Frasier (1993) s03e22 – Frasier Loves Roz

I wanted a Roz (Peri Gilpin) episode, and for my sins, they gave me one.

Frasier Loves Roz is not a bad episode. It’s a mediocre episode to be sure, but it’s not bad. It’s problematic because writer Suzanne Martin can’t decide whether or not to do easy body shaming jokes, or homophobic ones, or more broadly queer-phobic ones. Also it’s all about how Gilpin’s done sleeping around (so she can get married and have kids and never have to be a bridesmaid again); so now she’s going to settle down with a good bloke.

Unfortunately the bloke in question—a personality-free Michael Mitz—is actually a sex addict patient of David Hyde Pierce’s. Hyde Pierce tells Kelsey Grammer about it, but forbids Grammer to warn Gilpin because of patient-client privacy; therapist to therapist doesn’t matter also because they’re men and Gilpin’s not. Grammer feels weird about not being able to warn Gilpin as she gets more and more serious about Mitz. Gilpin can tell Grammer’s acting weird and doesn’t like Mitz, but doesn’t know why.

There are significant time leaps in the episode, which the title cards explain. Possibly awkwardly, possibly with charm, since I’m veering negative on the episode I’m going with the former. But eventually Jane Leeves tells Gilpin she overheard Grammer on the phone and he’s just jealous—he’s in love with Gilpin, which sets up some other complications and then combines with the original confusion in the conclusion.

Adequately.

Good performances from Gilpin and Grammer—and a really nice sequence for Hyde Pierce supporting Grammer—but the script’s really shallow. Got some jokes. But it’s shallow.

The only subplot involves Grammer and Hyde Pierce trying to convince John Mahoney to record him for future generations on a camcorder. It’s excellent stuff; the episode would’ve been a lot worse without it.

So while it’s nice Gilpin finally gets a plot to herself, it’s too bad it’s this one. Also it’d be nice to see Gilpin and Leeves pass a Bechdel… though their scene talking about the potential of Grammer crushing on Gilpin is hilarious.

Frasier (1993) s03e21 – Where There’s Smoke There’s Fired

It’s time for the seasonal Bebe (Harriet Sansom Harris) episode and it’s another fantastic one. I keep looking at Harris’ IMDb page because her never winning an Emmy for this part has got to be a mistake. She wasn’t even nominated, yet she’s so good.

But we don’t know right off Harris is going to figure in; the episode starts with David Hyde Pierce struggling to get a loan for a new antique footstool. He’s struggling to live without separated wife Maris’s money; it’s going to be the closest thing the episode gets to a main subplot—I guess if it’s the B plot, there’s a great, tiny C plot involving the other radio personalities at the station. Hyde Pierce is eventually going to join a warehouse club, which is leads to a really funny moment.

The main plot starts with Peri Gilpin arriving at the apartment—leading to some great banter between her and Hyde Pierce—to tell Kesley Grammer the scoop on the radio station’s new owner, a Texan named Big Willy (Richard Hamilton in a perfect little part). Grammer and Gilpin want to ingratiate themselves as much as possible because Hamilton’s all about syndicating shows. If only Grammer could get ahold of Harris, but she’s mysteriously unavailable.

Because she’s busy being engaged to Hamilton, which comes as a great punchline after they set up Hamilton wanting Grammer to cure his new fiancée of her smoking in three days time. Syndication hangs in the balance so how can Grammer refuse.

The second half of the episode is all of Grammer’s efforts to get Harris to give up the smokes over the three days; they’re sequestered at the apartment, so Harris gets to interact with the entire supporting cast (well, except Gilpin, unfortunately). But there’s great stuff for Harris and Jane Leeves, while John Mahoney sort of gets to solo his gags. They’re great, but they’re separate. Hyde Pierce meanwhile sort of bonds with fellow marry-upper Harris.

The episode—written by Joe Keenan, who wrote Harris’s last episode—spotlights her performance. She gets a show-stopper monologue about cigarettes, then an excellent physical comedy sequence (good direction from Philip Charles MacKenzie); it’s her episode. Though Grammer does get an eventual killer monologue of his own; it’s still not as good as Harris’s.

It’s an awesome episode. Harris is a wonder.

Just hope someone fixes her IMDb before next season’s Bebe episode.

Frasier (1993) s03e20 – Police Story

Police Story is a standout episode—and writer Sy Rosen’s sole “Frasier” credit—from the very start. It’s a moving car shot with Kelsey Grammer and Peri Gilpin, where Gilpin’s getting ready in the back seat and getting Grammer to speed because they’ve got to get to her date on time. It’s a fantastic sequence and going to kick off season three regular director Philip Charles MacKenzie’s best-directed episode.

Grammer’s speeding gets him pulled over and Gilpin convinces him to turn on the celebrity to try to get out of trouble. Grammer’s hesitant until it turns out the cop is the fetching Jane Kaczmarek, who’s a fan of his show. Lucky for him.

Thanks to having an ex-cop for a dad (John Mahoney), Grammer’s able to find out Kaczmarek’s identity… but not in a stalker way, obviously, in that cute eighties and nineties romantic pursuit (stalker) way. It’s a cop bar so Mahoney tags along, only to discover Kaczmarek was a devoted student from Mahoney’s academy teaching days. And she’d love to go out on a date with him, which all happens when Grammer’s off getting drinks for the table.

It turns out to be a great episode for Mahoney and Grammer, albeit separately to some extent because Mahoney can’t really go to Grammer for advice. Instead he goes to other son David Hyde Pierce and gives Hyde Pierce a wonderful comedic subplot as he giddily anticipates Grammer’s inevitable humiliation. It doesn’t seem bad when Hyde Pierce does it.

Anyway. After the big twist with Kaczmarek going for the older model, then there’s another when Grammer finds out about it, and a finale third twist in the middle of twist the viewer’s in on but the characters aren’t. That last twist gives Grammer a bunch of good acting fodder and Grammer delivers. The second half of the episode—starting with a great scene between Grammer and Jane Leeves and her friends—is a spotlight on Grammer and he’s got a whole bunch to do.

Grammer’s excellent, Mahoney’s excellent, Kaczmarek’s a good guest, Gilpin’s stuff is outstanding (she gets to help close it up), MacKenzie’s direction, Rosen’s script. If Story is any indication, it’s too bad Rosen didn’t write more “Frasier.” The MacKenzie direction too is just superb.

Frasier (1993) s03e19 – Crane vs. Crane

At first it seems like Crane vs. Crane is going to be a Martin (John Mahoney) versus his snobby sons episode, as it opens with David Hyde Pierce going on about how he’s going to be on Court TV testifying in a competency hearing for an old lumber baron (Donald O’Connor) whose son is trying to take his money away from him. Hyde Pierce is joking about O’Connor’s diminished capacities, which upsets Mahoney. Kelsey Grammer sides with Hyde Pierce.

Right up until he gets hired to evaluate O’Connor himself—Grammer initially disagrees but then thinks he should do it in order to make sure Hyde Pierce isn’t making any mistakes. At O’Connor’s mansion, he finds an eccentric philanthropist who likes having fun and Grammer becomes more and more convinced little brother Hyde Pierce has got it wrong. Grammer just doesn’t want him to embarrass himself.

Fast forward to the court room—the episode’s got a rather good couple special locations in—O’Connor’s mansion play-land and the court set. Now it’s time for the show down; Hyde Pierce is ready (and ready for the cameras) and Grammer’s ready to tear him down. It’s just a question of who’s going to go first.

There are a lot of good jokes this episode—starting right away with a combination Eddie and Wagner (the composer) joke; there’s a particularly good Hyde Pierce speaking German lyrics moment. The way David Lloyd’s script nimbly segues between the subplots in the bickering with Mahoney, Grammer, and Hyde Pierce at the opening primes the episode. It’s a very good script from Lloyd.

Because in addition to the joke jokes with Grammer learning how to be playful or the amazing courtroom sequence, there are also these very earnest, raw, tender scenes for Hyde Pierce and Grammer as Hyde Pierce has to confront his jealousy over Grammer’s notoriety and how it’s affecting Hyde Pierce’s professional conduction. Usually it’s just subtext for a laugh, here everyone wants to examine it under fluorescents. It’s an impressive change of tone on it too, with Hyde Pierce giving the better performance but Grammer doing quite well too. There’s a tonal shift in how the episode addresses that aspect of the plot and that character conflict. It really works out.

There’s also a tiny subplot for Peri Gilpin about her fixing up the calls Grammer gets wrong on the show, which is a wonderful detail even if it’s a throwaway in this episode.

Frasier (1993) s03e17 – High Crane Drifter

This episode’s got an outstanding last scene, which basically makes up for the rest of it. And the last scene is outstanding because of David Hyde Pierce as a showcase for his mix of physical and dialogue comedy, nothing else. It’s a bit of a deus ex machina just because Hyde Pierce hasn’t had anything to do for the majority of the episode, except occasionally play off a ranting Kelsey Grammer.

Grammer’s mad because no one’s got any common decency or courtesy anymore. It starts, rather amusingly, with him being late to his radio show because someone took his spot. Peri Gilpin has to fill in, which gives her a nice scene, and there’s a decent—albeit insensitive—punchline.

But the more Grammer goes about his day, the more discourtesy he experiences. The episode’s fairly tone-deaf—script credited to Jack Burditt—especially when Grammer and Hyde Pierce are standing around waiting for a table whining about their lives as upper middle class (or are they lower upper class) white men who can’t get a table after their four hours of hard work a day. The table becomes the big plot perturbation, when fellow privileged white guy John Cygan steals their table and Grammer loses it–getting cheers from the rest of the restaurant.

Because they wouldn’t have had the courage to fight for their own tables, even though they may have gotten them without waiting appropriately. No deep thoughts.

Anyway, Grammer quickly becomes a hero to the people of Seattle and a crusader against discourtesy, which makes Hyde Pierce jealous and John Mahoney proud. Mahoney fawning over Grammer the tough guy makes those scenes. Hyde Pierce being dejected not so much.

There’s a funny laundry subplot with Jane Leeves, including a great resolve in the end credits sequence.

But yeah, Hyde Pierce saves the day and the episode it turns out. There’s just something way too easy (read: lazy) about Burditt’s script. It’s a generic sitcom script with some “Frasier” trappings but not enough.

And the callout to How Green Was My Valley—part of Grammer getting fed up involves his pursuit of a VHS copy, little does he realize his video store only stocks Paramount releases (because Paramount produced “Frasier”)—is an odd one. Maybe it’s just been too long since I’ve seen it. But it doesn’t seem like the right reference.

Anyway. Yay, Hyde Pierce. Eh, Burditt.

Frasier (1993) s03e15 – A Word to the Wiseguy

Is the “member of the Italian-American social club” visits a WASP-y sitcom a trope or just does seem like a trope? I feel like every sitcom with a sufficient number of episodes is going to to get to it eventually… at least when you still could make Godfather and GoodFellas dialogue references. Not sure anyone’s out there trying to work The Irishman into banter.

Anyway.

Not Italian-American Harris Yulin is the guest star. He’s apparently a local mobster who knows enough dirty Seattle cops and D.A.s he can get Maris’s warrant cancelled. She got busted for unpaid parking tickets and ran to David Hyde Pierce (proverbially and obviously offscreen) for help, probably assuming he was going to ask ex-cop dad John Mahoney for help.

Hyde Pierce tries, but Mahoney doesn’t think the law should apply differently for cops’ families because there was never a better time to be a naive liberal sitcom writer than the nineties.

Peri Gilpin knows a guy who knows a guy, who turns out to be Yulin. He can take care of Hyde Pierce’s problem, but he’s going to want something in return. And thanks to Kelsey Grammer going along to the meet, Yulin thinks he’s got the radio psychiatrist in his pocket too. So when the favor comes a-knocking, what will Grammer do?

It’s a funny episode—decent material for the regular cast, including Gilpin, who gets some more screen time when the action returns to the radio show—and Yulin is fine. He’s seemingly alternating between a Christopher Walken and a Marlon Brando as far as his voice goes. Or his Brando just sounds like his Walken. The end punchline is really good.

It’s just a bit of an easy episode.

Also, see The Irishman if you haven’t had a chance.

Frasier (1993) s03e12 – Come Lie with Me

The episode begins with Jane Leeves in bed with boyfriend Tony Carreiro, having slept in, and her antics trying to get him out of the apartment unseen. Since she’s not up to referee John Mahoney and Kelsey Grammer, they’re already bickering with one another. There’s a nice layering to the plot threads, which all come together at the worst possible moment. With Eddie the dog then able to up the awkward. It’s really funny, giving Leeves more of a chance with physical comedy than she’s had lately.

Grammer goes about his day, starting at the coffee shop—where he doesn’t tell David Hyde Pierce about the incident (Hyde Pierce is kept ignorant of Leeves and Grammer’s entire arc this episode, presumably intentionally). Instead, he’s busy with his own subplot about Maris not inviting him to one of her charity benefits, keeping him from seeing their hoity-toity friends.

The subplot will lead to a cowboy hat—the charity event’s called “Hoedown for the Homeless”—and figure into Grammer and Mahoney’s eventual arc, which is nice plotting from Levitan. Even though Hyde Pierce is sort of absent, it’s cohesively done.

Because Grammer is going to talk to Peri Gilpin about the incident with Leeves and he is not going to heed any of her—or Mahoney’s advice—and he is going to demand Leeves not have any sex while living under his roof. Not because he’s a prude, but because imagining it will interrupt his reading.

The episode itself is mostly going to center around Mahoney and Grammer, who it turns out can’t live alone together. There’s some great material for Mahoney, both sight gags and dialogue-based jokes. He and Grammer both play annoyed quite well.

It’s a good episode. Lots of laughs. Leeves gets more substantial screen time even if it’s less than it ought to be given it’s kind of her episode; it’s not like they satisfactorily unpack Grammer’s assumption he can control Leeves’s personal life.

Frasier (1993) s03e11 – The Friend

It’s the first Kelsey Grammer-centric episode in a while, with Grammer realizing he doesn’t have any friends outside his family and ending up stuck with annoying new bestie Griffin Dunne, who Grammer can’t dump because Dunne’s in a wheelchair and what if Dunne thinks it’s about the wheelchair. Kind of wants to turn ableism inside out. Or outside in. It was the nineties, wheelchairs were still sight gag.

The script’s from one of the show’s co-producers, Jack Burditt, and it’s his first time with a script credit. There’s still a lot of funny stuff, but the hook has to do with Grammer getting two tickets for the track and David Hyde Pierce not being able to go with him.

To the track.

To watch the ponies.

It leads to a Maris joke, which might’ve been the point, but it’s a long way to get there and a very strange detail. Especially since Grammer apparently does not take Dunne to the race track. After their first meeting, the action jumps ahead two weeks. Maybe they went to the race track. Probably should mention it.

Anyway.

Hyde Pierce has a fun subplot about trying to make new friends too. John Mahoney and Jane Leeves both get solid jokes. Peri Gilpin gets an awesome couple scenes—totally as backup to Grammer—so Burditt does give everyone something, even when the focus is on Grammer and Dunne.

It’s a funny episode. It’s an easy sitcom, but it’s definitely funny, and well-acted from Grammer and Hyde Pierce in particular. Dunne’s fine. It’s fine. Just not particularly special.

Destry Rides Again (1939, George Marshall)

There are a lot of great shots in Destry Rides Again, with director Marshall finding a lot of raw human emotion in a comedic Western; it starts with opening titles, which are a long tracking shot introducing the setting—the town of Bottleneck. The tracking shot is at night (cinematographer Hal Mohr’s black and white photography is gorgeous and never more than in low light or night exteriors, it’s just glorious) and the town is hopping with drunk cowboys shooting off their pistols in glee as they file in and out of the single saloon. Brian Donlevy owns the saloon, Marlene Dietrich is the headlining star, though we don’t find out about Donlevy right away. Initially, he’s just a guy losing at cards.

Only he’s got an ace in the hole—Dietrich. After she does her first song, she heads upstairs to help out, introducing some of the the supporting cast on her way. Marshall’s really big on continuous movement, whether a shot or between them, and Dietrich quickly establishes drunk Charles Winninger, devoted fan Mischa Auer, and town mayor Samuel S. Hinds.

Turns out Donlevy and Dietrich aren’t just a couple, they’re a criminally enterprising couple—they’re cheating ranchers out of their land to set up a toll road for cattle (when they cheat yet another victim, it’s hard not to just think, well, it’s capitalism)—and eventually sheriff Joe King’s going to have to do something about it.

Now King is just a regular sheriff, not a mythic Old West sheriff, though Winninger used to be deputy to one those—name of Destry—something he can’t stop talking about. At least when he’s conscious. If only they could get someone like Destry again.

Good thing there’s a Destry Jr. out there, James Stewart, who Winninger calls in Donlevy goes too far.

It takes twenty minutes before Stewart shows up (Dietrich is top-billed so character name in the title doesn’t matter here) and he’s not what anyone’s expecting. Not Winninger, not Donlevy or Dietrich, not new-to-town rancher Jack Carson… or his sister, Irene Harvey. Stewart’s an amiable fellow who tries to deescalate situations instead of shooting things up, speaking in Old West dad jokes.

Destry’s got a lot of things going for it—Marshall, Stewart, Dietrich, Winninger, Donlevy, all the other actors (especially Auer and Una Merkel)—so maybe all things—but the script is something spectacularly spectacular. Felix Jackson, Gertrude Purcell, and Henry Myers only have seventy-six minutes (starting when Stewart shows up—that first twenty mnutes is continuous action set in a night); they do a lot with it. There are full subplots for Winninger, Auer and Merkel (they’re a married couple), Dietrich (separate from Donlevy and Stewart; she’s got arcs with both of them too), and also Carson. Tom Fadden gets sort of half a subplot to himself before son Dickie Jones takes it over. Plus minor subplots for Harvey, Lillian Yarbo, and….

Everyone. Basically everyone who doesn’t die right away gets at least a minor subplot for the film to keep running to give the film its verisimilitude. It’s a short film with a limited setting (they leave town—and presumably back lot—once to go to a ranch), it’s got three big musical numbers, and the arcs for Dietrich and Stewart, Stewart and Winninger, and Stewart and Donlevy are all rather complex but they still make time for the background. Turns out to be particularly important for the twist in the finale.

Because the script is phenomenal. All of the great moments (save probably that opening title tracking shot) come through thanks to the script. Getting Stewart and Dietrich into the room in the right way, getting Stewart and Harvey their brief moments, a subplot change in the Dietrich’s style, the way Marshall holds on Donlevy’s bravado until the layers become visible—ditto Dietrich—there are a lot of great scenes.

But nothing compares to the deus ex machina. All of a sudden Marshall slows Destry down and zooms in hard on Stewart and demands an entirely different moment. The film—again thanks to the script and Stewart, Dietrich, and Winninger’s performances—all of a sudden needs Stewart to show a precise depth he’d only ever implied implying before. It’s classic movie magic in that way the ingredients all have to be right for the film to succeed so well and it’s breathtaking good. Marshall maybe seems a little lost during some of the musical numbers—he’s focusing on Dietrich whether he should be or not—but otherwise his direction is outstanding.

Destry is an exceptionally subtle yet often uproarious comedy, an always sultry and always sincere morality play, and an exciting action movie. It’s truly wonderful and rather charmingly casual about it.

Frasier (1993) s03e10 – It’s Hard to Say Goodbye If You Won’t Leave

I thought this episode was the season finale but, no, it’s not even halfway through the season.

As Kelsey Grammer realizes he’s still pining for station manager Mercedes Ruehl (they’ve behaved since their on-air tryst) and commits to doing something about it, Ruehl is accepting a transfer to Chicago. They’ve both been fantasizing about each other—a hilarious use of stock footage and some original, with an additional gag after Peri Gilpin makes the mistake of imagining the couple. She finally finds out Ruehl was Grammer’s partner for the on-air escapade, but doesn’t seem to remember she should be upset Grammer was getting busy with his negotiation adversary for Gilpin and the station personnel’s raises.

It works out real funny, just seems like a missed opportunity in Steven Levitan’s script but, what can you do, sitcom continuity.

After a good conversation scene with John Mahoney—David Hyde Pierce and Jane Leeves are there, but they have their own running comedy bit about old movies going—Grammer decides to tell Ruehl how he feels and see what happens.

It ends up being another fine showcase for Ruehl and Grammer, with some great dialogue and some funny twists. It’s not the best they’ve ever been together, but it’s a solid—albeit functional—episode. Grammer does a particularly good job as the romantic hero here, keeping enough of the character’s goofiness, but finding the heart under it all.

The ending tag is particularly cute too, because it involves Hyde Pierce doing physical comedy and the dog being the dog.