Wednesday, June 25, 2014

The Disappearance of Murphy Brown

 
There is no pre-set formula for achieving classic TV status. But when a series stays on the air for 10 years, earns praise for the quality of its writing and ensemble cast, wins numerous Emmy Awards, and impacts the popular culture in a way that merits reference in nightly news broadcasts, that series almost inevitably qualifies as something special. 

So why has Murphy Brown, which did all of these things, not endured like, say, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, a series with very similar DNA?



I used to watch Murphy Brown every week. I looked forward to the recurring bits and gags, from Murphy’s love of (badly) singing classic Motown to her never-ending quest for a competent secretary. I enjoyed the visits from her mother, played by the wonderful Colleen Dewhurst, and the way the series blended fiction and reality by casting several prominent television journalists (Connie Chung, Linda Ellerbee, Joan Lunden) as Murphy’s antagonistic colleagues.

I remember the milestone episodes, such as when Murphy gave birth to her son, an event that generated headlines when Vice-President Dan Quayle questioned the wisdom of glorifying single-parent households. This inspired a brilliant episode in which Quayle’s comments were incorporated into the story, along with a few shots at the politician’s inability to spell “potato.” 



This was a show that seemed at home in the classic TV universe, never more so than when Marcia Wallace reprised her role as Carol Kester from The Bob Newhart Show. Finally, Murphy had capable help, at least until Bob Hartley (Newhart) arrived to entice her back to Chicago.

And yet, I have no desire to revisit these episodes. And I’m apparently not alone; the first season was released on DVD in 2005, but sales were so low that subsequent seasons are still not available. 



Why is that critical “re-watchability” factor that defines the Comfort TV era missing from this once popular and esteemed series? After pondering this question for a while I’ve come up with three possible answers.

1. It Came Along Too Late
The original run of Murphy Brown (1988-1998) emerged at a time when viewers were no longer embracing sitcoms the way they had in previous decades. While many of the series’ characters had real-world counterparts that were immediately recognizable, the Murphy Brown dramatis personae never became archetypes. Today’s cable news channels have no shortage of attractive blonde females, some with dubious journalism credentials, yet no one would ever refer to one of them as a Corky Sherwood (played on the series by Faith Ford). Despite 10 years and nearly 250 episodes, the characters introduced by the series never penetrated the pop culture as deeply as Ted Baxter or Lou Grant.

2. It Was On Too Long
Speaking of which – even the diehard Murphy Brown fans out there would concede that the show lost its mojo somewhere around season 5 or 6. Series creator Diane English left, as did reliable supporting players Pat Corley and Grant Shaud. The addition of Lily Tomlin probably seemed like an inspiration but it weakened the chemistry of the newsroom scenes. The final season presented a story arc in which Murphy was diagnosed with breast cancer. Several sources report that these episodes triggered an increase in mammograms, so it’s hard to disparage shows that may have actually saved some lives. But would you want to watch them again?

3. It Was Too Current
Name-dropping was a rich source of humor on Murphy Brown. But how many people today would laugh at a Strom Thurmond joke? Combine that dated quality with a stridency of one-sided political opinion, and the result is a series that may have played well in its day but now offers the same experience as reading an old newspaper. Contrast this with The Mary Tyler Moore Show, a newsroom-centric show that aired 20 years before Murphy Brown but resisted taking strong positions on the issues of the day. Back then, the first rule of situation comedy was to entertain, not proselytize; why alienate half of your audience?

Another 15 years have passed since Murphy Brown left the air, and television has since become even more hostile and more divisive. That inspires many of us to return to the Comfort TV of past generations. But where some shows age like fine wine, others sadly spoil like whole milk.

Murphy Brown deserved its praise and its Emmys. I’m glad Candace Bergen finally found a place to stretch her comedy skills after hosting several memorable Saturday Night Live episodes in the ‘70s. But if it’s all the same, I think I’d rather watch Chuckles bite the dust one more time. 


Sunday, June 15, 2014

The Chronicles of Riverdale: Archie Comics on Television

 
Seventy years in high school? Even a Kardashian could graduate in that time, but not Archie Andrews. He entered Miss Grundy’s class during World War II and is still there, sitting next to that putz Reggie.

Given the enduring popularity of Archie Comics it’s not surprising that television would try to adapt the saga of Riverdale’s oldest teenager. 



The first attempt was a 1964 pilot that failed to receive a series order. An appealing young cast (including bubbly ex-Mousketeer Cheryl Holdridge as Betty) might have helped the show find an audience, but we’ll never know now. Of course, had Archie been picked up, William Schallert (cast as Archie’s father) would not have been available to play Patty’s “Poppo” in The Patty Duke Show, and that’s an alternative classic TV universe I’d rather not visit. Check it out:




Animation seems like a more natural way to transfer these characters to TV, but despite several attempts the Archie gang never found a proper showcase. The Archie Show debuted in 1968 and was canceled in 1969. It was followed in rapid succession by Archie’s Fun House (1970-1971), Everything’s Archie (1973-1974), The US of Archie (1974-1976) and the Bang-Shang Lollapalooza Show (1977-1978), which I guess featured Jughead joining Jane’s Addiction. 



There were nine shows in all, none of which made a noticeable dent in the popular culture (outside of their musical component, which we’ll get to momentarily). Their failure is even more glaring given that two Archie Comics spinoff shows, Josie and The Pussycats and Sabrina the Teenage Witch, fared much better.

So what went wrong? Filmation did a serviceable job with the look of the various Archie shows – the animation was basic but colorful, no different than most Saturday morning cartoons. But that’s about all they got right.

The voices for the characters were not just ill-chosen, they were atrocious. Both Archie (Dallas McKennon) and Reggie (John Erwin) speak in harsh, grating tones. Veronica (Jane Webb) sounds like Penelope Pitstop on helium. Betty (also Jane Webb) fares somewhat better, but Jughead (Howard Morris) doesn’t sound anything like the laid-back hipster of the comics.

When you think of how well the producers of the Peanuts specials selected voices for their beloved characters, you realize how imperative it was for Charlie Brown, Lucy and Linus to sound right, even if we’ve never heard them speak before. The vocal talent miscasting on The Archie Show and its successors exemplifies what happens when this crucial element is lacking.

The other misstep with the Filmation Archie shows is one that is not uncommon to adaptations of comic books in this era – the errant presumption that the studio knows what makes the characters work better than their original creators. Rather than adapt the kinds of stories that Archie fans had enjoyed for decades – getting dates for the dance, high school sports competitions, Archie trying to keep his jalopy running – the show’s writers opted for more outlandish concepts, like Reggie being chased by Bigfoot on a deserted island. When that didn’t work, Archie’s Funhouse turned the gang into a Saturday morning version of Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In, with quick fadeout gags and corny jokes.

But let’s give credit where it’s due – the same creative team that botched everything else was much more successful with the shows’ musical component. After bubblegum svengali Don Kirshner helped launch the Monkees, he recruited singer Ron Dante and ace songwriters like Jeff Barry (“Da Doo Ron Ron”) to turn The Archies into a marketable singing group. Debut single “Bang Shang a Lang” stalled just outside the top 20, but “Sugar Sugar” sold 3 million copies, topped the Billboard chart for 4 weeks, and was the #1 single of 1969. 




While the cartoons sputtered, it’s ironic that the only effort that got it right was a live action made-for-TV movie that aired only once, and allowed the characters to do the one thing they could never do in the comics – grow up.

From 1990, Archie – To Riverdale and Back Again was set at the gang’s 15-year high school reunion. In this version, thrice-divorced Veronica returns from Paris, Jughead has become a psychiatrist, Betty a schoolteacher, Reggie a health club owner. Archie, rather like Jimmy Stewart in It’s a Wonderful Life, never left his hometown, choosing to put his own dreams on hold to help others.

While 1990 falls just outside the Comfort TV era, thankfully the world had not yet become so cynical and dismissive of the innocent charms of material like this. The movie never condescends or ridicules, content rather to embellish without changing the personalities of these familiar characters; Jughead is still a little off-center, Reggie is still a cad and Betty is still the sweetest girl in town. When “The Archies” take the stage at their reunion to perform “Jingle Jangle,” anyone who grew up with these characters will feel a wonderful nostalgic rush.



Casting was spot on, and you’ll see a few familiar faces – Lauren Holly as Betty, former Saturday Night Live cast member Gary Kroeger as Reggie, and Charlie’s Angels’ sidekick David Doyle as Mr. Weatherbee. Christopher Rich, who played Archie, now costars on Melissa and Joey…I never watched the show, so I wonder if it ever acknowledged a “reunion” between Archie and Sabrina. 

To Riverdale and Back isn’t perfect – Jughead’s rap duet of “Sugar, Sugar” with his son seems desperate, but overall the film has it’s heart in the right place, and some nice things to say about the value of friendship and remembering where you’re from. Still no DVD, but the entire movie can be watched on YouTube. 






Sunday, June 1, 2014

Bonanza: A Classic for Every Season (Summer of MeTV)

 
Note: This review is part of the Summer of MeTV Classic TV Blogathon hosted by the Classic TV Blog Association. Click here to check out this blogathon's complete schedule.


After two years, it's long past time that Comfort TV saddled up for a visit to the old west. 

I know that for some classic TV fans, westerns are the only comfort viewing that resonates. The genre thrived in the 1950s, survived the turbulent ‘60s and all but faded out by the disco era. But as with comedies and legal procedurals and medical dramas, its best shows – like Bonanza – are as enjoyable now as in those thrilling days of yesteryear.

America first met the Cartwrights of the Ponderosa on September 12, 1959. Back then there were 27 other westerns airing on the three major networks, which may explain why their adventures were initially lost in the shuffle. But ratings soared after a time slot switch to avoid competition from Perry Mason.  Bonanza became television’s second longest-running western (after Gunsmoke), lasting 14 seasons and 430 episodes. From 1964 to 1967, it was television’s top-rated program.

What made this particular western so popular? It starts with appealing characters, portrayed by an outstanding ensemble cast. 



Eric Cartwright, better known as Hoss (Dan Blocker) was the series’ heart and soul, and despite his imposing presence he was particularly beloved by younger viewers. Ben (Lorne Greene) was a rock of stability, faith and optimism, despite being three-times widowed. Adam (Pernell Roberts) was the intelligent but brooding eldest son. Handsome Joe (Michael Landon) was the youngest, the most hotheaded, and the Cartwright most often left heartbroken by a girlfriend’s death or betrayal.

But Little Joe wasn't alone at being unlucky in love. The inability of any Cartwright to hold on to a girl for more than one episode became a running joke among fans. The series even had its own variation on Star Trek’s doomed red-shirted crewmen; if a woman appears on Bonanza in a blue dress, she will almost certainly disappear or die before the closing credits. 

But it wasn’t all romance and loss on the Ponderosa, nor was it always the same old saloons and shootouts. Bonanza mixed comedies and tragedies, action-packed outings with social commentary. Viewers never knew what type of story they’d find from week to week, which helped the series avoid the formulaic stories of some TV westerns and contributed to its remarkable longevity.

As evidence of Bonanza’s consistency and versatility, I’ve selected one classic episode from each of its 14 seasons – watch for them on MeTV. 



Season 1: “The Henry Comstock Story”
Written by series creator David Dortort, this flashback episode features a memorable performance from Jack Carson as prospector Henry Comstock, one of the founders of Virginia City.



Season 2: “The Gift”
Martin Landau and Jim Davis guest star in this adventure in which Joe is attacked by Comancheros while returning from Arizona with a special present for his father.

Season 3: “The Crucible”
Pernell Roberts is featured in what is arguably the series’ best episode. Robbed and left for dead in the desert, Adam is apparently rescued by prospector Peter Kane, played by Lee Marvin. Adam’s relief turns to terror when Kane is revealed as a madman, who seeks to prove through torture that a morally upright man can be driven to murder. Their twisted battle of wills is riveting. 



Season 4: “Any Friend of Walter’s”
Hoss, en route to see his girlfriend Bessie Sue, is forced to take shelter in a rundown shack that is home to Obie, a mangy prospector (yes, the Cartwrights met quite a few prospectors in their day) and his dog, Walter. Obie insists that the mutt is one of the smartest dogs in the West, but when bandits attack Walter proves he ain’t no Lassie.

Season 5: “Calamity Over the Comstock”
The Cartwrights meet western legends Doc Holliday and Calamity Jane (played with va-voomish appeal by Stefanie Powers).

Season 6: “Old Sheba”
There’s an elephant on the Ponderosa, and no one is quite sure how to get rid of him. This is one of the better comic outings to feature Lorne Greene.

Season 7: “The Other Son”
The Wages of Fear, Bonanza-style. Ben hires an explosives expert to help transport nitroglycerin across a mountain range to the site of a mine disaster. This is one of the series’ most suspenseful episodes. 

Season 8: “A Christmas Story”
I’m always a sucker for holiday episodes – this one has Hoss playing Santa Claus and Wayne Newton singing “Silent Night.”

Season 9: “Showdown at Tahoe”
Ben and Candy (David Canary) square off against an outlaw gang on a paddle-wheel steamboat.

Season 10: “The Wish”
Michael Landon wrote and directed this episode, in which Hoss helps an African-American family (headed by guest star Ossie Davis) fix their farm and deal with racist threats from a neighboring town. 



Season 11: “Caution: Easter Bunny Crossing”
This choice will likely tick off a few fans, but I can’t help it. While it’s been years since I’ve caught this episode, I have never forgotten the sight of Hoss, dressed as a giant bunny, throwing Easter eggs at a gang of stagecoach robbers.

Season 12: “Kingdom of Fear”
The Cartwrights are abducted and forced to work on a chain gang by a sadistic judge. Shot in the week following Robert Kennedy’s assassination, this Michael Landon-penned episode was originally deemed too brutal for broadcast and didn’t air until 3 years later.

Season 13: “The Lonely Man”
The series’ best Hop Sing episode finds the Cartwrights’ loyal cook in love. Sadly, his romance doesn’t fare any better than those of his employers.

Season 14: “Forever”
A heartbreaking story written and directed by Michael Landon that serves as an unofficial tribute to Dan Blocker, who died prior to the season’s start. When Ben and Joe grieve for the latest in a long line of Joe’s ill-fated love interests, their tears were really in memory of their departed costar and friend.