IF a set designer's mission is to capture characters' personalities, then imagine trying to decorate for the fictional Bluth family of "Arrested Development" -- some of the most neurotic, self-centered, financially and morally bankrupt, emotionally stunted and clinically lazy characters on television.
Take Lucille, the family's martini-swilling matriarch. Her need to control her grown children is so unrelenting, she adopted a Korean orphan just to alienate her biological son.
And that numskull? Buster is perhaps the world's oldest mama's boy, his unnaturally strong bond to Lucille attributed to "11 months in the womb."
But that's nothing next to Lucille's son-in-law, Tobias. He's a "never nude" -- someone whose psychological disorder compels him to always wear jeans cutoffs, even in the shower. Now, how does one decorate for that?
Such are the designing conundrums of the irreverent Fox series, which premieres its third season Monday. On Sunday, it tries to repeat its Emmy win last year for best comedy.
Production designer Dawn Snyder and set decorator Maureen Osborne see the fictional homes of the Bluth clan as cast members, akin to the straight man of a comedy routine.
One key set is the Newport Beach penthouse of Lucille (Jessica Walter), whose decor Snyder based on the Ritz-Carlton Laguna Niguel suite where the series pilot was filmed. At least at first glance, sophistication seeps from Lucille's brocade print wallpaper, her dupioni silk drapes, her abundant antiques. But the penthouse, like its occupant, carries only a veneer of class. That Tiffany-blue sofa with a fringe of gold? Sateen, not silk.
"The thing with Lucille is that she cares, but she doesn't care. She cares to look like she has money, but really, she doesn't care what the home actually looks like," Osborne says, citing a comic abundance of urns and what Snyder calls "a blend of Florida, Palm Springs and overzealous presidential decor." "We always felt like she thought of herself as the mayor's or president's wife," Osborne says. "It's almost tacky, but not quite."
The bedroom of son Buster (Tony Hale) reflects his status as a professional student who has been schooled in archeology, Native American drumming and 18th century agrarian business and yet has retained no discernible knowledge.
