Brilliant, fascinating documentary following the lives of a "typical American family" in Santa Barbara, CA, during the early 1970's. The 12 part series was commissioned for PBS, running every Thursday night from January 11, 1973, through March 29, 1973. At the time, I was 8 years old, and I recall much of the controversy surrounding the program, as well as my own family's reaction to it.<br /><br />Unfortunately, the Loud family purportedly received tremendous public criticism as being cold, materialistic, unsympathetic figures. Having recently viewed the series in its entirety, I find these accusations completely unwarranted. I came of age in the same era; I can say quite honestly that the Louds weren't much different from my own family or any others in our neighborhood for that matter. Admittedly, they were a bit more affluent than "average Americans", but the family dynamics were just the same. They had the same fears, the same desires, the same inability to communicate their feelings that every other American family of the 1970's had.<br /><br />The series was certainly groundbreaking. Remember, this preceded The Real World by 20 years. The idea of following real people 24 hours a day, 7 days a week to present the whole life experience had never been done before. Make no mistake, though, this is NOT the reality TV foisted on the public today. There's little cursing, no hair-pulling, no fistfights, and none of the trailer-park exploitation fed to Nielsen families in the new millennium. Those who enjoy the obscenity of a Jerry Springer episode definitely should avoid this series.<br /><br />Although the filmmakers have also been criticized for using their camera to manipulate emotions, the series does appear to be a genuine attempt to simply chronicle the lives of ordinary people. Only once does an obvious manipulation occur, a dramatic cliffhanger at the end of the 8th episode when Pat Loud has decided to divorce her husband, and son Grant is forced to pick his dad up at the airport, knowing exactly what will transpire when they get home.<br /><br />Additionally, far too much has been written about flamboyant son Lance and the infamous episode in which he "comes out" to mother Pat. Although Lance is a wonderfully outrageous presence and enlivens the scenes in which he appears, he really doesn't dominate the series to the extent one would think. I actually identified more with youngest brother Grant, who at 17, just wanted to strum his guitar and enjoy his last summer before adulthood, while dad Bill preferred his son work. With five children, there are many different archetypes to be found here. I find it difficult to believe that someone couldn't identify with at least one.<br /><br />An American Family is best viewed from a cultural and sociological context. Indeed, anyone interested in the era should seek out this program. Even when the situations and dialog fail to engage (there are plenty of low-key moments amidst the angst), it's fun to watch a filmed time capsule of 1971 where you can see dial telephones, pop-top beer cans, smoking in retail shops, and defunct airlines like Pan Am. Of course, this is essentially a real-life soap opera, so many poignant moments occur. The scenes where Pat and Bill attend a Santa Barbara fiesta are almost painful to watch, not because of what is said, but because of what isn't. The look on Pat's face as she carefully watches Bill talk animatedly with another woman speaks volumes about the state of their fragile marriage. Another sad moment comes in the now infamous footage of Lance riding his bike through the hills of Santa Barbara, while in voice-over, Bill reads a letter to his son explaining the destruction of the marriage and how he hopes one day he and his son can be friends. Despite the occasionally banal dialog and petty squabbles, this is obviously a family with whom love is deep yet unspoken, and emotions that are universal.<br /><br />Some have deemed An American Family tragic. I don't think it is tragic from the standpoint that one son was gay or that the parents' marriage dissolved. I don't even think it's tragic because the filming of their lives perhaps accelerated certain unpleasant events, leaving Lance to decry later, "Television ate my family." No, the real tragedy here is that the Louds were really no different from your own friends and family and neighbors, and they still aren't. 35 years later, Americans are no better at communication and solving problems. As a society, we apparently haven't learned any lessons from history either. It's easy to look at another family and pass judgment, especially when the unhappiness you see is secretly a reflection of your own unsatisfied life. Truthfully, the American family is even more broken now than ever before, which ironically, gives this series more relevance today than it had 35 years ago.<br /><br />**** out of 4 stars