We're pleased as punch to welcome Danielle to the Smarty Pants stage with this hard-hitting piece of journalism, which was originally published on Antenna Free TV.
I’ve never been a literary snob, as evidenced by the fact that a) I read approximately 195 installments of The Baby-sitters Club series between 1989 and 1992, and b) had beef with only one detail: that the first chapter of each book was monopolized by character introductions I’d near-memorized by title #3, The Truth About Stacey (the one where Stacey comes out as…a diabetic).
Where my lit discernment lagged, though, my perceived prowess as a burgeoning television critic (aka kid who watched too much TV) kicked in. So when HBO announced a series based on my beloved gaggle of teen caretakers, I was skeptical.
Not skeptical enough to refrain from cartwheels upon unwrapping a VHS of the pilot episode at my eleventh birthday party. But skeptical. As odds went, I was as likely to need to shave my legs in 1990 as I was to feel sold on a celluloid take on Stoneybrook, Connecticut – hometown of the babysitters, so lovingly etched onto my prepubescent imagination.
Regardless, plastic wrap was torn off that videotape. The VCR was fired up. And, party games be damned, The Baby-sitters Club: Mary Anne and the Brunettes was popped in.
There were the anticipated interpretation differences: Whereas my imagined Stoneybrook looked a lot like my own blue-collar hometown (cut me a break; I’d barely left South Jersey) and heartthrob Logan Bruno like a cleaner-cut River Phoenix, the HBO versions were...stonier. And gawkier. Respectively.
Even beyond my personal preferences, though, my skepticism was quickly validated. Mary Anne and the Brunettes is pretty low-budg.
Past credits from producer Scholastic Media included Charles in Charge and The Adventures of a Two-Minute Werewolf, so we can assume HBO knew it wasn’t getting Citizen Kane. Still, the writing is pretty tawdry, even by aimed-at-preteens standards. Kellie Martin’s people would have thanks-but-no-thanks’d the crap out of that first table read.
But I was eleven. Karate class marked the extent of my social calendar. So I watched "Mary Anne and the Brunettes" approximately ninety-seven times over the next year, while simultaneously developing an eye for spotting Baby-sitters Club actresses elsewhere on TV (like in tampon commercials and on Clarissa Explains It All).
The episode gist: Babysitter Mary Anne’s boyfriend, Logan, has sights set on him by a conniving trio of girls eager to transfer his affections onto their ringleader, Marci. Their cruel intentions are (spoiler alert!) foiled by our babysitters, whose retaliation methods include pies-in-faces and that old civil rights era standby, dousing-by-hose.
Before getting walloped by provisions, though, the mean threesome gets a good bit of screen time. And when it does, chieftain Marci (below right) is invariably flanked by her two cronies:
Center crony, in polka dots, is referred to as Patti.
Crony on the left gets some killer eye-rolling moments, but no name:
We can somewhat confidently assume she’s “Kathi,” since Kathi, played by Jessica Zoel, appears in the end credits beneath Patti and Marci (we’re conveniently aided in this assumption by the fact that all three of their names end in “i”):
Now let’s flash forward twenty years, to 2010. I possess a Gillette for Her, as well as a bit more discernment on the media front - evidenced by my contemporary serial obsession, AMC’s critically acclaimed Mad Men.
In Mad Men’s season four finale, enigmatic lead Don Draper (Jon Hamm), an ad man whose secretive past is largely to blame for his recent divorce, shocks by proposing to his young secretary, Megan. The shock is compounded by Don’s straightforward admission of his duplicity to his new fiancé (who takes it like a champ).
Fiancé Megan is portrayed by actress Jessica Paré:
My viewing habits aren’t the only things that have changed since the first Gulf War. There’s now access to a thing called the Internet, allowing me to research my favorite shows without the involvement of microfiche, TV Guide, and/or tantrums when loved ones obstruct views of the screen during credits. And so, in a fit of fandom, I scope out Jessica Paré. My foremost intention, if I recall, was to uncover her age - because when you’re 33, you just want to be assured there are still young-looking actors on TV who are actually as old as you.
Paré fails me. Online entertainment database IMDB.com says she was born in 1982.
But another detail catches my eye, eclipsing any age-related neuroses: According to IMDB, Paré’s lone credit before 1999 is HBO’s The Baby-sitters Club. Specifically, episode #1: "Mary Anne and the Brunettes":
One giddy tap of the touchpad later, I discover Paré portrayed an unnamed character in "Mary Anne and the Brunettes." Of note: She is the only actor in the episode who is not attributed, on IMDB, to a specific role:
Paré would’ve been no older than seven during filming. And so, like any self-respecting adult, I drive thirty minutes to my parents’ house to snag my old "Mary Anne and the Brunettes" VHS, eager to track down Mrs. Draper 2.0 in child actor form.
I settle in, sing along to the sugary theme song that might’ve been the cause of Stacey’s diabetes, and do inventory of the kids with speaking roles.
No Paré.
I watch again, with an eye on the unnamed and non-speaking kids that flank every other scene.
Still no dice. Maybe I missed her in a crowd scene?
I scan the episode one last time. Two-thirds of the way through, my eyes fall on the jawline of unnamed-mean-girl-who’s-likely-Kathi (in fuchsia, center):
Is Zoel, listed in the episode end credits as “Kathi,” (but, interestingly, nowhere to be found on IMDB) synonymous with Paré (Mad Men star absent from "Mary Anne and the Brunettes" end credits, but tied to the episode via IMDB)?
“Kathi” third from right
My initial reaction is that the two actresses can’t be interchangeable, because of the age discrepancy. But then I notice Wikipedia states Paré’s birth year not as 1982, but as 1980:
It’s still a stretch. A late 1980 birth date would make Paré no older than nine when portraying Kathi, a middle-schooler, in 1990. And I personally think Kathi appears to be at least twelve or thirteen. However, it’s not unheard of for actors to publicly shave a few years off their ages. The fact that Paré’s birth year appears inconsistently online only underscores the possibility that she’s among these ranks. Has Paré’s camp maybe changed her last name and detached her from the “Kathi” role on IMDB because either or both might give away her actual age?
“Kathi” on right
I should point out that IMDB is a crowd-sourced website; content is entered by users. This sourced info is vetted by IMDB, but errors have been known to go live. Kathi or not, there’s always the chance someone erroneously “spotted” Jessica Paré in "Mary Anne and the Brunettes," and posted as much on IMDB (abetted, perhaps, by the fact that Zoel and Paré share a first name).
Even if such an error got past IMDB powers-that-be, though, why hasn’t Paré’s camp had it removed – especially considering mention of her Baby-sitters Club past occasionally shows up in her press, like in this excerpt from a 2010 story on allvoices.com:
Now, I’ve admittedly found no evidence that Paré’s last name was once Zoel. And there’s always a chance Paré simply played an extra in "Mary Anne and the Brunettes" that I’ve been unable to spot. Neither off these scenarios explains why both the “Kathi” role and Jessica Zoel are missing from IMDB, though. Why the absence of this one mean girl when the other two are represented?
Admittedly, my inner Nancy Drew hopes Baby-sitters Club’s Kathi and Mad Men’s Megan are both played by Jessica Paré. But I’m motivated by more than just novelty or self-aggrandizing: Considering Mad Men's essence lies in its esoteric lead, I’d find added value in knowing Don’s wife, characterized so heavily by her graceful and wide-eyed response to his multi-layered past, is portrayed by an actress who herself might know a thing or two about pseudonyms, well-tailored histories and the mystique of keeping them guessing.
Danielle is a freelance writer and recovering reality TV producer. She spent a summer in the Cash Cab and a few seasons helping homeowners trade spaces, but is happiest watching Little House on the Prairie reruns and exploring bygone places. She apologizes for that unintended rhyme. Marvel at her creative Twitter handle: @DanielleBurrows.