Five Reasons "Angie" Didn't Last Longer

I watched an episode of Angie the other day on DVD, and it struck me again how this 1970s situation comedy had most of the elements that would appeal to an audience long enough to keep it on the air for at least 3-4 seasons, if not more. Instead, it was canceled after two years and just 36 episodes.

What happened? I suspect network hubris contributed to its early departure. After ranking fifth in its debut season, ABC moved the series three times into three different time slots and changed the cast, the setting and the narrative. Since the network dominated the Nielsen ratings in the late 1970s they may have figured they could do no wrong, and their audience would follow them anywhere. That didn’t work.

I’m not saying those poor decisions deprived us of more time with one of the best shows of the decade – that level of quality was beyond its reach. But not every series has to be venerated to be valued. Thirty minutes with likable characters and a welcome setting are all many of us need as accompaniment to unwind after a day’s work.

The series made a fine first impression with a mini arc that introduced us to Angie Falco (Donna Pescow), a diner waitress from the poor side of town, and Dr. Brad Benson (Robert Hays), who comes from a wealthy family but eats at the diner every day, and not because of the food.

They come to each other from different worlds, as sung in the show’s wonderful theme by Maureen McGovern. He proposes, she accepts, but both of their families have misgivings about the match. These stories unfold over the first five episodes, all of which are among the best of the run. The show’s creators – classic TV vets Garry Marshall and Dale McRaven – had a clear vision of what Angie should be about, and they were onto something.

With Doris Roberts as Angie’s outspoken mom and Sharon Spelman as Brad’s stuck-up sister Joyce also making strong contributions, Angie was a series that seemed destined for long-term success. 

Why didn’t it last? I offer these five reasons.


The Move

In episode five, “The Adjustment,” newlywed Angie moves into Brad’s home, which she is surprised to discover is more like a palatial estate. Her reaction, and those of her family and friends when they visit, get to the heart of what this series was about – moving from one world to another. Brad never looked down on the humble Falco home during his visits, but Angie hit the jackpot and couldn’t handle it. She seemed embarrassed in luxurious surroundings.

After a short first season of just 12 episodes, the series returned for its first (and last) full year, and that’s where it made what was to me its biggest mistake. In episode three, “Moving Day,” Angie insists that they move into a humbler dwelling. The house she chooses is unappealing from a set design perspective, and Brad clearly hates it but goes along to appease his wife. The show removed one of the defining characteristics of its premise, cutting off access to rich comedic material long before its freshness date.


What to Do with Tammy Lauren?

Teenage Tammy Lauren was billed third in the opening credits of the series’ first season, right behind Pescow and Hays. She played Joyce’s daughter Hillary, but if you blinked you might miss her entire contribution to that season.

Lauren was completely absent in some episodes, made one-scene appearances in others, and probably spoke no more than 15 lines for her entire duration on the show. In fact, her most memorable contribution happened in the opening credits, when she laughs as Angie wheels her around on a serving cart in the diner, until Joyce puts a stop to that. Now we’re set up to think that Hillary is the only member of Brad’s family who thinks Angie is fun, but in her early scenes she’s just as snotty as Joyce, and that transition is never made. Another missed opportunity – plus she was cute enough to get some teenage boys to watch.

Phipps

Season two introduces Emory Bass as Phipps, a butler Brad hires to help Angie, even though she’s already uncomfortable with the trappings of wealth. Having a butler made sense when they lived in a mansion but seemed silly after they moved to a middle-class residence. Phipps was no scene-stealer like Benson on Soap, and like Hillary was another character left to drift through scenes for which he seemingly had no purpose.


The Marys

The same episode that introduced Phipps (“Angie’s Old Friends”) also introduced the Marys – three childhood friends of Angie: Mary Grace the nun (Susan Duvall), pregnant Mary Katherine (Nancy Lane) and ditzy Mary Mary (Valri Bromfield).

None of them were believable as real people, and not one of the eight episodes in which they appeared was made more memorable by their presence. They were the original Larry, Daryl and Daryl, except those characters worked on Newhart because that show was in the absurdist tradition of Green Acres. Angie already had Debralee Scott as Angie’s sister Marie, who pushed the boundaries of believability by sometimes being too incompetent to function as an adult. Why add three more abstractions?


The Beauty Salon

I can only speculate that having Angie leave the diner to buy a beauty salon was a desperation move to inject new life into a show with dwindling ratings. The network hoped a fresh setting and new supporting characters like Tim Thomerson as a skirt-chasing stylist would catch on with viewers. Instead, they likely hastened its departure.

“I don't try to understand it anymore,” said Donna Pescow after learning of the show’s cancelation. “You have to take it as a big chess game and the only person who sees the total logic is the person making the moves.” It’s sad in this case that all the moves were as appealing as Elaine Benes’s moves on the dancefloor – but at least we have a DVD release to remind us of the show’s best moments – and what might have been.