Frasier (1993) s01e08 – Beloved Infidel

In some ways, this episode of “Frasier” is the best one so far. If the show is supposed to be about Frasier (Kelsey Grammer) and Martin (John Mahoney) actually connecting as son and father, respectively, Leslie Eberhard’s script does it. It does it so much you’re left wondering what the repercussions if or when Niles (David Hyde Pierce) finds out what he missed.

The episode starts with some easy jokes, which are important because there aren’t any real laughs after the second commercial break. That section is reserved for serious talk time for Grammer and Mahoney, which lets the actors show off their more dramatic muscles. But the opening—with JoBeth Williams as a French caller who Grammer can’t understand, then Hyde Pierce once again forgetting Peri Gilpin, in this case why this woman he obviously knows but can’t remember is hanging out in Frasier’s sound booth. Gilpin’s got some great lines in the scene, before and after Hyde Pierce arrives.

Grammer and Hyde Pierce head out to dinner—somewhere cheap because it’s Hyde Pierce’s turn to pay—and, after some laughs involving Hyde Pierce’s fretting over his car getting towed—they notice Mahoney at another table, having dinner with Pat Crowley. They recognize Crowley as an old family friend who became estranged and assume Mahoney’s on a date, which gets weird when Crowley bursts into tears and runs out. The “Crane first date” observation from Grammer is choice.

Well, Hyde Pierce goes through his old journals and finds a mystery involving why the families stopped being friends twenty plus years before and Grammer and Hyde Pierce determine Mahoney must’ve had an affair with Crowley. They confront him about it, which sends the episode down its serious path—the biggest subplot involves Eddie the dog rolling around on the sofa, which is absolutely adorable and just the stress reliever the episode needs.

Things get even more serious after an impertinent Grammer confronts Crowley, which in turn leads to a further confrontation with Mahoney.

The episode’s got some great light laughs at the beginning—not to mention a too cute for words Jack Russell Terrier—while still sticking to the dramatic guns for the finish.

So while not the funniest episode so far, or the most ambitiously crafted one, it might be the best one so far.

Frasier (1993) s01e05 – Here’s Looking at You

It’s a very good episode overall—script courtesy Brad Hall, with able direction from Andy Ackerman—and an even better one for Jane Leeves. She’s gotten to do a lot of comedy to this point, but when it comes time for the heart part of the episode, it’s all her.

This episode also feels like the show’s moved past the establishing rhythms. You could watch it in any order in syndication and not worry about where it fits in air order. It’s basically subplot free, with David Hyde Pierce’s storyline about having to entertain his wife’s aunt, Kathleen Noone, while Maris has (predictably) come down with an ailment getting raveled into the main plot. The opening call, main plot, Peri Gilpin’s single significant anecdote, main plot.

Frasier (Kelsey Grammer) has gotten worried dad John Mahoney is too lazy. He gets concerned because of a similar situation from the opening caller (a very enthusiastic Jeff Daniels) and Gilpin telling him how her mom is the attorney general of Wisconsin doesn’t help him feel better. Gilpin’s mom being so prestigious throws Grammer for a temporary spin and him shaming Gilpin for talking to her mom about sex a few episodes ago has an echo. Not sure if it’s a nice echo exactly, but it gives Gilpin some nice passive character development at least.

Grammer’s solution for Mahoney is a telescope, which quickly turns into Mahoney communicating with a similarly aged, similarly telescope peeping woman in the apartment building across from them. Only it turns out Mahoney isn’t so wild about taking the next steps with the woman, for reasons Grammer can’t figure out and ones Leeves intuits. Mahoney gets a great scene talking to Grammer about said reasons, then Leeves gets that even better one talking to Mahoney about what she’s figured out. Excellent stuff.

There’s also the scene where Hyde Pierce brings Noone over to the apartment to meet Mahoney, which does not go well. In fact, it goes hilariously poorly. Hall’s script has that just right combination of layered jokes, immediate laughs, and heartfelt third act.

The episode does have Frasier talking on the phone to son Frederick for the first time—complete with a good Lilith joke—and establishes Frasier does indeed fly out to visit and isn’t a bad dad. Makes you wonder if episode five was enough time to get some notes back on the series after it started airing.

Regardless, it’s a good detail and gives Grammer a different bit of gristle. Because, again, strong script from Hall.

It’s another winner episode and a very nice first-in-series flex for Leeves.

Becker (1998) s01e21 – Lucky Day

Earl Pomerantz did not write any “Becker” episodes previous to this one, which surprised me. His name seemed familiar—he worked on sitcoms for forty years, so no doubt I’ve seen it before—and the way he wrote “Becker” felt, sadly, familiar too.

He does the “Becker whines” approach. So the episode is Ted Danson bitching non-stop about how everything good happening to him in the day is actually going to rubber-band back and be terrible in the end.

Far more interesting—and better written—is Hattie Winston being angry with her husband and Shawnee Smith sticking her nose in. Winston’s fantastic. Smith’s okay. She’s just there to be a foil for Winston, so it’s all supportive. It’d be nice if there was a better balance but also… it’s nice to see Winston to get the spotlight long enough to excel.

The subplot’s also got a great punchline, which stands out even more when the resolution to Danson’s arc is so blah. It even fits the old pattern of Danson checking in with Terry Farrell, like it’s a contractual obligation for Farrell to get screen time but no story (she’s cleaning the diner to avoid the health inspectors, which requires a lot of set decoration but nothing else) before going off and finishing the episode on its own.

Coming right after the previous episode’s home run, Lucky Day is a decided disappointment. Even if there’s the seemingly unintentionally meta moment when Farrell jokes about the world revolving around Danson and Danson can’t find any fault in her logic, even if he can’t explain it. Because it’s his show. Almost neat.

Or would be if the finish weren’t so ugh.

There’s a subplot with a whiney patient, William Hill, who’s not good but it’s also just Danson being mean, which isn’t good either. But Hill comes back for the finish and it’s like… no, don’t bring back the weakest link of the episode.

Hill’s even worse than attractive Post Office employee Kaye Kittrell hitting on Danson as he berates her….

But, hey, Winston’s great.

Becker (1998) s01e20 – Drive, They Said

There’s a disconnect during the opening titles; it says, “Written by David Isaacs and Ken Levine” (or however they do it), but it’s not a particularly good scene. Jonathan Nichols is a patient who stiffs Becker (Ted Danson) on his bills so Danson is mean to him. Beating up on the patient… kind of weird.

Also… Nichols is not so good.

Once that scene’s over, however, it’s the best episode of “Becker” ever. Because it’s Isaacs, Levine, and Andy Ackerman (directing). It’s a sitcom dream team and the episode does not disappoint.

Nichols is a ticket scalper and ends up paying Danson in Mets tickets. Danson’s thrilled and so’s the entire supporting cast because they all have somewhere to go and it’d be easier for Danson to drive them there.

Hattie Winston has to get home to her husband’s surprise party and doesn’t want to take the cake on the train. Shawnee Smith doesn’t want to have to take the train to Queens to meet some guy she maybe once saw on the subway. Alex Désert is visiting his grandmother. And Terry Farrell agrees to go to the game with Danson.

So they all pile into the car—and show why the show’s at its best when the supporting cast all comes together and isn’t segregated between location and when it makes ruthless fun of Danson. There’s some phenomenal one liners this episode, especially the ones at Danson’s expense.

And getting to spend some of the episode in his beyond ramshackle death mobile of car is another delight. Finally someone’s got an idea for an episode outside the two and a half regular locations.

The setup alone ought to be enough for the episode, but then they all end up in the emergency room together and it just keeps getting funnier. Great acting from the cast. I’d forgotten what it was like for Farrell to get material; Shawnee Smith gets some great stuff too. It’s so well-written, so well-executed.

I just hope it’s a sign of what’s to come. I’d given up hope for the show getting as good as this episode.

Becker (1998) s01e18 – Saving Harvey Cohen

The episode plays like writer Eric Cohen really likes “Becker.” Everyone in the cast gets something to do; even if it’s a little subplot, it’s a complete one. The main plot has Becker (Ted Danson) reluctantly caring for a sick stray cat, including some really obvious stuff when he takes it to the vet and gives the vet the same complaints about tests a patient has given him but it’s fine because it’s cute. Danson reluctantly caring for a sick alley cat equals cute.

It’s a fairly gentle main plot, mostly played through in dialogue—the cat’s only in two scenes and doesn’t do much, presumably because finding a cat who’d consent to being lifted around awkwardly isn’t a cat who’s going to then do tricks—so the episode gives literally everyone else a subplot.

Alex Désert has been having sex dreams about Terry Farrell, which Danson initially uses to embarrass Désert—which is still the easy ableist joke since Désert’s blind, but at least Danson’s not directly mocking Désert for his lack of seeing (a series trope)—but then turns into Farrell and Désert teaming up to torment hilarious scumbag Saverio Guerra.

At the doctor’s office, Shawnee Smith has decided to violate HIPAA and celebrate the patients’ birthdays whether they want to or not. It gets a few scenes and some solid smiles if not laughs, though it’s still a network sitcom so of course they cut deep on single scene guest star Valerie Curtin for being a woman in her late forties.

Hattie Winston’s story line involves her trying to find a vacation for curmudgeon Danson, which is definitely the least of the plot lines but it’s something at least.

Other significant single scene guest star? Lance Guest. It’s like old home week for early eighties movie supporting actors who didn’t make it, though Curtin is in a different class than Guest. Guest’s fine, but Curtin’s an Oscar-nominated screenwriter.

It’s a very, very busy episode but an entertaining one—Andy Ackerman’s direction helps, not to mention the lack of abject cynicism.

Becker (1998) s01e15 – Activate Your Choices

David Isaacs wrote this episode, which brings some immediate pluses. The jokes are funnier. Sometimes they’re a lot cheaper, but they’re always funny. And Saverio Guerra’s in the episode. Isaacs doesn’t give him much to do except be hilariously annoying, but it’s basically enough. If only they’d cast someone better to play Ted Danson’s ex-wife, the episode would probably have been in the black.

Instead, they got Alice Krige. Who’s got no chemistry with Danson. They can’t resist one another; while they were married, they had an open relationship… he just didn’t know about it being open. But Krige never stopped wanting Danson. Her intro is she’s written a self-help book and a lot of it is about being married to “The Angry Man” (Danson), once she’s in the episode it’s about Danson trying to resist her and not.

Krige’s got a crap character and doesn’t bring anything performance-wise to transcend it; the episode sets itself up to fail. Not making Krige at all sympathetic… it’s like the show can’t decide how misanthropic it really wants to be. Even with the problems, the Isaacs script is sturdy.

He introduces some actually interesting character details for Shawnee Smith, like her being able to speak fluent Mandarin. Otherwise, no one in the supporting cast gets anything to do. Arguably, Alex Desért and Terry Farrell get even less because the show’s brought in Guerra for the guaranteed laughs.

As I recall, the arrival of Isaacs is when “Becker” starts turning around, but I can’t trust my memory of its better days. I didn’t remember it being this middling so I’m not sure if the improvement is going to be substantial.

Maybe I’m just so nonplussed by the episode’s wastes—Guerra and then blowing a possibly good recurring ex-wife with Krige. Plus, Danson’s a really big dick to worried mom Jenny Gago during an appointment scene and, combined with Krige’s adulterous ex, it feels like the show’s saying something icky; unintentionally, maybe, but still saying it.

Becker (1998) s01e14 – Larry Spoke

This episode of “Becker” has Steven Wright guest starring, so even though it’s not the best writing for Steven Wright, it’s still at least great whenever Wright is on screen.

Wright’s a new patient of Ted Danson’s who hears God. God’s name is Larry and Larry tells Steven Wright to repaint his apartment all the time. Not the funniest situation, but Wright makes it great. It’s actually sort of strange to see some middling plot device so perfectly executed as Wright doesn’t seem very CBS sitcom at all. He’s in jarring contrast to the rest of the show, even when the rest of the show is totally serviceable.

In addition to Wright, Danson’s dealing with a slowly dying patient, Nathan Davis, and the patient’s impatient yuppie daughter, Mary-Joan Negro. It’s not a funny subplot, but a depressing one and it’s borderline unpleasant. Especially juxtaposed against the absurdity of Wright on this show.

The episode also has Hattie Winston and Shawnee Smith stopping in at Terry Farrell’s diner for the first time. Almost more interesting—they all just talk about how obnoxious it is to deal with Danson—it also implies something about Winston and Smith’s life outside the workplace. They walk to the train together, at least on this day, which is kind of nice. Especially since Winston and Smith are in the middle of this C plot about Smith keeping a nice jacket her dry cleaner gave to her by accident.

Though the end of the episode is a little too much; all of a sudden wants to comment on Danson’s apparent atheism versus everyone else’s religiosity. Sure, Wright’s plot brings in the discussion of God… but it’s not like it’s a great concept or anything. It’s great because it’s Steven Wright doing a sitcom guest spot playing Steven Wright. His comebacks are consistently hilarious throughout the episode. The holier than thou finale really misses Wright, who doesn’t get to participate. He’s already had his big finale. The rest is regular cast wrap-up.

Still, there are a lot of solid laughs throughout. Thanks to Wright, yes, but also some with Winston and Smith.

Maybe if Danson were more enthusiastic about the hard drama stuff with Negro, but he’s still sitcom star here.

Uneven or not, it’s nice to have the laughs.

Becker (1998) s01e13 – Becker the Elder

Whenever an episode of “Becker” starts, I hold my breath until the writing credit comes up. This one’s from series creator Dave Hackel, who likes doing the Ted Danson is a master doctor and basically right bastard; the episode opens with him ranting about little people. And even though it’s 1998 or whatever, they know it’s wrong because Alex Désert comments on it. Little bit later Danson’s making fun of how his Hispanic patient talks. So when “Becker” is being icky just to be icky, it’s in Hackel’s line. Andy Ackerman does do a solid directing job, however, because it’s Andy Ackerman.

The episode’s about Becker’s dad, Dick Van Dyke, coming through town. Van Dyke ran out on the family when Danson was eleven and Danson’s never forgiven him. Van Dyke’s never really asked for forgiveness either—until this very special episode, which isn’t even trying to be funny unless you count Hackel punching down (no blind or Black jokes about Désert so apparently someone said there were limits)—but since Hackel writes Becker like a complete Dick, who cares if Van Dyke had a reason to run out or whatever. It’s a waste of Van Dyke as a guest star and rather concerning the show creator hasn’t figured out when the show works.

There’s actually some decent stuff with Hattie Winston and Shawnee Smith, with Smith making Winston laugh, which is at least something pleasant. Because despite Van Dyke being a lovable career salesman, the show positions him as a deceptive dick (no pun) and then walks it back, then forward, then back, then shrugs it off and goes out on a character building moment for Danson.

Of course, Danson is an asshole so who cares. It’s okay he’s an asshole, however, because he treats a guy living on the street—apparently for free—but whatever. Sitcom is an abbreviation for a situation comedy. This episode is a very light, very thin situational drama. I watched the show because I wanted to laugh.

Nope, not this time.

Becker (1998) s01e12 – Love! Lies! Bleeding!

Either I made the comment you knew “Becker” was troubled when not even a solid sitcom director like Andy Ackerman could make an episode work or I meant to make that comment. This episode has Ackerman back and, this time, he’s able to compensate for some of writer Michael Markowitz’s stumbles. Not the misogynist stuff with Alex Désert but there are only so many miracles one can work. So, this episode’s the Valentine’s Day episode and Ted Danson hates Valentine’s Day. He has a rant about its suspect history, which doesn’t seem—based on a Wikipedia glance—to be accurate. If Danson’s going to rant about something, he’s got to be right. Otherwise he’s just a blowhard. The point is he’s right, not he’s a blowhard. Or at least when it works.

But it doesn’t work with Désert or Terry Farrell this episode. Danson implies Désert’s girlfriend is ugly and Désert freaks out, the unspoken joke (for a while) Désert’s blind so what does he care. He cares because he’s a misogynist and so’s Danson. Joy. When Danson later comforts a female patient, it takes a moment before he’s obviously sincere. For a second, you’re expecting him to dig in and humiliate her because… it’s a laugh somehow? At least in Markowitz’s mind.

The episode is Danson running into different kinds of Valentine’s Day goings on, but not specific to the holiday, just romance in general. There’s the girlfriend who stabs the cheating boyfriend, there’s the teenager who wants a vasectomy so he can have unsafe sex, there’s the female patient, who’s allergic to roses. Curmudgeon Danson just can’t get away from signs of love, not even at the office where Shawnee Smith has a whole relationship in one day over the phone (minus the consummating, which might be for the best but also maybe not) and Hattie Winston gets to… talk about her offscreen plans and shake her head at Smith and Danson. Not a great episode for Winston. Or Smith. But Smith at least gets material.

The episode’s got some successful moments, including the return of Saverio Guerra, whose every moment is fantastic. He’s back to torment Farrell and probably a little worse of a guy than Danson and Désert, but not much.

The show’s bottom is higher than before, which is good.

Becker (1998) s01e11 – Scriptus Interruptus

I feel a little like one of those jokes about training an AI to write something because this episode of “Becker”—specifically how I write about it—is going to be very similar to the last time I wrote about an episode of “Becker” written by Ian Gurvitz.

I thought having Andy Ackerman directing would make a difference. Nope. It’s still a very Gurvitz episode. Ted Danson’s rants have that sensational edge to them. Sensational versus inspired. It’s also weird because last episode Danson supposedly learned he didn’t like it when people stopped wanting him as a doctor because of his mouth. This episode doesn’t acknowledge any change.

Also bad with Gurvitz is whatever he’s doing with Terry Farrell. Moving her around, giving her bad lines, it’s a real bummer because she was starting to get her comedy bravado down and instead she’s floundering again. But because of the script having jack for her.

The script’s also got jack for Hattie Winston, which seems weird because the show knows Winston’s awesome. The show—Gurvitz even I’m fairly sure—has showcased her. She gets jack here. Shawnee Smith ostensibly gets more—she’s in between apartments and has to live in the medical office—but she doesn’t actually get more. She’s just around a little more than usual. Not leading scenes around or having a subplot around, just physically around. To give Danson a yelling target.

The episode’s about Danson having to write a medical article and not being able to get any solitude to do so. Spoiler, he pulls it out of his ass, because “Becker” is arguably a more adept version of, you know, “House M.D.” He’s a brilliant jackass. Please laugh.

Alex Désert gets a subplot with Kenna J. Ramsey. Ramsey wants to move in together, Désert doesn’t. It’s a subplot set entirely in the diner, somewhere else for the camera to go when Danson and Farrell are taking a break from expository banter.

It’s not an endearing subplot.

Elya Baskin’s fun as Danson’s new super. It’s a silly, lazy bit but he’s still fun.

This show is so rocky. It’s way too inconsistent, quality-wise. Sure, people watched it once a week but it’s not like you’d care about tuning in after a couple stinkers.

Relatively, obviously, for a generally well-acted and competently produced sitcom. I just want it to get better. Or at least less inconsistent in its mediocre.