Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: SATURDAY, September 24, 1994                   TAG: 9411050024
SECTION: SPECTATOR                    PAGE: 1   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: JAMES ENDRST THE HARTFORD COURANT
DATELINE: NEW YORK                                 LENGTH: Medium

COLEMAN IS CRANKY, CONFIDENT - JUST LIKE HIS CHARACTER

Sure, the curmudgeonly actor who has made a career out of being a major, on-screen grouch - most notably in TV's ``Buffalo Bill'' and the feature film ``9 to 5'' - knows why he's here. He's supposed to sit down over coffee in this posh Central Park hotel, make nice and plug away.

He's supposed to talk in a deeply interested and, hopefully, entertaining manner about his starring role as Jack Buckner, a famous and (of course) cantankerous magazine columnist who hates bosses but now finds himself working for his daughter Meg (Cynthia Gibb).

And if the Emmy-winning Coleman wasn't averse to the idea and cared to prepare for such questions, he might even throw in a knowing comment or two about the exalted time slot his new sitcom is getting Thursday nights, after ``Seinfeld'' (at 9:30 on WSLS-Channel 10).

But, no. Coleman makes it clear rather early on - if you were thick or unrealistic enough to have any doubts about it - that he doesn't play the game that way.

``My theory about talk shows and interviews is: Talk about anything other than the show - and, possibly, other than the business,'' he says. ``That's what I think makes people really want to watch, because what people say about their show is so predictable and so cliche and so. ...''

Coleman ends the thought with an everyday expletive. But the 62-year-old Texas native - who's got a baleful stare that looks like it could break your legs - means it in the best possible way.

``Did you ever hear anybody say, `Well, we have a good show, except I just don't like the cast'?'' he asks. Well, noooo. But. ...

``I like to go to bars and smoke and drink and talk. And I like that a lot. I'm very passionate about that,'' he says. ``And I like to play tennis, keep in shape and all that, because the better shape I'm in, the more I can drink.''

OK, so how about tennis? Maybe we can hit a winner with a combined focus, like, ``Who's the madman of center court?''

``Oh, there's only one,'' says Coleman, naming John McEnroe, going on to talk about some of his favorite tennis players, including Pancho Gonzales.

When Coleman, a wiry but impressive presence, speaks admiringly about competitors in any pursuit, the word he often uses is ``dangerous,'' which makes his interviewer that much more cautious.

Sticking to the subject, especially when it becomes obvious that it's one of Coleman's favorites, we talk about the U.S. Open for a while, and we mention Ken Rosewall as an all-time favorite.

Ah, the heck with it. Let's talk about the show, one of several from super-producer Aaron Spelling this season.

Best not to ask whether Jack Buckner is Buffalo Bill all over again, because that would be too obvious. After all, Coleman's last two series - ``The `Slap' Maxwell Story'' and ``Drexell's Class'' - were mere variations on the theme, and neither one was a ratings success (though some critics loved Coleman's sportswriting Slap).

So maybe the question should be, ``Do you like Jack Buckner and like playing this kind of a character?''

``I like the guy,'' says Coleman, perhaps not surprisingly, since they seem so much alike. ``He's a rebel and unpredictable and has that edge to him, and that's fun.''

It was the script, says Coleman, that sold him on the project, though he notes, ``If you do a series of any kind, it's dangerous because all you get to see is a pilot, and you're talking about the potential of 100 to 150 shows if it's successful. But I don't remember a sitcom ever that made you laugh and cry [like this one].''

We do. ``Frank's Place'' was just one of them, but we don't bring it up. Still, the job has to get done, so, what about getting back into the pressure-filled business of prime-time TV. ...

``I really don't think about things like that, whether it'll be successful or not,'' says Coleman, politely batting away the question. ``I think about whether it's going to be good. I think about that a lot.''

Yeah, but it is a very competitive night. ...

``Is it?'' he says with a wry, back-at-ya grin. ``OK.''

And there's got to be some pressure from the network. ...

``I feel fortunate,'' he says, holding back a sigh. ``And then that's the end of it. I don't feel responsible. I don't feel that I owe them anything. It doesn't scare me. It doesn't thrill me. It doesn't do any of that.''