite, funny physicists utter in Season 3.

The big surprise of Big Bang: The bigger audience  by Edward Wyatt

New York Times

BURBANK, Calif. — The most vibrant buzz this summer around the Warner Brothers lot here and CBS Entertainment headquarters in nearby Studio City was not being generated by the slate of new shows on the CBS fall schedule. Rather, it focused on the sudden emergence — during summer repeats, no less — of a series that had been on the air for two seasons.

“The Big Bang Theory,” the CBS comedy about two brilliant physicists and their attempts to relate to the world around them — and to the cute blond woman next door — began drawing surprisingly strong ratings this summer after it moved to a later time slot on Monday, at 9:30 p.m., immediately following that network’s highest-rated comedy, “Two and a Half Men.”

In some weeks of the summer “Big Bang” repeats drew bigger audiences among certain important demographic groups than when the same episodes were first broadcast. So far this fall “Big Bang” has further expanded its audience, becoming the highest-rated live-action comedy among the sought-after young-adult demographic group.

If current trends prevail, its total viewership could soon surpass that of “Two and a Half Men,” long the most-watched comedy on television. Last Monday’s “Big Bang” drew 12.96 million viewers, according to Nielsen, only 5 percent fewer than the 13.63 million for “Men.”

Already “Big Bang” has beaten “Men” among viewers age 18 to 49, the demographic category most valued by advertisers.

The comedies have more in common than their popularity. They were co-created by Chuck Lorre, they tape on adjacent stages on the Warner Brothers lot, and they share several writers and much of their technical crews. And with the upstart closing in on the longtime ratings champion, Mr. Lorre said, he sometimes isn’t sure how to react when the ratings come in.

“There’s a lot of ambivalence,” he said on Tuesday night, during a break in the taping of a “Big Bang” episode. “It’s ‘Yeah!’ then ‘Awww.’ But it’s all good. I can’t claim to understand how this works; I’m just thrilled that it’s working.”

The cast and crew of “The Big Bang Theory” are enjoying their success all the more after surviving two near-death experiences. The show’s first pilot was rejected by CBS, but the network asked Mr. Lorre and Bill Prady, his co-creator, to retool their script and try again. The first version featured the same two male lead characters — Jim Parsons as Sheldon Cooper, a theoretical physicist, and Johnny Galecki as Leonard Hofstadter, an experimental physicist — but also included a female lead character who was “very damaged and very tough,” Mr. Prady said.

“We had a really hard time casting the role, and in retrospect it was obvious that the problem was not the actresses but the conception of the character,” he said. Focus groups that watched the original pilot were left with protective feelings for the two naïve, socially awkward scientists, and they did not like the prospect of a bitter, manipulative woman taking advantage of them.

“What we all liked was the relationship between these two guys, one who wants his world to be bigger and the other who wants his world to be smaller,” Mr. Prady said. “I think that’s what everyone looked at and said, ‘This is worth trying again.’ “ The creators decided to keep the male characters and to persuade Mr. Parsons and Mr. Galecki not to take another series in the year between the two pilots.

They also called back one of the actresses who auditioned unsuccessfully for the original female role: Kaley Cuoco, a former child actor who played opposite John Ritter in the comedy “8 Simple Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter.” Much of the edge was taken off the character of Penny — so much that at first she looked to be little more than a jiggly blonde next door with no apparent motivation for being interested in two science geeks.

It took awhile to find the character’s voice, but now Penny “is one of the guys,” Ms. Cuoco said. “She’s not some untouchable creature.”

Over the first two seasons Penny and Leonard edged toward each other and are now in a full-fledged relationship. But theirs is not the unbelievable type of couple — a gorgeous female and a paunchy, slacker male — that has been so popular in Judd Apatow films recently.

“Penny has been in horrible relationships and picked the wrong guy constantly,” Ms. Cuoco said. “I think she has more baggage than the guys.”

As a result, Mr. Galecki said, “It went from a show that I think may have made fun of intelligent people half of the time to a show that defends intelligent people 99 percent of the time.”

The most interesting relationships are those between the two male leads and among their two boon companions: Rajesh Koothrappali (Kunal Nayyar), an astrophysicist who is shy to the point of muteness around women, and Howard Wolowitz (Simon Helberg), an engineer who maintains an outsize confidence in his skill as a ladies’ man, despite living with his mother.

Those did not turn the series into an immediate hit, however. “When it went on the air, it was disregarded almost immediately,” Mr. Lorre said, noting the show’s respectful but not great reviews. Then, a few weeks into its first season, came the second near-death experience — the writers’ strike shut down production for three months. Once the strike ended, CBS moved the series from its 8:30 time slot to 8, leading off its Monday-night lineup — an especially tough position for a first-year comedy.

The series stayed there in its second season, performing admirably. Then in February, on a night when a presidential news conference interrupted its regular time slot, CBS scheduled an episode of “Big Bang” at 9:30, after “Two and a Half Men.” The ratings were so promising, said Kelly Kahl, a CBS senior executive vice president for prime time, that the arrangement was made permanent.

This season the series has also been enjoying the publicity around the Emmy nomination for Mr. Parsons, as best actor in a comedy.

“It’s been such a healthy climb the first two seasons,” Mr. Parsons said. He also said he thought that the show had much potential to grow. “I feel like there’s still a strong segment out there that may not be sold on the concept of four nerds and the pretty girl next door,” he said. “I get that. I think there’s a lot more going on that doesn’t really fit in that description. It really doesn’t tell you 10 percent of why you would be interested, truly.”

Emmy-nominated actor Jim Parsons' acting roots start in Houston by Andrew Dansby

Houston Chronicle

BURBANK, CALIF. — The cameras aren’t rolling on the set of TV’s The Big Bang Theory. Actor Jim Parsons sits on a couch, in his character Sheldon Cooper’s spot, lost in thought.

This day has entailed mostly rehearsals and camera set-ups for the season’s third episode. The pace has been impressive: a bar scene, followed by a kitchen scene, followed by a couch scene as the production moves from one set to another. Big Bang’s apartment building on the Warner Bros. lot seems Picasso-esque, with the cubed sets lined up one next to another rather than laid out as they’d be in a real structure. Parsons is thinking over a tweak to the script just suggested by series creator Chuck Lorre.

The show begins its third season with reason for enthusiasm. A few years after some thought the traditional sitcom was dying, The Big Bang Theory shows great promise. Its audience has grown over the past two years, and CBS has ordered not just a third but also a fourth season. The show now occupies a desirable time slot after hit comedy Two and a Half Men. And Parsons is also nominated for best comedy actor at tonight’s Emmy show.

Parsons is part of a lovable ensemble that gives life to intriguing characters in a simple premise. He plays Sheldon Cooper, a physicist. He and his physicist roommate Leonard (Johnny Galecki) have a nerdy social circle that includes another physicist and an engineer. Comfort zones are nudged to different degrees when they become friends with Sheldon and Leonard’s neighbor Penny, a waitress played by Kaley Cuoco.

Veteran director Mark Cendrowski keeps a loose set on Big Bang. Each scene is assigned a letter. When a scene is called for set up, crew members play a little game, shouting out 1980s music acts that start with that letter.

Scene A is called. ABBA is the first name shouted and gets a tepid response. Somebody tries Adam Ant and gets cheers. Cuoco tries Aerosmith, a sweet, funny choice in line with the fact she was born in 1985. Boos ensue from crew members who remember the ’70s.

Amid the play, Parsons is figuring out some of the complex rhythms required of his character, who must rattle off line after line of tightly composed, rhythmic dialogue, and then do something with his face or body during the silence that follows. The night after these rehearsals, those silences will be filled with laughter from a studio audience.

“When he listens he’s in character, when he walks he’s in character, when he sits down he’s in character,” Lorre says. “It involves a great deal of thought. And his instincts are uncanny. You can’t teach that. It’s wonderful to be near it and watch it.”

Later, when asked if he thinks acting was an inevitable thing for him to do, Parsons immediately answers, “Yes.” He pauses a moment, as Sheldon might, but rather than waiting for laughter, he’s composing a story. Parsons speaks fluidly like somebody who spends his time studying words, without fractured sentences.

He tells about how his mother kept a little scrapbook that listed things like his favorite colors and what he wanted to do when he grew up. “From a very early age, I said ‘movie star,’” he says. “I couldn’t have known what that meant, as far as fame — that didn’t make sense to me. But I knew I wanted to act. There were brief bleeps like teacher and meteorologist, but (acting) was there from day one. Why? I have no idea. I was given plenty of attention as a child.”

Parsons, 36, knew the role of Sheldon was a bazinga moment. He was living in New York, having established a strong theater background in Houston, where he was a founding member of the Infernal Bridegroom theater company as well as a Stages Repertory Theatre regular. In New York he found theater work and spot roles on TV, though the process was sometimes disappointing for the little-known actor: He’d audition for 15 to 30 pilots per season. Sometimes he’d not get the role, sometimes he would, then the show wouldn’t get picked up.

Parsons was instantly drawn to the rhythms of Sheldon’s speech. “I felt very strongly about the structure of it and the way they laid out the character and the way he talked,” he says. “It was a one-in-a-million match.”

Parsons’ and Sheldon’s pitch and cadences overlap a bit, but it’s clear Parsons is embodying a character. That said, his transformation looks effortless. He chews up the bigger words and longer sentences, nearly singing them as Sheldon. But a physical aspect to his work suggests silent film stars like Buster Keaton. He does several takes of a slightly sinister Pavlovian scene involving Cuoco’s character and chocolate. Each time he gently manipulates his slowly spreading Grinch-like grin to different effect.

Jason Nodler, the artistic director for Houston’s The Catastrophic Theatre, was, like Parsons, a founding member of Infernal Bridegroom. Nodler, a fan of Big Bang Theory, says, “I recognize every move Jim makes on that show. It’s just a natural part of his physical vocabulary. He’s a naturally gifted physical comedian.”

The show has five strong characters at its center, and their interaction is crucial to its success. But Parsons’ work earned him the Emmy nomination.

He’s quick to deflect credit. Of the physical aspect of his character, he says it was there from the pilot episode, when Penny sits in his spot on the couch. “It’s like when he’s searching for his seat, some of his lines will be his movement.”

As for the chewy dialogue, he says, “I love having to ferret out that rhythm that’s within there. But I wouldn’t pat myself on the back too hard, the writers make it very evident.

“But it was really a thing that moved me, more than the story, when I read the pilot.”

Parsons thinks his Houston background — the breadth and pace of his work here — is integral in his success.

It started poorly. After graduating from Klein Oak High School, Parsons attended University of Houston, where a classmate urged him to audition for a production of Samuel Beckett’s Endgame. Parsons was deeply intrigued by the material, but says he wasn’t quite comfortable with the work. He missed a few rehearsals and had a meeting with the director. “I just wasn’t at peace with it,” he says. “And it’s no picnic putting Endgame on. It’s a great joy, but also a little rough-edged.”

Once the production was complete, though, he threw himself into acting, doing 17 plays in three years, everything from works by Bertolt Brecht to Guys and Dolls.

He recalls doing children’s theater during the day, rehearsing during the afternoons and doing plays like Georg Büchner’s murderous 19th-century play Woyzeck at night.

“I didn’t have a life,” he says. “I thought I did.

“But I had those opportunities at IBP and U of H. Houston was a great environment. Texas is a funny place in general. It’s not even like two sides of a coin, it’s more like a hexagonal Dungeons and Dragons die. People make a lot of assumptions about it, but it was fulfilling and nurturing to work there.

“There’s no learning like the doing. When you’re doing that many different types of things on that many types of stages, you don’t know the effect it has while you’re doing it. On one level, it made it hard to throw me. I’ve done it. I guess I haven’t performed on a sinking Titanic … but I’m young yet.”

Nodler says much of the work they did together at IBP was “awfully dark.”

“But there was always some comic element. Jim always did a beautiful job. Even when something was dark, he was always funny. He can’t help but be funny.”

Parsons left Houston in 1999, though he still gets back often to see friends and family. He attended grad school in San Diego and eventually moved to New York, where he quickly found work off Broadway.

There were small TV parts and also a well-known Quiznos commercial where — when asked if he were raised by wolves — he was nuzzling and suckling with some wolf pups.

Then came Sheldon.

Lorre knew Parsons understood the character on his first audition. “We knew we were witnessing something astonishing,” he says. Lorre was so impressed he asked Parsons to return to make sure his audition wasn’t a fluke.

“He’s a force of nature. He really is that good.”

Acting can be an art, but, not surprisingly for a guy who plays a physicist, Parsons sees the math in it.

“Muddied comedy isn’t comedy,” he says. “Well, that may not be true for all comedy, but overall I feel there’s this tremendous amount of precise work that goes into lining all the pieces so you can have what appears to be the chaos of it. To put it in the basest terms, you can’t really fall down. You have to plan for it.”

On the surface, Big Bang Theory is a traditional sitcom. It has multiple cameras. It’s written with breaks for the audience’s laughter.

But it’s a different traditional sitcom, which has likely endeared it to its viewers. The science squad possesses greater numerical aptitude than your average viewer, but their interactions — immediate and their code-like subtexts — all ring true, like a geeky variation of Rock Paper Scissors that includes lizards and Spock (who gets disproved by paper).

Sometimes Sheldon’s jokes are full of heady language written with rhythm and purpose.

“I’m a Sagittarius, which probably tells you way more than you need to know,” Penny says in one episode.

“Yes,” Sheldon replies. “It tells us that you participate in the mass cultural delusion that the sun’s apparent position relative to arbitrarily defined constellations at the time of your birth somehow affects your personality.”

Other times the lines are more efficient. When he asks what to order in a restaurant he gets a cliche in response. Everything’s good. “Statistically unlikely,” he quips.

Parsons points out that when studying theater, people are taught that theatrical events come about from ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances.

“This is the reverse,” he says. “It’s putting extraordinary people in ordinary circumstances.”

Penny is a portal and also an agitator. Her interactions with Leonard feel familiar to anyone involved in a sort of young urban tribe. Outside relationships threaten its fabric.

Over two seasons the show courted a growing audience with its characters.

Parsons, in particular, has drawn much attention. Last month he won a comedy award from the Television Critics Association, which also honored the show. At tonight’s Emmys, Parsons and Flight of the Conchords’ Jemaine Clement are the newcomers in a best-actor field that includes Alec Baldwin, Tony Shalhoub, Steve Carell and Charlie Sheen.

Parsons talks about it with Sheldon’s jittery manner, only the mix of excitement, restraint and wonder isn’t in tune with his character’s numerical precision.

“I still feel this certain sensation that it’s happening to somebody else,” he says. “But I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t exciting. I’m already nervous about being there, which is goofy; there’s not much expected of me. I just walk in and sit down. But there’s no script available. Just to go there and be there.”

He pauses a beat as Sheldon might.

“My mother was excited.”

Big Bang generates harmonic convergence with its cast by Margaret Wappler

Los Angeles Times

J.J. Abrams may have muscled up his version of “Star Trek,” but the franchise will always be the domain of pencil-thin, graph-paper-pale geeks like the Caltech prodigies on CBS’ “The Big Bang Theory.”

Exhibit A: The popular YouTube video of Sheldon, played with spazzy flair by Jim Parsons, explaining the rules of Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lizard, Spock.

“It’s very simple: Scissors cuts paper, paper covers rock, rock crushes lizard, lizard poisons Spock, Spock smashes scissors, scissors decapitates lizard, lizard eats paper, paper disproves Spock, Spock vaporizes rock and, as it always has, rock crushes scissors.”

That kind of giddy celebration of the nerd mind has given the program, created by Bill Prady and Chuck Lorre, a steadily growing audience, with promise for more: The show, which netted 9.76 million viewers for its second season finale on May 11, was picked up in March for two more years in a multimillion-dollar deal.

On a sunny afternoon in Hollywood, Parsons, along with the show’s other lead geek, seasoned sitcomer Johnny Galecki, met in a fancy diner to ponder their luck.

“It’s security I never dreamed I’d be able to say I have,” Parsons says. The Houston-native actor, who was a regular on “Judging Amy,” is wittily verbose like his character, but he doesn’t pretend to have the scientific aptitude.

When asked if he’s learned any new concepts from the show — Schrodinger’s cat, anyone? — he blinks his blue eyes and says, “Learned? More like memorized in less than a week and then promptly forgotten.”

Galecki, who’s still fondly remembered as Darlene’s slouchy boyfriend on “Roseanne,” plays Leonard, the straight nerd to Sheldon’s fussy one. For him, two more years means “so many more lines. It’s not like we get to just sit back now.”

Well, maybe some of them do. Listen to Galecki and Parsons talk about costar Kaley Cuoco, who plays Penny, the sweet but dippy waitress next door, and you might believe she has super-powers.

“I don’t know how she does it,” Parsons says conspiratorially, “but she always has every single word memorized.”

“She never makes a mistake,” Galecki adds.

Even a moment that takes on a life of its own, like Lizard, Spock, can come with a cost. “That scene was my nightmare,” Parsons says. “I kept mixing it all up and making the wrong hand signal.”

Despite the intricate monologues and Vulcan salutes that will surely come with two more years, the stars, in some ways, can put up their feet a bit. Galecki, for instance, has learned to play Leonard with a little more cool than in the first season.

“I’d watch the show and see moments where I worked some gesture too much or overemphasized my walk. But I realize now that I can just relax into it. It’s all muscle memory now.”

But muscle memory doesn’t make up for a grueling schedule of rehearsal, memorization and rewrites. “We’re pretty serious about silly,” Galecki says. “We don’t really do pranks on set.”

Is that mood due to pressure from the famously spirited Chuck Lorre? The reigning maestro of the sitcom, with hits including “Dharma & Greg” and “Grace Under Fire” under his belt, has been known to clash with TV critics and his leading ladies of yore, such as Brett Butler.

“I’d heard those stories about Chuck too,” Galecki says. “But it’s never been the case for me. He’s working too hard for any of that.”

Lorre, a one-time guitarist for hire, has “this incredible ear,” Galecki says. “He can just hear the beats and inflections of dialogue. I’ll step into his office and he’ll be playing the guitar between writing bits.”

By all accounts, “The Big Bang Theory” is a harmonious set. In addition to group trips to Comic-Con and the like, the actors will sometimes get together or go to see a movie.

But Galecki points out that since they got the two-year thumbs up, they’re not hanging out with the same frequency.

“We’ve been through the honeymoon period,” he says. “We’ll be riding this wave together for a while.”

A nerdy comedy's winning formula by John Jurgensen

Wall street journal

BURBANK, Calif. — During a recent taping of CBS’s “The Big Bang Theory,” the opening scene featured some unlikely dialogue for a prime-time comedy, including references to galactic dark matter and high-energy positrons. Almost as unusual as the science jargon: the live studio audience laughing at it.

Comedies are facing a tough crowd on broadcast television. Just four comedy series were introduced on the major networks this fall, and only three of those have survived. Now, with a potential actors strike looming, networks are increasingly drawing on nonunion reality shows. The group of midseason network shows slated for early 2009 doesn’t feature any new comedies. Traditional sitcoms, in particular, have fallen out of fashion as networks ditched the laugh track in recent years for “dramedies” such as “Desperate Housewives” and fresher formats in the vein of the mock documentary “The Office.” In this setting, staging sitcoms for live audiences has the co-creator of “The Big Bang Theory,” Chuck Lorre, feeling like “the last guy standing in a dodgeball game.”

The show, which revolves around two socially challenged physicists and their comely female neighbor, has sprouted into a hit. Among viewers ages 18 to 49, “Big Bang” currently outranks all comedies launched in the last two years, according to the Nielsen Company. It debuted in fall 2007, part of a lineup of shows whose season was cut short by last winter’s writers strike. Few bounced back. But “Big Bang” has hit a string of series-high ratings this season. The show airs its final new episode of the year Monday night before returning with new shows on Jan. 12.

The dwindling of sitcoms in prime time doesn’t mean America’s collective sense of humor has radically changed. “Sitcoms are like the American car industry — there’s still great potential there, but the question is how do they succeed when people have gotten used to all the other options,” says Michael Kantor, creator of “Make ‘Em Laugh,” a six-part documentary on the evolution of American comedy that will air on PBS next month. “With all the innovative single-camera comedy programs and the documentary-style filming, the laugh track really feels like it’s from another era.”

Whiteboards often appear on the “Big Bang” set, scrawled with arcane equations, but the formula the show itself follows is far simpler. The central characters, Leonard (played by Johnny Galecki, who starred on “Roseanne” as a teen) and Sheldon (newcomer Jim Parsons) are “brilliant in how their minds work, but inept in ways the normal civilian takes for granted, which is hopefully where we mine a lot of comedy,” Mr. Lorre says.

In “The Bath Item Gift Hypothesis,” the episode taped the week of Thanksgiving, the duo’s neighbor Penny (Kaley Cuoco) proposes an exchange of Christmas gifts. Sheldon debunks the holiday he describes as “the ancient pagan festival of Saturnalia,” and tries to shun her present, which will require from him “a gift of commensurate value and representing the same perceived level of friendship,” he says. “It’s no wonder suicide rates skyrocket this time of year.” Sheldon is then forced into alien territory — a bath and body store — to shop for gift baskets with Spock-like logic.

Sheldon is the main engine for the show’s geek dynamic. He has a huge I.Q. but no aptitude for social niceties nor discernible interest in the opposite sex. Mr. Parsons, tall and thin with an elfin face, plays him haughty and hyper, often pitching his voice into a squeak of indignation or alarm. Sheldon’s roommate Leonard yearns for social acceptance and — in another engine for the show — a romantic shot with Penny. For her part, Penny is at ease in the world, a sucker for hunks and, in her often mortified response to the guys’ brainy antics, a proxy for viewers.

“It’s a good device, juxtaposing that culture of nerds,” says George F. Smoot, a “Big Bang” fan who’s particularly familiar with that social segment; Dr. Smoot is a physics professor at Berkeley whose Nobel Prize-winning research helped shape the actual Big Bang Theory. While the characters’ awkward social tics are “a little overdrawn,” he says, he appreciates how the show represents a population whose job it is to think rigorously. Dr. Smoot was invited to make a cameo on “Big Bang” this season, but his teaching and travel schedule got in the way.

In the show’s original pilot episode, the Penny character (portrayed by a different actress) was a hard-drinking woman with a caustic attitude toward the nerds next door. It didn’t work. “The audience hated her because they were so protective of these little lambs,” Mr. Lorre says. In a rare move, CBS ordered a second pilot. Mr. Lorre and co-creator Bill Prady rewrote the script, transforming Penny and adding two more scientists to the ensemble: Howard (Simon Helberg), a randy aerospace engineer who lives with his mom, and Rajesh (Kunal Nayyar), who goes mute in the presence of women.

Like the show itself, however, these characters haven’t become household names — no Kramers or Phoebes here. That helps illustrate how the parameters for a hit have shifted for network comedies as audiences have splintered, pulled away by cable television, the Internet and other entertainment options. This week, at its highest ratings so far, “Big Bang” pulled in just over 10 million total viewers. For comparison, Mr. Galecki reflects back on his days on “Roseanne” in the 1990s: “We were bummed if we were under 28 million.”

Now, the closest thing to a “Seinfeld” or “Friends,” at least in sheer numbers, is “Two and a Half Men,” the Charlie Sheen sitcom anchoring the successful Monday comedy block that “Big Bang” kicks off at 8 p.m. Also co-created by Mr. Lorre, “Two and a Half Men” averages about 14 million total viewers; out of the 25 top-ranked shows, it’s the only traditional multi-camera sitcom.

Much of the grist for “Big Bang” came from Mr. Prady. Though a veteran producer of shows such as “Gilmore Girls” and “Dharma & Greg,” he’s also a former RadioShack salesman and computer programmer who stumbled into the television business after selling his share of a software company in 1983. For “Big Bang,” he drew inspiration from his own awkward episodes and the quirks of his programming buddies, piquing Mr. Lorre’s interest with real characters like the math whiz who struggled to compute a restaurant tip because of too many variables in the service.

As for the science (and science fiction) concepts on the show, Mr. Prady says, “there are two kinds of sesquipedalian dialogue.” There’s the variety that comes from the writers’ wonky expertise, such as the debate the guys have over how Superman can get sweat stains out of his outfit if his perspiration, like him, is indestructible.

The other kind of dialogue, based on hardcore science, comes from UCLA professor David Saltzberg, an astrophysicist who vets the science on “Big Bang.” (For example, he makes sure all the equations on the whiteboards are real.) Recently, the writers asked him to tell them about some fresh area of research that would undermine the work of a character on the show. The result: the introduction of an alpha-male physicist who has won a MacArthur “genius” grant for his research on galactic dark matter. “Big deal,” Leonard says about his rival’s award. “It’s like prom queen for smart people.”

On the “Big Bang” stage, a maze of plywood walls, diorama-like sets and pockets of open space where cast and crew wage fierce ping-pong tournaments during shooting breaks, a cluster of writers and producers gathered to watch a rehearsal. They looked down from a tier of seats that audience members would fill during the live taping that night. Mr. Lorre turned to Mr. Prady and mentioned a newspaper article about new research suggesting a shadow universe of dark matter, or even another dimension, based on particle activity in space. “The particles are leaking into our universe?” Mr. Prady asked, sounding pleased about the idea.

When the devices of “Big Bang” are working — be they physics concepts, videogame jokes, or Renaissance fair costumes — it’s only because audiences have embraced the characters, the producers say. “Everyone goes through life with the sense that somebody else has it all figured out. The point of these characters is, you can be the smartest people in the world and you’re still an outsider,” Mr. Prady says. “The essence of comedy,” he adds, “is pain.”