• Frasier (1993) s04e12 – Death and the Dog

    Death and the Dog does a couple things I think are new to “Frasier” and immediately seem like series standards. The first is using the radio show as an episode-long bookend device. The episode opens with Kelsey Grammer and Peri Gilpin bored on a sunny Seattle day and getting a single caller—Patty Duke (not playing Patty Duke, obviously)—and Grammer regales her, the listening audience, and the viewer with a moral tale to help her with her depression problem. I’m pretty sure the episode’s never used a call for bookending before. It’s an obvious device—and it even plays fairly obviously, with occasional interruptions from Gilpin as Grammer divulges too much about her personal life—but all plays well thanks to an excellent Suzanne Martin credited script.

    The other new but familiar part of the episode is the entire regular cast—sans Dan Butler, who’s not in this episode and hasn’t been around for a while and must only be included in the regular cast titles when he appears–sitting around the apartment for a lengthy group conversation. James Burrows’s direction is really good on it, but it’s the actors and Martin’s script. See, Eddie the dog has been depressed and the pet psychiatrist Mahoney calls thinks he’s mirroring depression. So everyone talks about what’s got them depressed. It’s a phenomenal talking heads scene, bouncing between the five participants, exquisitely timed and acted.

    Zeljko Ivanek guest stars as the pet shrink, who Grammer and Hyde Pierce mercilessly tease (turns out justifiably but it’s no less mean-spirited). Ivanek’s awesome. He’s got this very droll take on the character, which contrasts with Grammer and Hyde Pierce doing their gleeful snob thing. It’s a great scene.

    We also get to see Hyde Pierce’s dog again—who hasn’t appeared since last season—as he brings her over to cheer up Eddie while Grammer cautions Mahoney not to point out the obvious similarities between the dog and Maris, Hyde Pierce’s never seen, infamous (and estranged) wife. It’s a quick, but thoughtful and effective set piece. Martin’s script has a number of such set pieces, including the cast discussing how they’d imagine Eddie the dog as a person, in addition to some great recurring bits. Jane Leeves gets the best recurring dialogue, while Gilpin gets this amazing subplot about dating gynecologist Tom Lagleder (against her better judgment).

    It’s an excellent episode. The way it showcases the cast’s ability to play off one another (thanks to Martin and Burrows as well obviously) is spectacular. Not to mention how it’s able to get away with the pedestrian framing device thanks to everything else excelling so much.

    Great end credits joke too.


  • Frasier (1993) s04e11 – Three Days of the Condo

    I just realized we never get to see the undoubtedly hideous antique Kelsey Grammer is supposed to get from Marsha Mason. Mason’s John Mahoney’s new girlfriend (who the show’s established sons Grammer and David Hyde Pierce do not like because she’s too… earthy) . Grammer and Hyde Pierce get back from antiquing and Mason promises to bring over a new item for his collection; we don’t get to see it, which is a bummer. Though also immaterial because the episode’s so hilarious it doesn’t end up mattering.

    It’s another Michael B. Kaplan credited script and it’s an excellent one. From the opening scene, the plots splinter with Grammer getting into a hallway decorating dispute with the condo board and Hyde Pierce and Mahoney getting into something else for a bit. Mahoney needs a place to have date night with Mason where they won’t be interrupted and so Hyde Pierce lends him his bachelor pad during opera night. Unfortunately, it’s a bad performance and Hyde Pierce heads home early to discover (offscreen) Mahoney and Mason. They’d forgotten to hang a tie from the door handle.

    Meanwhile, Grammer’s trying to get evil condo board president Dana Ivey (who’s exceptional at dagger stares) to let him have his antique Japanese door knocker, leading to an impassioned speech from Grammer at the meeting. Grammer’s performance this episode’s outstanding; not just that first speech, but then when he’s running to unseat Ivey and doesn’t have the facts on his side, something the viewer knows, something the other condo residents know, and Grammer doesn’t.

    Conflict with the homeowners’ association—condo owners’ association—had to have been a trope by the time they got to this episode, but Kaplan’s able to get some fine gristle out of it. Both Mahoney and Jane Leeves have pre-existing conflicts with Ivey (it occurs to me Mason would’ve been the perfect one to take on Ivey but Mason’s offscreen after the first scene), which complications things as the episode unfolds. Peri Gilpin pops in—literally coming over to do work on a Saturday just so she can get a scene and a joke (but good ones)—to offer Grammer her advice.

    Hyde Pierce never gets looped back into the A plot, with he and Mahoney resolving their subplot early, though maybe Mahoney’s Mason-fueled enthusiasm for life fuels the final twist. Untied plot knots don’t end up mattering as Kaplan’s writing is so strong and Grammer’s delivery is so good; plus director David Lee’s pacing of the final scene, when Grammer gets an unexpected, unwelcome comeuppance.

    Very fun cameo from Austin Pendleton, especially if you know Austin Pendleton.

    It’s a really funny episode.


  • Michael Hayes (1997) s01e06 – Heroes

    Paul Haggis has a co-writer credit on the script, which seems to mean—among other things—Hillary Danner is going to get some things to do and Ruben Santiago-Hudson’s going to be good because the writing for him is better. Santiago-Hudson has less to do than last episode, when the writing wasn’t Haggis and was bad, but he’s much better while doing the less. Though the scene where he teases David Caruso about going on a date is weird. Danner’s part is to go off, do work, find results, bring them to Caruso, which ends up being better than Rebecca Rigg, who just sits around with Caruso and spit-balls because she’s the only person smarter than him.

    The episode’s a riff on Ransom (the remake not original) with dirtbag FBI agent (dirtbag even for FBI agent, also note how much they code him as working class) Larry Joshua maybe or maybe not framing mail carrier Brad William Henke for a kidnapping of a child. Henke says he rescued the kid on his route, Joshua says he grabbed him and let him go. Henke and his lawyer—a fantastic Amy Aquino—are suing for ten million; Caruso and company are stuck defending Joshua.

    The episode doesn’t go full kidnapped child exploitative with the original case, instead contriving a reason to put Caruso’s nephew—Jimmy Galeota, who’s his regular medium grade annoying, nothing more, nothing less—in danger of a child predator. It also tries to show Caruso as the most progressive one in the office about Joshua being a bad cop, though if he’s guilty and Henke’s completely innocent and a real hero, it’s wrong Henke wants damages. Vindication fine; damages no. It’s also unclear what’s supposed to happen to Joshua other than Caruso not having to deal with him. The show’s maybe two steps away from being at least somewhat self-aware. There are a lot of “it was still the nineties” caveats, though it would’ve certainly been better on dirtbag FBI agents than TV would be for years to come. It’s pre-9/11, after all.

    Galeota’s got a subplot about loan sharks showing up looking for dad David Cubitt, who shows up for a couple scenes for the first time in a while. Mary B. Ward’s got a couple too. Nothing much of consequence happens in either of them, except Caruso letting Cubitt commit three or four crimes in his effort to be a better bad. There’s a magical bad dad toxic masculinity scene where Cubitt implies Galeota’s pride in him is why he’s got to be a criminal and put he and Ward in danger from aforementioned loan sharks.

    The script’s a little more sensational and less procedural than it ought to be—its issues are fundamental—but it’s a decent episode. Caruso’s quite good most of the time, especially in his reactions (somewhere the script’s also strong). Even if some of his reactions are reactionary. And Joshua’s a very effective antagonist guest star, which is more important than him being good in an impossible—for numerous reasons—part.


  • Michael Hayes (1997) s01e05 – Act of Contrition

    There are some really big obvious things to talk about with this episode of “Michael Hayes,” like the Catholic Church and the romanticization of terrorism, specifically the IRA, and how popular American entertainment portrayed both right up until mid-September 2001 for the terrorism and, I don’t know, the late 2010s for the Catholic Church. They still give the Church a pass but they at least pretend to acknowledge it being an international child rape cabal.

    What’s interesting about Act of Contrition is the fine line it has to walk. David Caruso might be openly Irish Catholic, but he’s a U.S. Attorney first so when it turns out they need to break the confessional, he’s going to throw a bunch of valid points at priest Peter Onorati but it’s very clear Caruso’s bad for wanting the Church to help stop an Irish terrorist. The only people who agree with him are Protestants after all; the show handles the denominations mostly through implication, though Rebecca Rigg’s single salient contribution is to encourage Caruso to break the priest not the Church. There’s a scene where Church lawyer Robin Gammell confronts Caruso and for a second I thought it might actually be interesting but then it’s just Gammell shaming on him.

    Caruso’s character arc—realizing, oh wait, maybe this Catholic Church thing is a problem, wait, maybe sincerely held religious beliefs aren’t a real thing, wait, it’s time to take my nephew to church—is… lackluster. Though maybe not in the nineties. “Michael Hayes” was CBS after all. But, yes, the juxtapose with all the Church stuff is nephew Jimmy Galeota prepping for his first communion—Caruso’s apparently so super Catholic he sequesters Galeota for his lessons (or Mary B. Ward wanted to audition for a better part in something else)—and some montages of pensive Caruso with Roman Catholic paraphernalia. Caruso’s good, but it’s all a trope.

    There also seems to be some tension in the direction of the show. Demoted show creator John Romano shares the writing credit with Michael Harbert and seems to be trying to “right the wrongs” of Paul Haggis’s show running. Romano apparently really wants Caruso to have a romance with an investigator, introducing pointless but fetching FBI agent Kelly Rowan, who hangs on his every word while Caruso just tries to get out of the scene like it’s his last day on “NYPD Blue.” Caruso doesn’t even bother with the professionalism he exhibited in the pilot with now dead girlfriend Dina Meyer. Though the script’s so packed with one-liners and throwaway scenes, it’s no wonder he’s rushed.

    Romano and Harbert also can’t get a good part going for Ruben Santiago-Hudson here either (because Rowan’s got his job) and he can’t hack it; it’s not Santiago-Hudson’s worst performance, but it’s not his best either and he’s now on a sharp downward trend.

    Galeota’s cloying, that kind of child actor where they say cut and print when the kid can get through the dialogue, not act.

    There’s also some male projection with Susan Traylor’s nun, who was always hot for Caruso’s bod when they were kids and is willing to talk horny as a nun so he knows it. It’s weird. And Caruso’s got no chemistry with her either, so it’s pointless too.

    I’d really like to not dread Romano’s name in the writer credits, but I’m not sure he’ll ever give me reason to not.

    Though it was cool to see Onorati and Caruso together, even if Onorati’s part is thin and Caruso’s is incomplete; both are quite good considering the constraints.


  • Frasier (1993) s04e10 – Liar! Liar!

    It’s a Seabees episode, but only sort of and only at the beginning (the Seabees are the annual radio awards on “Frasier” and there’s always an episode). Always with conditions, however, as the episode opens in the apartment at Kelsey Grammer’s Seabees after party, where the regular cast is doing their best to get the extras out so the story can start. The only winner at the awards was Dan Butler, who annoys everyone with his bragging, and there’s a great sequence with Peri Gilpin getting him out of the apartment under false pretenses. The episode’s going to be about lying, specifically the consequences of it. Though there’s going to be a lot of privilege in play and how sometimes that privilege can get you out of consequences.

    Seriously, white men avoiding responsibility for their actions in an amusing way is basically the most standard sitcom trope.

    Turns out when they were kids, Grammer and David Hyde Pierce pulled the fire alarm at their prep school and dad John Mahoney defended them as not being liars. They were, in fact, liars. And utterly indifferent to their lie getting another kid expelled. The other kid bullied them—even being established as the primary culprit in Hyde Pierce’s infamous, previously established flag-pole hanging—so Hyde Pierce feels no guilt while Grammer just has to know how the kid’s life went.

    Turns out it did not pass go and went straight to jail , which is where Grammer goes to meet the grown-up kid, now an intimidating adult played by Saul Stein. Thanks to Grammer’s prodding, Stein’s able to identify the most salient point in his juvenile delinquency as it relates to long term effects—back when he was kicked out of a prep school where he could’ve gotten out of his working class situation and excelled as a productive white collar member of society. Grammer feels bad he’s given Stein so much self-awareness, so he sets out to right Stein’s rocky relationship with his wife, Carlene Watkins.

    Little does Grammer know Watkins is a sex addict who needs the danger and nothing’s more dangerous than Stein potentially killing her partners during coitus.

    As they do, complications ensue, and manage to get Grammer to the finish without actually having to learn any real lessons or to make writers Chuck Ranberg and Anne Flett-Giordano—who write a very funny script (one caveat in a moment)—figure out if there’s a moral. Given Mahoney’s the moral authority in the episode, some kind of resolution with him would help but he’s out. After his initial outrage, he instead joins the Hyde Pierce and Jane Leeves subplot, which has Hyde Pierce hurting his back (adjusting his Mercedes’s seat) and Leeves applying an icy then very hot liniment to make him feel better. Mahoney hates the stuff, Hyde Pierce has to appear tough. Lots and lots of great physical comedy from Hyde Pierce and decent material for Leeves and Mahoney, but it definitely doesn’t do anything for Mahoney’s pseudo-arc.

    The aforementioned iffy bit is a “too early to actually be hurtfully transphobic” joke but it’s iffy because it’s also slightly misogynist in addition to be mired in toxic masculinity. It’s a way easier joke than Ranberg and Flett-Giordano’s other easy jokes in the episode and they seem to realize it’s a dead-end because it too doesn’t get the natural resolution. Though the natural resolution would’ve definitely been hurtfully transphobic?

    It’s a solid episode, with a lot of potential—Watkins and Stein are excellent guest stars (look, two in the same episode again)—but the end is a definite cop out.

    Also, the question of why does Frasier Crane have a lighter is possibly more profound than why does God need a starship.