Directed by James Burrows

“Being directed by the Jimmy Burrows, while on Friends, was like hitting the jackpot. He’s directed some of the greatest television shows in history, and I’m grateful for having had the chance to work with him. I’m delighted that everyone can now share in his incredible insight with this book. He’s an American treasure and a living legend who will forever be part of my family.”—Jennifer Aniston

“As we pursued parallel careers during the ’70s and ’80s, I could not have admired Jim Burrows more. Watching Cheers, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, and Taxi, touched and influenced me enormously. There has not been a more efficient, effective, creative, and admirable television director’s career than the one established by Jim Burrows. Recently and for the first time, I have been working with him and consider myself a lucky dude.”—Norman Lear

“Jimmy directs with the skill of a legendary conductor. More than anyone else, he listens to the musicality of the comedy and understands the power of movement in escalating the poignancy of the moment. How wonderful that we now get a  look behind the proverbial curtain; to hear from a true master of his craft the stories and insights from a lifetime of iconic television creation.”—Debra Messing

“Jimmy hears the music.”—Chuck Lorre

“Jim Burrows could stage the Nuremberg trials and find more laughs there than most directors could in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. If you have owned a television in the last fifty years, this man has brought joy to your life; we all owe him a happy debt.”—Christopher Lloyd

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James Burrows with Eddy Friedfeld

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“Being directed by the Jimmy Burrows, while on Friends, was like hitting the jackpot. I’m delighted that everyone can now share in his incredible insight with this book.”—JENNIFER ANISTON

From the director of The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Taxi, Cheers, Frasier, and Will & Grace comes an insightful and nostalgic behind-the-scenes memoir that’s “as difficult to put down as a Friends marathon is to turn off” (The Washington Post).

Legendary sitcom director James Burrows has spent five decades making America laugh. Here readers will find never-revealed stories behind the casting of the dozens of great sitcoms he directed, as well as details as to how these memorable shows were created, how they got on the air, and how the cast and crew continued to develop and grow. Burrows also examines his own challenges, career victories, and defeats, and provides advice for aspiring directors, writers, and actors. All this from the man who helped launch the careers of Ted Danson, Kelsey Grammer, Woody Harrelson, Jennifer Aniston, Debra Messing, and Melissa McCarthy, to name a few. 

Burrows talks fondly about the inspiration he found during his childhood and young adult years, including his father, legendary playwright and Broadway director Abe Burrows. From there he goes on to explain his rigorous work ethic, forged in his early years in theater, where he did everything from stage managing to building sets to, finally, directing. Transitioning to television, Burrows locked into a coveted job with The Mary Tyler Moore Show, where he first observed and then started to apply his craft. Directing most of the episodes of Taxi came next, where he worked closely with writers/producers Glen and Les Charles. The three formed a remarkable creative partnership that helped Burrows achieve his much sought-after goal of ownership and agency over a project, which came with the creating and directing of the seminal and beloved hit Cheers. Burrows has directed more than seventy-five pilots that have gone to series and over a thousand episodes, more than any other director in history.

Directed by James Burrows is a heart-and-soul master class in sitcom, revealing what it truly takes to get a laugh.

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Growing Up


If it’s a girl, Phoebe; if it’s a boy, Phoebo.

Friends

James Edward Burrows was born in Los Angeles on December 30, 1940, but for as long as I can remember, I was Jimmy. I’m not sure where the James came from, but the Edward was after Ed Gardner, the star of the radio program Duffy’s Tavern and the best friend and mentor of my father, Abe. When I was five, we moved from Los Angeles back to New York City, which is where my childhood really began. We lived on the Upper West Side of Manhattan on 229 West 78th Street, between Amsterdam and Broadway, in a three-­bedroom apartment. It was here that my lifelong romance with sports began. On my bedroom wall I had taped up the cover of the first issue of Sports Illustrated, featuring Milwaukee Braves catcher Eddie Mathews and a picture of Dick Kazmaier, Princeton’s magnificent triple-­threat tailback. I was a big New York Yankees fan. I loved Mickey Mantle, Hank Bauer, Elston Howard, Yogi Berra, Phil Rizzuto, and Roger Maris. I saw Mantle hit home runs from both sides of the plate. I went to Ebbets Field for a World Series game. I watched Duke Snider play for the Brooklyn Dodgers.

My grandmother, Sarah, who spoke English with a Russian accent, lived nearby on 102nd and Broadway, on her own. She would come visit us often, a sweet and supportive fixture as we were growing up. My sister, Laurie, also possessed this same kindness, always looking to help others.

We were culturally Jewish but not very religious. Both my parents were agnostic atheists. My father was bar mitzvahed. My mom’s parents were Russian Jews, but religion was never an important part of their lives. They flirted in the 1930s with the whole communist movement, which was its own religion at the time, or at least a viable substitute for a conventional one. Both my parents spoke a little Yiddish. The expressions permeated and stuck with me. I heard pisk (mouth), machatunim (in-­laws), punim (face), and mishpucha (family). One word always struck me as weird-­sounding: fakeft, which means “beholden to.” I remember my father using it about one person who wanted to do a favor for him. He said, “No, I don’t want to be fakeft to him.” It’s a good word.

When I was twelve years old, I was asked if I wanted to have a bar mitzvah. I think if you give most Jewish boys at any point in our five-­thousand-­year history the choice of whether they want to put all the work into getting bar mitzvahed at that age, they’d probably decline. Which is what I did. But that’s not where that story ends. My first wife was conservative, and at her urging I got on the “Shul-­bus” and agreed to be bar mitzvahed when I was forty-­seven years old. The Charles Brothers said that I was the only man they knew who was bar mitzvahed at forty-­seven and lost his hair at thirteen.

What I do remember doing when I was thirteen was seeing movies. Fifty cents got you a ticket to a double feature and a newsreel. Before the Beacon Theater on Broadway and 74th Street became a live-­performance venue, it was a movie house. I went to see a double feature of Bwana Devil, with Robert Stack, Barbara Britton, and Nigel Bruce (Dr. Watson to Basil Rathbone’s Sherlock Holmes), and House of Wax, with Vincent Price. His muscular assistant, Igor, was played by Charles Bronson, in one of his first roles—­he was still using his real name, Charles Buchinsky. It was the first color 3D feature film from a major Am…