The Five Firm Rules of Classic TV Reunions

I’m looking forward to the return of The Gilmore Girls later this year. It’s one of my favorite post-Comfort TV era shows, and I am very happy for this chance to get reacquainted with its wonderfully smart and appealing characters.

It also got me thinking about how many classic television shows attempted a reunion movie or special with less than satisfying results. If the shows were successful the first time, why do these projects with so many built-in feel-good moments so often miss the mark?

As someone who has sat through more of these attempts than most, I think the problem is they violate one of five rules for a successful reunion. Rules I just made up. File this blog under the heading of good advice, delivered too late to make a difference.

1. Don’t Wait Too Long

The Patty Duke Show ran from 1963-1966. The Patty Duke Show: Still Rockin’ in Brooklyn Heights aired in 1999. Audiences who met Patty Lane as a feisty teenager now were seeing her again for the first time when she is old enough to join AARP. While it was heartening to see the entire cast back after 33 years, watching Eddie Applegate (as Patty’s high school boyfriend Richard) still pining for Patty at age 64 comes off more sad than nostalgic. 

This was also an issue with The Dick Van Dyke Show Revisited (2004). Here the gap was 38 years, clearly too great a span for Dick Van Dyke and Mary Tyler Moore to fall back into the urbane chemistry they shared as Rob and Laura Petrie, even with Carl Reiner providing the words as he did when he created the show.

2. Don’t Do It Too Soon, Either

The Waltons finished an impressive nine-year run in 1981. A Wedding on Walton’s Mountain aired eight months later, followed by two more 1982 revivals, Mother’s Day on Walton’s Mountain and A Day of Thanks on Walton’s Mountain. Fans didn’t even have time to miss the family before they were back together. 

3. Don’t Do It With Half Your Cast

Back in 1985 I’m sure many Comfort TV fans were excited about getting reacquainted with Jeannie and Major Nelson in I Dream of Jeannie: 15 Years Later…until they learned that this time Major Nelson would be played by Wayne Rogers. 

With a large enough cast you can still pull one of these off if just one person is missing: Eight is Enough: A Family Reunion worked with Mary Frann as Abby because the rest of the Bradfords were there. And Jennifer Runyon ably filled in for Susan Olsen in A Very Brady Christmas.   

But if the point of a reunion is to bring back the same actors in the same roles, there is certainly a tipping point on recasts and nonappearances that should not be crossed. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop The Return of the Beverly Hillbillies (1981), despite the absences of Irene Ryan, Max Baer Jr. and Raymond Bailey, or Back to The Streets of San Francisco (1992) when the only cast member back was Karl Malden.

4. Have a Good Reason for Reuniting

No classic TV show had a more ideal revival motive than Gilligan’s Island.

Rescue from Gilligan’s Island (1978) turned out to be dreadful, but that didn’t make it any less necessary given the unfinished business addressed. 

Too often the thinking behind these projects is just to get the cast back together, which could be accomplished at an autograph show for a lot less money. A reunion movie also requires an interesting script – preferably one that remembers what made the original series successful.

Examples? Too many to mention: The Father Knows Best Reunion (1977) comes to mind, in which half the film is seemingly spent picking up or dropping off people at the airport; Halloween With the New Addams Family (1977) drags even at 75 minutes, though it was a treat to see the original cast in color. And Return to Green Acres (1990) lobotomized one of the 1960s’ most brilliantly subversive series. 

5. Don’t Make Every Joke About Being Older

This trope is especially prevalent with westerns and action shows. You can set your watch by the scene where the hero needs extra effort to subdue hired muscle that he wouldn’t break a sweat over in his prime, and then you’ll get some variation on Danny Glover’s famous Lethal Weapon line, “I’m getting too old for this…”

That’s just one of the issues with The Wild, Wild West Revisited (1979), which too often crossed into camp. It also applies to The Return of the Man From UNCLE: The 15 Years Later Affair (1983), which was apparently written by someone who was paid by the word. 

This doesn’t mean these jokes don’t work when they’re done right: I Spy Returns (1994) was loaded with them but the partnership between Kelly and Scotty has aged with remarkable grace. And when the passage of time is acknowledged in a more poignant way, as in the eternal romance of Matt Dillon and Miss Kitty in Gunsmoke: Return to Dodge (1987), it can break your heart. 

Which reunions worked? Sounds like a great topic for a future blog. Let me hear your suggestions.

Television’s Most Beautiful Music

The most beautiful music ever written for television was composed to underscore a commercial for a Canadian tea manufacturer.

But before we finish that story…

One of the more interesting aspects of growing older is how it changes your perspective on any number of things. Some people change political parties. Some move closer to or further away from religion. Some discover the joys of golf after racquetball becomes too strenuous.

My change of heart concerns what used to be called “muzak,” particularly by me in my teenage years.

I used to hate it. Now the lush instrumentals of Ray Conniff, Percy Faith and Paul Mauriat have become a peaceful refuge from a world that keeps growing louder (Dear everyone: I have no interest in your cell phone conversations; why are you forcing me to listen to them?).

Sirius XM channel 69 (“Escape”) – no better way to chill out after a stressful day. 

Television has inspired many serene compositions that would fit comfortably into the easy listening genre. Some of my favorites include:

Quentin’s Theme (Shadows of the Night)

Bob Cobert’s melancholy waltz, introduced on Dark Shadows, was recorded by more than 20 artists, including Andy Williams, and earned a Grammy nomination in 1969. 

You’re My Greatest Love (Theme from “The Honeymooners)

Written by series star Jackie Gleason, this romantic orchestral piece admittedly seemed at odds with the thunderous arguments in so many episodes. 

Angela (Theme from “Taxi”)

I’ve been a fan of smooth jazz artist Bob James for years. This is his best-known composition. As with The Honeymooners it’s a gentle theme for a volatile show, but somehow it works. 

Laura’s Palmer’s Theme (Twin Peaks)

Angelo Badalamenti’s music is too ominous for relaxation, but one cannot deny its sway. The sadness of the subject is expressed in somber, heartbreaking tones, with piano interludes that bring some hope of light amidst the darkness. When the piece ends, however, you know which side won. 

But for me, the most beautiful song ever written for television (See? I didn’t forget!) is “The Homecoming,” written by Hagood Hardy and introduced in a 1970s commercial for Salada Tea.

 

It can be difficult to put into words why a piece of music resonates – or fails to resonate. I guess that’s why in nearly 40 years of rating records on American Bandstand, almost every answer to Dick Clark’s question about a new single was, “I like the beat, and it’s easy to dance to.”

In this case neither of those attributes apply. “The Homecoming” has no beat and I doubt anyone has ever danced to it. It’s more Mantovani that Mozart but there is a sublime classical quality to the piece that is part of the reason it appeals to me. The opening strains in particular remind me of a Debussy nocturne. I love the gentle, wistful melody. I love the glissando of strings at the 1:46 mark. I love that it sounds like a walk through a forest.

I’m still not sure what it has to do with tea. The original commercial in which it was introduced is not on YouTube, but I hope to see it one day and fill in the rest of that story.

The music also has no connection to The Homecoming, a 1971 made-for-TV movie of the same name that introduced the Walton family to television. It’s still worth watching if you can get past Patricia Neal as a much bigger sourpuss than Michael Learned ever was as Olivia Walton.

Hagood Hardy’s musical legacy includes one other gift in his contribution to the revered 1985 television adaptation of Anne of Green Gables. 

Composing music as spectacular as the series’ Prince Edward Island setting was a formidable challenge. I think he succeeded. 

Sadly, Hardy died in 1997 at the far-too-young age of 59. His 2012 CD “All My Best” is recommended for anyone who shares my appreciation for his work.

What do you think is the most beautiful music written for television?

10 Wonderful William Schallert Moments: a Comfort TV Tribute

The recent passing of William Schallert is a poignant reminder that our living links to the original classic TV era have dwindled down to a precious few. 

The Internet Movie Database lists 375 acting credits for Mr. Schallert, the preponderance of which were for television. His first TV appearance was in the 1951 anthology series Family Theater; his final bow came 63 years later, as an elevator operator on Two Broke Girls.

In between he appeared on more Comfort TV shows than any actor. That is a testimony to talent, certainly, but also to versatility and professionalism, and a work ethic once viewed as conventional that now seems almost heroic. For those of us who treasure this time in the medium’s history, he was always a welcome presence in any role.

Here are ten memorable moments from a stellar career.  

“Do You Trust Your Daughter?”

The Patty Duke Show

William Schallert’s most prominent Comfort TV role was Martin Lane, editor of the New York Chronicle and father to precocious Patty Lane.

The Patty Duke Show aired for three seasons, and next to Duke’s virtuosity in a dual role, one of its greatest joys is the loving relationship between Patty and her “Poppo.” “Do You Trust Your Daughter?” opens a rift between them that reminds us how great comedy shows could also produce potent dramatic moments. When Martin realizes he had mistakenly accused Patty of lying, he expresses his mea culpa through an oddly beautiful 19^th century song called “Keemo-Kimo.” Schallert’s tender performance and Duke’s emotional reaction makes for one of those scenes that justify the love we share for television classics. 

“Goodbye, Mr. Pomfritt, Hello, Mr. Chips”

The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis

Schallert appeared in 24 Dobie Gillis episodes as teacher Leander Pomfritt, who tenders his resignation in this season-two show, admitting he cannot support his family on a teacher’s salary (some things never change). Dobie and Maynard host a testimonial dinner in his honor, and invite as many of his former students as they can find. Of course Maynard fails to mail the invitations, but the event still rekindles Pomfritt’s calling to the classroom.

“A Word a Day”

The Dick Van Dyke Show

William Schallert received the second biggest front door laugh in the history of this series (the first belongs to Greg Morris in “That’s My Boy??”).  In “A Word a Day,” a distressed Rob and Laura are concerned over their son Ritchie’s sudden use of profanity, and wonder where he is picking up such language. Suspicion falls on a new boy in the neighborhood. Rob invites the boy’s parents over to see what kind of people would allow their kid to corrupt a nice neighborhood. When he opens the front door there’s William Schallert – played Reverend Kirk.

 “A Man Called Smart, Part Two”

Get Smart

This classic three-part story introduced Schallert as 91 year-old Admiral Hargrade, the original leader of CONTROL. As a clumsy, addled senior in the style of Arte Johnson’s Tyrone Horneigh character on Laugh-In, this was broader comedy that Schallert usually tackled. But as always he settles right into the tone of the show and creates another memorable character, whose hobbies include “chess, and burying old buddies.” 

“The Lady Plays Her Hand”

Bat Masterson

We should have at least one of Schallert’s western credits on this list, as he appeared on many of the best shows from the genre’s heyday (Wanted: Dead of Alive, Lawman, Maverick, Wagon Train, Gunsmoke). Here, he plays George Winston, an eastern gambler who breaks the bank at Bat’s casino – though Masterson suspects Winston’s “system” had some inside help.

“The Trouble with Tribbles”
Star Trek

One of the series’ most popular episodes features William Schallert as a bureaucrat ready to haul Captain Kirk before a Board of Inquiry after a grain shipment is devoured by the Tribbles invading the Enterprise. Schallert played a lot of these button-down company men, but rarely amidst such bizarre circumstances. 

“Quiet Sam”

The Andy Griffith Show

Could someone actually be growing marijuana in Sheriff Andy’s town? That’s what Deputy Barney Fife believes as he investigates Sam Becker (Schallert), a newly arrived farmer who prefers to keep to himself. Given his body of work it is probable Schallert played a pothead at some point, but the reasons for his character’s reticence here have nothing to do with trying to mellow out Mayberry.

“Samantha’s Curious Cravings”

Bewitched

There were several mentions of Samantha’s obstetrician, Dr. Anton, during her pregnancy with Tabitha, but the character was never seen. We finally meet him before Adam is born, giving William Schallert yet another classic TV credit. This is one of the better late-season episodes of the series, as Anton finds himself at odds with Sam’s other family physician, Dr. Bombay. 

“Fathers and Sons”

Room 222

Having played so many warm and caring dads, it can be disturbing at first to see Schallert as Dr. Charles Garrett, a belligerent, conservative father yelling at his impressionable son, who is drawn to the more progressive outlook of history teacher Pete Dixon. Garrett tries to get Dixon fired, but ultimately takes a more encouraging approach to the generation gap issue.  

“The Red Woodloe Story”

The Partridge Family

While attending church, the Partridges are surprised to hear a performance from Red Woodloe (Schallert), a once-promising folk singer who disappeared from the spotlight decades earlier. They urge him to attempt a comeback, but Red has issues with commitment…and stage fright. If you liked Schallert’s singing on The Patty Duke Show, you’ll enjoy a lot more of it here. 

For those interested in even more of William Schallert’s work, here are ten additional credits that are also worth a look:

“Lucy and the Little League”

The Lucy Show

“The Case of the Sulky Girl”

Perry Mason

“All Mothers Worry”

The Donna Reed Show

“The Clones”

Land of the Giants

“Keep the Faith, Baby”

The Mod Squad

“The Night of Winged Terror, Parts 1 & 2”

The Wild, Wild West

“The Travelling Man”

The Waltons

“The Mystery of Pirate’s Cove"

The Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew Mysteries

“Sniper”

Police Story

“Family Ties”

St. Elsewhere

Godspeed, Mr. Schallert. While many of us are still mourning the loss of Patty Duke, it does help to know that she was there to welcome her Poppo home. 

The Museum of Comfort TV Salutes: The Cone of Silence

Imagine a place where all of the instantly recognizable objects associated with classic television are on display. It doesn’t exist, so we’ll create it here, and pay tribute to many of our favorite Comfort TV things.

Introduced in the first episode of Get Smart, the Cone of Silence would inspire some of the biggest laughs on what many would argue is still the funniest television series ever created. 

Was this merely an inspired visual gag by series creators Mel Brooks and Buck Henry, or a subtle comment on government incompetence? Imagine how many taxpayer dollars were poured into research and development on something that never did its job. Not the first time, and certainly not the last. Fill in your favorite boondoggle here.

Its presence in the series’ pilot suggests that this was a moment that would help sell the show: Maxwell Smart, dedicated and eager but also clumsy and dense, awaits assignment from the head of the secret government espionage agency CONTROL. The Chief, Max’s boss, hints at how vital this upcoming mission will be. Not willing to take any chances, Max demands his orders be given only within the security of the Cone of Silence. The Chief, exasperated as if he already knows Uncle Sam got stuck with a clunker, calls for it anyway.

That is a perfect classic TV moment.

The scene works so well that it could have been reprised with only minor variations in future episodes and still earned a laugh. But that would have been too easy for a show with this much genius in its origins. The Cone of Silence would make ten more appearances over the show’s five seasons, and the question was never whether it would function as designed, but how it would fail once again.

In “KAOS in CONTROL,” the Cone still impairs communication between Max and The Chief, but those outside can hear every word they say. 

It appears once again in “My Nephew the Spy,” after Max insists that regulations call for all security measures to be taken in such vital circumstances. The Cone is lowered, and the Chief asks Agent 86 what he discovered about KAOS headquarters. Max responds, “Nothing.”

“Too Many Chiefs,” from season one, is my favorite Cone of Silence moment. Here's why:

“Hubert’s Unfinished Symphony” features the debut of the portable Cone of Silence, which looks even more ridiculous than its predecessor. Which is unfortunate for the Chief, who spends most of the episode stuck inside. 

When Max and 99 are on assignment in England in “That Old Gang of Mine,” the London CONTROL office provides its own variation, the Umbrella of Silence. Surprisingly it’s up to the task, but other complications ensue. 

In the season four episode “A Tale of Two Tails” we learn that the Cone was invented by Professor Cohn. “The Cone of Silence was invented by a Professor Cohn?” Max asks, as he looks up at it; “That’s funny…it doesn’t look it.” One more example of a joke that worked 40 years ago and would now generate demands for apologies and sensitivity training.

With the Cone on the fritz again, Max and the Chief opt for the CONTROL secret word file. Once you see how that works you’ll wonder if it was created by the same guy who wrote the federal tax code.

And though it’s not canon I should mention that a high-tech version of the Cone appears in the 2008 Get Smart film with Steve Carrell. Here at the Museum we’re content to own the original, but if you don’t see it on your next visit don’t panic – most likely it just needs yet another tune-up.