Frasier (1993) s04e19 – Three Dates and a Breakup

I don’t know if Rob Greenberg is actually on my list of “Frasier” writers to worry about or if I just think he’s on my list of “Frasier” writers to worry about and I’m mistaking the standard nineties misogyny with it being a repeating problem for Greenberg. Either way, there’s a lot to unpack, as the misogyny interacts with classism, ageism, and just plain old toxic masculinity.

The forty-eight minute episode—a two-parter, which originally aired the same night then went on to get split for syndication I assume—gets off on the wrong foot, with Kelsey Grammer and David Hyde Pierce mocking Peri Gilpin for being sweaty while jogging. She’s going to get a subplot about how her self-esteem is entirely based on what her hometown acquaintances think of her appearance. At no point do professionally trained psychiatrists Grammer or Hyde Pierce do anything but encourage her in this pursuit, albeit with an eye roll because, you know, women are silly.

It’s a profoundly thin subplot, ending with Marsha Mason age-shaming Gilpin? Hopefully Gilpin got to keep the elegant gown she eventually casually strolls around in, but it’s a heck of a subplot in a two-parter about Grammer getting dates with three women on three consecutive days. He’s so happy about it he calls and brags to a (sadly offscreen) Norm Peterson (from “Cheers”). On each of these dates, however, Mason shows up to spoil things. She and John Mahoney are in a fight and Mason’s presence in the apartment messes up the evening for Grammer. But more for his dates, as Mason tends to reveal the things Grammer’s been lying to them about in order to get them in bed.

Ah, the nineties.

Hyde Pierce’s subplot is being jealous of Grammer and also trying to make sure Mason and Mahoney’s fight ends in a breakup, even after it becomes clear the tension is having really negative effects on Mahoney. Initially only Jane Leeves—whose subplot about trying out an American accent isn’t funny, but is the only one where you don’t cringe at some point—notices something wrong with Mahoney, but soon Grammer’s picked it up and out of concern and empathy, changes his tune on Mason (he and Hyde Pierce hate her for being brassy). There’s some great material for Grammer in the finish with Mahoney, but there’s never any great material for Mahoney or Mason, even though the episode’s actually about them.

None of Grammer’s three dates make much impression–two are caricatures, one isn’t even in it enough to be a caricature. Greenberg writes the caricatures as hysterical tropes, while the last is apparently even shallower than Hyde Pierce (or Grammer just thinks so little of her, but, you know, in a good way because society girl?).

There’s some really nice direction from Jeff Melman, but given where the episode goes for Mahoney and Mason, they really ought to have gotten more. It’s also not surprising at all they didn’t; if Greenberg isn’t on my writer problem list, I’m definitely going to remember him for next time.

Though, wait, the C plot about the security guard being able to see in the elevators ends up pretty funny. Could be funnier, but it’s an actual solid laugh and not one where you’re laughing with the bully or lying serial dater.

Frasier (1993) s04e15 – Roz’s Krantz & Gouldenstein Are Dead

It’s producer William Lucas Walker’s first writing credit on the show. I wish it weren’t so obvious—it even sounds like the laugh track is louder and more persistent in the first half of the episode (which ends up being significant entirely for its guest stars)—but every line gets a laugh and they’re not very good lines. Jeff Melman’s direction keeps it in check and the actors manage to find the timing but it is a rough first act.

The episode opens with Kelsey Grammer and David Hyde Pierce out driving and seeing Peri Gilpin working on a road crew. They whisk her away after some mediocre but also some good banter; Gilpin’s got community service and it’s road crew or visiting the old folks. Grammer talks her into doing the old folks instead of the road and her first day, the resident dies on her. Second day, resident dies on her. The subplot for the episode is Hyde Pierce needing a date for an outdoor wedding, which turns into he and Grammer making fun of each other’s wives. It’s really easy jokes from Walker, who stays sex oriented for a recurring erectile dysfunction joke.

Thank goodness it all goes away once Grammer accompanies Gilpin to the old folks home for her final attempt to fill her hours (and not kill anyone).

While Gilpin goes in and starts bonding with fun old dame Lois Smith, Grammer finds himself meeting a super-fan played by… James Earl Jones. So about a quarter of the episode is just Grammer and Jones talking to each other with their perfect voices. Their plot line has to do with Jones being blind—Walker’s got the most original ideas—and it’s a fine enough structure, albeit obvious, for a good guest star.

But Smith’s great too. She gets the deeper role, telling Gilpin all about aging while they suck down cigarettes.

It’s an oddly assembled episode—Grammer and Jones’s bit is just filler, the Hyde Pierce offscreen but fret-worthy subplot is just filler—and Gilpin doesn’t get the biggest laughs, she gets the serious stuff and Smith (rightly) runs those scenes. Though Gilpin does get the entirely solid end credit tag.

Still, it’s a far more uneven episode than this season’s seen in a while if ever.

Frasier (1993) s04e13 – Four for the Seesaw

It’s such a good episode. Clearly season four is where “Frasier” hits its stride, but even so, Four for the Seesaw is a really good episode. It starts with Kelsey Grammer getting his flu shot on air and it not going well to the point he faints—giving Peri Gilpin time to flirt with shot administering doctor, Andrew Heckler, which is important because when it’s time for Grammer and David Hyde Pierce (great Gilpin and Hyde Pierce banter too) to find a table at the café, Gilpin begs the single free one off them to meet him. It leaves Grammer and Hyde Pierce in a conundrum about what to do (for a second it seems like they might actually go somewhere besides Nervosa). Instead, Grammer talks a very nervous (no pun) Hyde Pierce into asking a couple women if they can sit with them while they wait for another table to open up.

The women, played by Lisa Darr and Megan Mullally, agree and the quartet sets about making small talk. Darr and Mullally are positive the brothers won’t be interested in their profession, but it turns out it’s right up their alley and they hit it off. There’s great writing—David Lloyd gets the credit—and directing (Jeff Melman), but Darr and Mullally are also key.

After coffee they go to dinner, then back to Grammer’s apartment to meet the fam, have some drinks, and suggestively flirt. John Mahoney’s very happy to see Grammer and Hyde Pierce with women he can stand. He also offers Grammer a cabin in the mountains for the weekend because he won’t be using it (it’s not the previously established fishing cabin they had a season ago). After some back and forth, Grammer decides to keep going with spontaneity and suggests they all head to the cabin for the week. Darr and Mullally agree, but Hyde Pierce is hung up on his separation from Maris… until Grammer reminds him it’s never happened attractive women have been willing to run off with the Crane boys for the weekend and maybe he should embrace it. Between Grammer’s persuasiveness and Mullally finding Hyde Pierce hilarious (in such a perfect way), Hyde Pierce agrees and it’s off to commercial break then the cabin.

The cabin sequence is going to end up funnier than anything before it, which is an achievement, as Hyde Pierce and Grammer’s separate (and individual) neuroses plague them as they try to ascertain their dates’ intentions. The episode’s got two perfect resolutions, first for the quartet, then for Grammer and Hyde Pierce (in the end credits tag). Grammer’s far more sure of the situation than Hyde Pierce, which leads to some valid conflict, internal and external, as well as some great scenes for Hyde Pierce. There’s also a very interesting contrast between Grammer and Hyde Pierce.

Mahoney and Jane Leeves get a follow-up to the flu shot opening scene which is hilarious too. It’s a brief aside, but wondrous.

It’s a hilarious, well-acted, well-written, extremely well-directed episode. Darr and Mullally—and Grammer, for that matter—don’t end up with a lot to do in the last few minutes, but they’re all just right.

Frasier (1993) s04e08 – Our Father Whose Art Ain’t Heaven

This episode is credited writer Michael B. Kaplan’s first; I may not be keeping good track of the writers on the show, but I’m at least staying familiar with the names and his wasn’t familiar. He does a fine job with it, getting to some good character work in both comedy and drama. Kaplan’s also good at delaying the actual A plot while deliberately laying the groundwork for it.

Art opens with Kelsey Grammer and John Mahoney arguing about the latest Jean-Claude Van Damme movie, which they went to go see as a bonding outing; it was Mahoney’s pick and not only did Grammer hate it, he didn’t let Mahoney pay, which aggravates Mahoney. Niles is hanging out at the apartment because… well, Niles is hanging out at the apartment and he’s introducing his B plot about he and separated wife Maris throwing a party for the same day and having to fight for guests.

When Jane Leeves gets home, threatening to cook a sheepshead stew for dinner, the boys run out to a restaurant. A snooty restaurant, where Mahoney wants to pay and Grammer doesn’t want to let him, leading to some conflict and priming the A plot.

So maybe nine or ten minutes in, we get to the full A plot, which has Mahoney getting Grammer a present Grammer really wishes he wouldn’t have gotten him and Grammer’s consternation over how to broach the subject. Simultaneously, Hyde Pierce is fighting to keep his guest list up. Leeves has a little subplot going, which eventually gets replaced by Peri Gilpin’s own nightmare gift situation. Gilpin only gets one real scene—at the station, providing emotional support for a sick-of-home Grammer, but it’s a very good one for the actors.

Where the episode really scores is in the resolution, which starts with Grammer, Hyde Pierce, and Mahoney before segueing into one of those great “Frasier” father and son scenes for Grammer and Mahoney. Grammer missed out on the last one (that episode where Hyde Pierce took over his plot and the corresponding bonding with Mahoney), but this episode’s even better for it. Hyde Pierce doesn’t get shortchanged, however; he’s got a fine resolve to his B plot too, playing into the A plot perfectly.

It’s another outstanding “Frasier,” with a “just right” end credit sequence for Gilpin and her C plot; Kaplan’s got a very good script, Melman’s direction is good, and Mahoney and Grammer get a nice character development arc.

Frasier (1993) s04e07 – A Lilith Thanksgiving

The title of this episode, A Lilith Thanksgiving, is simultaneously accurate and not. While the episode does indeed guest star Bebe Neuwirth and does indeed take place at Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving is tangential to the plot and doesn’t involve Neuwirth at all. The episode does one of those “Frasier” forecast and switches, where the opening introduces the idea the A plot is going to be Kelsey Grammer, David Hyde Pierce, and John Mahoney going to Hyde Pierce’s luxury cabin to celebrate the holiday, with Neuwirth accompanying she and Grammer’s son, Trevor Einhorn. It’s Einhorn’s first appearance of many as the kid; he’s good.

The first scene has Hyde Pierce on the phone with the caretaker while Peri Gilpin and Jane Leeves have quick scenes—Leeves is going somewhere else, Gilpin is house-sitting the apartment. There are a bunch of good one-liners for everyone, even if it’s obviously a way to get Leeves and Gilpin out of the action so we can just enjoy Mahoney being miserable around Neuwirth.

But wait!

Grammer gets a phone call and it turns out they can’t go to the cabin, they all have to go to Boston—Grammer and Neuwirth have to go to an entrance interview for Einhorn to go to a shishi poopoo private school on Thanksgiving morning. It’ll be Thanksgiving in Boston.

While Grammer and Neuwirth are at the interview, Hyde Pierce is in charge of cooking the turkey and Mahoney’s babysitting Einhorn. Despite the continent-trotting, it’s a very contained episode—there’s the apartment at the beginning, Neuwirth’s kitchen, then the large living room of school headmaster Paxton Whitehead. The present action is a few hours, as Neuwirth and Grammer fret over how they’ve done in the interview and continue to pester Whitehead, even crashing his Thanksgiving dinner.

Meanwhile, Hyde Pierce and Mahoney are breaking the very delicate Einhorn with baseballs, refrigerator doors, and anchovies.

Whitehead’s a perfect guest star, especially for the intensity of Grammer and Neuwirth, who are even more outrageous when acting in unison than against one another. It’s a great guest spot for Neuwirth, whose presence tempers the entire cast and they all get to react against it in different ways. She and Grammer are superb together.

Excellent script, credited to Chuck Ranberg and Anne Flett-Giordano—Gilpin and Leeves have a wonderful moment bonding over Grammer being so difficult—and fine direction as usual from Jeff Melman.

It’s not a “Lilith Thanksgiving” or even much of a Thanksgiving episode, but it’s still a hilarious episode with great performances from the guest stars and the regular cast.

Frasier (1993) s04e06 – Mixed Doubles

It’s another great episode for David Hyde Pierce. He shares the spotlight, but with Jane Leeves and the guest stars, with Kelsey Grammer and John Mahoney supporting the A plot. Their B plot involves staring contests with Eddie the dog. The A plot’s where it’s at.

Christopher Lloyd’s the credited writer and outside his easy jokes about Roz (Peri Gilpin) being promiscuous—the one about Dr. Roz and the Gabor method after Gilpin tells Leeves, who’s just been through a breakup, not to miss a man who doesn’t buy jewelry or perform well in the sack, is technically easy but also inventive—Lloyd writes an outstanding script. Great direction from Jeff Melman too. Melman toggles from sitcom laughs to sincerity quite well, though Hyde Pierce and Leeves do all the hard work. And there are still laughs, just different ones.

The episode opens with Leeves coming home after being dumped and Grammer, Mahoney, and Hyde Pierce all trying to comfort her. In that order because Grammer and Mahoney don’t want to let Hyde Pierce get too hands on while hugging her. Eventually Gilpin shows up because it’s a sitcom and she and Leeves go and commiserate properly.

Leeves’s new single status inspires Hyde Pierce—still indefinitely separated from Maris—to tell her how he feels, only to have Grammer strongly caution him. Give it a day to think about it, Grammer tells him, which becomes a familiar suggestion even after Hyde Pierce and Grammer find out—the next night—Leeves has found a new fellow. She and Gilpin went to a singles bar.

Upset with Grammer, Hyde Pierce calls Gilpin and asks her to take him to the same bar—turns out Gilpin’s an always successful wing-woman at this place. There, Hyde Pierce meets Allison Mackie and the two hit it off.

Fast forward three dates and Hyde Pierce is introducing Mackie to Grammer and Mahoney. Leeves brings home her new beau—Kevin Farrell—who turns out to be a clone of Hyde Pierce, leading to some great laughs for Grammer and Mahoney, then Hyde Pierce once he sees the resemblances.

There are a lot of good Grammer and Hyde Pierce bicker banter laughs before the twist and resolve, with the resolve being where Melman and Lloyd get to showoff their dramatic chops, all thanks to Hyde Pierce and Leeves’s excellent performances.

It’s a great spotlight for Hyde Pierce and showcase for the cast and show in general. Another exemplar “Frasier.”

Also—it’s awesome to see he and Gilpin get some additional time together. Even when they do have occasion to interact, it always seems hurried, this episode they get to take their time.

Frasier (1993) s04e04 – A Crane’s Critique

This episode’s gimmick—Kelsey Grammer and David Hyde Pierce fanboying over J.D. Salinger analogue Robert Prosky, who just wants to drink Ballantine’s and watching baseball with John Mahoney—ages really well. We hit peak pseudo-Salinger four years later with Finding Forrester (raise your hand if you too had a friend who thought Forrester was a real guy because the world before Wikipedia was even more lies) so A Crane’s Critique still feels inventive about it. Plus Prosky is great and not at all what Grammer and Hyde Pierce are expecting.

But the episode also ages well because everything involved—Grammer, Hyde Pierce, Mahoney (who strongly disapproves of their embarrassing fanboying), the script (credited to Dan Cohen and F.J. Pratt), and Jeff Melman’s direction—understands how good Grammer and Hyde Pierce are together when the energy’s right. This episode has little bits of competition but mostly it’s the two working as a team; first they want to meet Prosky, chasing him through the streets (as much as you can without location shooting or a street set), then they want Mahoney to introduce them… then they find themselves alone with his latest manuscript.

Lots of laughs for Grammer and Hyde Pierce as they embarrass themselves in front of Prosky, Mahoney, and, you know, themselves. Mahoney’s entirely support on the A plot, while Jane Leeves’s C plot with Eddie the dog—one keeps watch while the other does something Grammer wouldn’t like—ends up being closer to the B. Peri Gilpin shows up for the opening scene, where she and Hyde Pierce get to trade good barbs.

It’s an excellent episode. Grammer and Hyde Pierce’s chemistry and their timing together is delightful to watch, but the writing and the directing play a large part.

And even though he’s just support, Mahoney’s awesome too.

Frasier (1993) s04e02 – Love Bites Dog

The episode opens with Dan Butler—who’s a regular per the opening titles this episode (but not last; he wasn’t even in the previous episode)—on the phone breaking up cruelly with his latest romance. And, it turns out, her sister as well. It’s dated—at least I hope it’s dated—but, you know, it’s just Butler being Bulldog. I wonder if he was out at this time, which always made Bulldog seem less harmful and more absurdist, having an out gay guy play him. It was the nineties. If you were out and gay, you rarely got work.

Oh, wait. It hasn’t gotten much better, has it.

Anyway.

Suzanne Martin wrote the script, which is the rather funny tale of Roz (Peri Gilpin) trying to set up Kelsey Grammer on a blind date with her friend, Jennifer Campbell (who’s only in one scene but is good). But then Butler crashes it and starts arguing with female golf pro Campbell about golf being a real sport so they run off to fight it out at the links, leaving Grammer alone.

The episode’s already established it’s been a while since Grammer’s had female companionship—it’s a great recurring gag—so he mopes around until he has to step up and be a good male friend for Butler, which gives Grammer a wonderful chance to flex. And David Hyde Pierce a great reacting opportunity.

The episode’s a lot more balanced too—Hyde Pierce has got a subplot about him needing to advertise his psychiatry practice with unexpected snafus while Jane Leeves and John Mahoney go on an odyssey to find shoes. Most striking about their subplot is much of it taking place outside. Like on location exteriors. Can’t wait to see if they get out more this season.

It’s a really funny subplot though the punchline manages to date just as poorly as the opening with Butler.

Gilpin gets the least amount of time for the regular cast, but it’s balanced between her and Hyde Pierce—they have a great interchange as one exits so the other can enter—and the material she does get is a funny showcase.

Butler gets quite a bit to do, including showing some (comically) emotional range and he’s excellent. “Frasier” is already a full show but they seem—if Martin’s approach is an indicator—to be working harder on the balance between regular cast than they’ve previously done, especially for Leeves. She and Mahoney are so good together.

The handful of problems are problems but the episode makes a fine case for the addition of Butler as a regular.

Frasier (1993) s03e06 – Sleeping with the Enemy

Mercedes Ruehl’s really funny. She’s been good on “Frasier” before and the casting is working out great, but this episode she’s occasionally really, really funny. Like they must’ve had this episode in mind when casting the part because she and Kelsey Grammer’s back and forth yelling is next level phenomenal.

They’re yelling because Ruehl’s frozen the salaries for the station staff—i.e. not the talent—which leads Peri Gilpin and her colleagues (specifically guest star Patrick Kerr) to near organizing. They back down when Ruehl yells at them; luckily, Grammer’s going to champion their cause and get the on-air talent to support them in a strike.

The moment where Grammer goes from being an opinionated, disconnected blowhard to committing to helping is a really nice one, courtesy credited writers Linda Morris and Vic Rauseo. It’s a little moment but a very good one, character development-wise.

There’s a great scene at the apartment where Grammer’s trying to rally the talent, with David Hyde Pierce showing up to feel uninvited, then Jane Leeves and John Mahoney getting to meet Edward Hibbert. Mahoney and Hibbert are perfect foils for one another, little bit less when Hibbert sneers at Leeves.

The organizing scene turns out to be a really good one, particularly for Mahoney, with some very deliberate pacing.

But the episode’s not even to the hook yet–Ruehl and Grammer’s distain for one another turning into lust. Here’s where the chemistry between Grammer and Ruehl really starts to pay off, their timing from the yelling banter working with everything else; great comedy acting from the actors.

There’s a “to be continued” tag—can Grammer successfully negotiate the deal given his new romantic predicament—but the cliffhanger nicely still allows for a great end credits sequence for Kerr.

Becker (1998) s01e10 – P.C. World

There are some weird optics to P.C. World. You’ve got Ted Danson, who just six years earlier burned out due to a really bad public blackface incident and is coming back with this “Becker” show, reformed. Now, Danson’s gone on to be one of the least problematic Hollywood liberals and a damn fine actor, but in 1999… Danson getting to aha an East Coast liberal type (Robert Joy) on the radio? It was optics.

See, Joy was at Danson’s breakfast place and heard Danson yelling about how he hates rap music, making fun of Alex Désert’s blindness and possibly through in a Black jab (related to the rap music?), and saying “you people” to the Asian American guy (Phil Nee) who has just hit Danson’s bar. Now, we all know it’s okay because Danson’s not racist, he’s just an exceptional asshole. It would probably would better if writer Michael Markowitz’s rants were better or Jeff Melman’s direction was better. Markowitz also appears as the radio show host interviewing Danson and Joy. He’s more fun as an actor.

Then there’s this whole subplot about Hattie Winston being okay with Shawnee Smith selling cosmetics from the doctor’s office because Smith’s got the skin care secrets now. I’d think there’d be some kind of ethical violation, patients rights or something, especially since Smith’s doing it in one of those direct selling pyramid schemes. The subplot gives Smith one of her biggest focuses in the series so far, but it’s not a good subplot. It’s not a good focus. She’s fine, but she’s just being silly—as she becomes the make-up “dealer”—not funny or even good. It’s a waste of a subplot. Versus the waste of a main plot.

“Becker” had shown some major improvements the previous couple of episodes, but this episode learned none of their positive lessons. The misanthropy vs. bigotry thing ends up being a cop out, which is weird since the best scene in the episode is when Black man Earl Billings stops going to doctor Danson because of Danson’s bravado.

It’s like someone said, hey, maybe let’s take this seriously. And then someone else said, no, let’s have Danson stick it to the performative liberal.

Zing.