At the end of the day, Cheers is a series about a bar, it’s owner and his waitstaff, and the drunks they serve. That said, it’s also really, really good.
I say this not based on the show’s reputation and lasting relevance, but on the strength of this fourth season which has taken me an eternity to finish. The whole Frasier meltdown intertwined with the SamAndDianeWillTheyWontTheyLoveDrama has been interesting to watch. Yet the more dramatic elements of the show have been spaced out enough this season that when they do occur, they seem to hit with a poignancy that’s atypical of sitcoms.
One great example of the show blending typical comedy with drama is the aptly titled “Dark Imaginings” in which Sam and Woody go head to head in racquetball. This, of course, comes about when Sam gets the impression people think Woody is more athletic and younger than he is. The problem, of course, is that Woody is more athletic and younger than Sam.
Mayday ends up with his whole body aching, leading to some rare physical comedy on the part of Ted Danson. Cue laugh track, end of show, right? That’s exactly where a show like, say, Everybody Loves Raymond would call it a day. Yet, Cheers takes it a step further with Sam not only going to the hospital with a hernia, but also going to great lengths to hide his injuries from the other characters.
Back at the bar, Diane overhears a table of nurses talking about a sexy patient they’ve been looking after named “Lance Manyon.” Diane drops a glass and declares, “My God, it’s Sam!”
Concerned, Carla, Woody, and Diane visit Mayday. Once the others leave, Diane talks Sam into letting her read for him. He agrees and lets her sit on his bed before slowly creeping away and pushing an end table against the hospital room door. Diane continues reading as Sam lowers the lights and shuts the curtains. Once aware of what ole’ Mayday is up to, Diane explains things will not be going how Sam intended. “This is a once in a lifetime chance to play doctor in a real hospital!” Sam protests, to no avail. Instead, his once (and probably future) lover takes pity on him by explaining he doesn’t have to use his libido to prove to himself he’s still young. Rather, Ms. Chambers argues, growing old is a good thing, particularly for men who she says become more distinguished in mid-life.
From here, Diane bids Mayday adieu and Sam is greeted by a roommate who recognizes him from his Red Sox days. The two have a conversation about accepting being in middle age before the new roommate is greeted with his own guest. She’s introduced to Sam and the three continue to make small talk for a minute before, naturally, Mayday hits on her and tells her if she’s everything thinking about leaving her boyfriend she can call up Sammy any time.
I should reiterate that last season on his way to break-up Diane’s wedding to Frasier, Sam hit on the stewardess of his flight. It makes perfect sense for him to hit on the wife/girlfriend of one of his fans. Worse than a casual rejection to his causal proposition, Mayday is hit with being told matter-of-factly that the woman is not the guy’s girlfriend, but his daughter. The two look down on Sam for his audacity and leave the room for a walk.
The studio audience gets a get laugh out of this, sure, but it leads to a great image in which Sam sits down at the chair near the window and looks out over the Boston night sky. No more laughter. No applauding. Just the audience looking at the main character of a sitcom being hit with the cold hard truth that he’s a tomcat for whom life just may have passed by.
Showing posts with label s4. Show all posts
Showing posts with label s4. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
The Love Song of Trevor and Colette
Around the start of the new year, I tweeted that I just watched the funniest episode of Cheers ever. I also mentioned I'd be writing about it the following week -- clearly, that didn't happen. Yet the month gap between saying I'd be writing about it and then actually doing that writing -- and the fact that I went back and re-watched it -- has only reaffirmed my love for the episode.
For those of you keeping score at home, it's episode 11 of season 4, entitled "Don Juan is Hell." In short, the premise is this: Diane, forever and always in grad school for some reason, is stressing out over her upcoming paper for her psychology class. Finding out that the focus of the paper is human sexuality, Sam is more than willing to lend a hand anyway he can. Crunched for time, Diane agrees and uses Sam as the subject of her paper, "The Don Juan Syndrome in Modern Culture." As you can probably gather, hilarity indeed ensues.
In the back office, Diane interviews Sam for her case study asking him about his sexual history, beginning with the loss of his virginity. To this question, Mayday responds "Well, I couldn't get to her house until the crossing guard showed up..."
Disgusted at the answer, Diane presses Mayday on his second encounter. "Well, that would've been the crossing guard." From there, Mayday http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifgoes on to freely give many more examples before Diane stops him. ("I'm writing a case study, not a resume!")
Sure, the jokes here are fairly one-dimensional and a bit immature. But the after three and a half seasons together, Ted Danson and Shelley Long certainly have great chemistry on screen together and their delivery of dialogue is pitch perfect for their characters. And besides, as someone who will forever cite Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy is the greatest comedy of all time, this episode is certainly in my wheelhouse.
Later on, Diane's professor swings by the bar -- because, you know, talking to her after class is just too particular -- to give her warm reviews for her paper. He's amazed that such a man as Mayday, renamed in the paper as "Trevor", exists in this day and age (of 1985). Diane is delighted to learn he finds it publishable, but is embarrassed to hear that the professor feels the paper would benefit from her interviewing one of the self-esteemless bimbos who has served as one of many of Trevor's conquests. Wanting the paper to get published, she adds in some material from "Colette" who, of course, is herself.
Wanting to verify the accuracy of the paper, the professor meets Mayday who, without having read the paper, reassures the prof it's all true though "we had to change a few of the names to protect the satisfied." Besides the wittiness of the dialogue, the other joke here is the fact that, in the sitcommy nature of things, Sam hasn't read the paper beyond the title and has no idea Diane paints a portrait of a man who is pathetic, insecure, lonely and a clear case of arrested development.
One of the great delights of the episode is the professor's continual astonishment that Trevor/Sam/Mayday is an actual living, breathing human being. Whether intentional or not, it serves as a little bit of poking at the fourth wall seeing as the chauvinistic, oversexed Mayday is a character who in the real world would have been sued for harassment a thousand times over and/or murdered by a scorned lover for his tomcatting ways.
The prof suggests he hold the next class session at Cheers, an idea Diane is wholeheartedly against. Mayday, of course, is game. "It'd give some of students a chance to see the case study in the living flesh," the professor says, attempting to twist Diane's arm. "Well, I'm not gonna promise that, but we'll see how the evening goes," replies Sam, to thunderous applause from the live studio audience.
Diane reluctantly agrees and pleads with Sam that he read the paper before the class comes over. Obviously, he doesn't read a word of it, so when the class comes in for their meeting, he gathers them around and begins holding a Q & A session on his sexual history and methods, going so far as hitting on one of Diane's classmates in the process. From there, Mayday asks a male student how he approaches women and interrupts the kid once he says he politely asks a girl out and tries to take things slow and let love blossom naturally. ("Ok, now can anyone tell me where Barry here fell off the beam?")
Embarrassed, or perhaps ashamed, Diane puts a halt to the Q & A and speaks with Sam in the office. She reads from her paper, making sure it sinks in to Sam that the portrait painted in her case study is anything but flattering. Rather than get angry, Sam becomes dejected and buys into the argument Diane has made in her paper.
Saddened to see Mayday's feelings hurt, Diane protests that he is capable of having a relationship with a woman without sex serving as an ulterior motive. She uses the two of them as an example of a relationship Sam has with a woman where the friendship is mature, mutual and platonic. "I wish there was some well to prove it to you," Diane says. This, of course, prompts Sam to respond with "Maybe there is... sit on my lap."
Diane, understandably, is hesitant but does agree to the idea and together the two sit and try to have a conversation to prove they are two adults of the opposite sex who can maintain a professional, mature friendship. The cohttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifnversation goes from the weather to vacationing in the sun to the idea of getting sunburnt to preventing sunburn through the rubbing of oil. They change topics to music and then religion, both times ending up speaking in sexual metaphors before quickly agreeing their relationship is clearly platonic.
So why, exactly, did I find this ep so funny? Again, the dialogue is witty and delivered brilliantly. But what I think makes the episode really stand out is the fact that it's 1985 and while the subject matter is mature, the actual dialogue is pretty PG. And as someone who is a fan of modern sitcoms that ere on the raunchy side, I can appreciate the subtlety of the hilarity.
For those of you keeping score at home, it's episode 11 of season 4, entitled "Don Juan is Hell." In short, the premise is this: Diane, forever and always in grad school for some reason, is stressing out over her upcoming paper for her psychology class. Finding out that the focus of the paper is human sexuality, Sam is more than willing to lend a hand anyway he can. Crunched for time, Diane agrees and uses Sam as the subject of her paper, "The Don Juan Syndrome in Modern Culture." As you can probably gather, hilarity indeed ensues.
In the back office, Diane interviews Sam for her case study asking him about his sexual history, beginning with the loss of his virginity. To this question, Mayday responds "Well, I couldn't get to her house until the crossing guard showed up..."
Disgusted at the answer, Diane presses Mayday on his second encounter. "Well, that would've been the crossing guard." From there, Mayday http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifgoes on to freely give many more examples before Diane stops him. ("I'm writing a case study, not a resume!")
Sure, the jokes here are fairly one-dimensional and a bit immature. But the after three and a half seasons together, Ted Danson and Shelley Long certainly have great chemistry on screen together and their delivery of dialogue is pitch perfect for their characters. And besides, as someone who will forever cite Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy is the greatest comedy of all time, this episode is certainly in my wheelhouse.
Later on, Diane's professor swings by the bar -- because, you know, talking to her after class is just too particular -- to give her warm reviews for her paper. He's amazed that such a man as Mayday, renamed in the paper as "Trevor", exists in this day and age (of 1985). Diane is delighted to learn he finds it publishable, but is embarrassed to hear that the professor feels the paper would benefit from her interviewing one of the self-esteemless bimbos who has served as one of many of Trevor's conquests. Wanting the paper to get published, she adds in some material from "Colette" who, of course, is herself.
Wanting to verify the accuracy of the paper, the professor meets Mayday who, without having read the paper, reassures the prof it's all true though "we had to change a few of the names to protect the satisfied." Besides the wittiness of the dialogue, the other joke here is the fact that, in the sitcommy nature of things, Sam hasn't read the paper beyond the title and has no idea Diane paints a portrait of a man who is pathetic, insecure, lonely and a clear case of arrested development.
One of the great delights of the episode is the professor's continual astonishment that Trevor/Sam/Mayday is an actual living, breathing human being. Whether intentional or not, it serves as a little bit of poking at the fourth wall seeing as the chauvinistic, oversexed Mayday is a character who in the real world would have been sued for harassment a thousand times over and/or murdered by a scorned lover for his tomcatting ways.
The prof suggests he hold the next class session at Cheers, an idea Diane is wholeheartedly against. Mayday, of course, is game. "It'd give some of students a chance to see the case study in the living flesh," the professor says, attempting to twist Diane's arm. "Well, I'm not gonna promise that, but we'll see how the evening goes," replies Sam, to thunderous applause from the live studio audience.
Diane reluctantly agrees and pleads with Sam that he read the paper before the class comes over. Obviously, he doesn't read a word of it, so when the class comes in for their meeting, he gathers them around and begins holding a Q & A session on his sexual history and methods, going so far as hitting on one of Diane's classmates in the process. From there, Mayday asks a male student how he approaches women and interrupts the kid once he says he politely asks a girl out and tries to take things slow and let love blossom naturally. ("Ok, now can anyone tell me where Barry here fell off the beam?")
Embarrassed, or perhaps ashamed, Diane puts a halt to the Q & A and speaks with Sam in the office. She reads from her paper, making sure it sinks in to Sam that the portrait painted in her case study is anything but flattering. Rather than get angry, Sam becomes dejected and buys into the argument Diane has made in her paper.
Saddened to see Mayday's feelings hurt, Diane protests that he is capable of having a relationship with a woman without sex serving as an ulterior motive. She uses the two of them as an example of a relationship Sam has with a woman where the friendship is mature, mutual and platonic. "I wish there was some well to prove it to you," Diane says. This, of course, prompts Sam to respond with "Maybe there is... sit on my lap."
Diane, understandably, is hesitant but does agree to the idea and together the two sit and try to have a conversation to prove they are two adults of the opposite sex who can maintain a professional, mature friendship. The cohttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifnversation goes from the weather to vacationing in the sun to the idea of getting sunburnt to preventing sunburn through the rubbing of oil. They change topics to music and then religion, both times ending up speaking in sexual metaphors before quickly agreeing their relationship is clearly platonic.
So why, exactly, did I find this ep so funny? Again, the dialogue is witty and delivered brilliantly. But what I think makes the episode really stand out is the fact that it's 1985 and while the subject matter is mature, the actual dialogue is pretty PG. And as someone who is a fan of modern sitcoms that ere on the raunchy side, I can appreciate the subtlety of the hilarity.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
On 8th Grade, Surrealism, Realism and Adam Sandler
When I was in eighth grade, I broke my leg in three spots by snowboarding in my front yard. It is an infamous story of which every person that went to Carman-Ainsworth Junior High School in 1998 is aware.
To make a long story short, it was kind of a rough several months. I was in a cast up to my thigh and spent several weeks in a wheel chair. This made me popular for a brief moment in time as students would fight over who would push me to my next class (getting dismissed 5 minutes early in the process). I then had a cast put on that went past me knee and used clutches to get around. Eventually a smaller cast was put on me and finally a walking boot. I went through months of physical rehab and eventually had to walk with a cane, which would sometimes get taken from me at lunch by obnoxious assholes who I assume now are all leading miserable existences. :-)
The reason I bring all of this up is because of the fact that I was out of school for two weeks. Again, this was 1998, otherwise known as the heyday of America Online and that magical, trailblazing thing known as the private group chat. From my family's dinning room (where my dad had placed our Compaq computer)I would eagerly sit awkwardly and wait for my friends to get home and get online.
Late at night, I would watch 90% of all Winter Olympics programming while during the day I watched the news (the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal was just developing). Additionally, I spent those two weeks doing something else -- I watched the movie Happy Gilmore in its entirety every single day.
(I also ate a pepperoni Hot Pocket every day, which is why I'm typing this in gym clothes as I struggle everyday to get my BMI to a respectable level, but that's neither here nor there...)
So it is within this context that I hope you can imagine my irrational excitement when Norm has a meeting with a potentinal client whose wife is Grandma Gilmore!
As you can see, Grandma looks practically the same here in 1985 as does in 1996. As the episode progresses, we learn she's playing the wife of a diary farmer, leading to Norm trying in vain connect with the couple. Naturally, Cliff easily makes friends with them and the three leave the bar with Norm having not closed the deal.
Despite playing the wife of a diary farmer, Grandma Gilmore doesn't request a glass of warm milk as she did, so hilariously in 1996:
Back in the summer, as this blog began taking shape, I wrote about the guest appearance by Shooter McGavin, who played a former teammate's of Sam Malone. Thus, we have two principal actors from Happy Gilmore making appearances on Cheers.
Coincidentally, the connections don't stop there as another actor from a 1996 Adam Sandler film stops by Cheers:
This guy, who played Carl in Billy Madison, has an even more minor role than Grandma Gilmore both in the Sandler movies and in their respective cameos on Cheers.
And for those of you keeping score at home, both Grandma Gilmore and Carl had notable roles on Seinfeld . (First one to leave a comment on this post and name who they were on that show will win an imaginary prize!)
Leaving behind the surrealism of seeing people who played a significant role in my life in the mid to late 90's showing up in Cheers episodes that aired when I was 2, I want to lastly talk about realism for a minute.
For nearly four seasons, Cliff Clavin has been seen wearing his uniform at the bar in every non-Halloween inspired episode. Yet in an episode that occurs on a Sunday, Cliff is wearing a plaid shirt and a vest. He makes no mention of not working, but by now everyone realizes he's a mailman, and thus wouldn't be working on Sunday. It's a nice, subtle touch. I appreciate the nod to realism while at the same time, seeing Norm donning a suit on that same Sunday, I can't help but criticize the show's lack of consistency.
Then again, who the hell am I to talk? I just took you from 1998, and the days of AOL, the Lewinsky scandal, and Hot Pockets, to an in-depth discussion of no-name actors to an unrelated discussion of Cliff Clavin's wardrobe. Consistency ain't this blog's bag...
To make a long story short, it was kind of a rough several months. I was in a cast up to my thigh and spent several weeks in a wheel chair. This made me popular for a brief moment in time as students would fight over who would push me to my next class (getting dismissed 5 minutes early in the process). I then had a cast put on that went past me knee and used clutches to get around. Eventually a smaller cast was put on me and finally a walking boot. I went through months of physical rehab and eventually had to walk with a cane, which would sometimes get taken from me at lunch by obnoxious assholes who I assume now are all leading miserable existences. :-)
The reason I bring all of this up is because of the fact that I was out of school for two weeks. Again, this was 1998, otherwise known as the heyday of America Online and that magical, trailblazing thing known as the private group chat. From my family's dinning room (where my dad had placed our Compaq computer)I would eagerly sit awkwardly and wait for my friends to get home and get online.
Late at night, I would watch 90% of all Winter Olympics programming while during the day I watched the news (the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal was just developing). Additionally, I spent those two weeks doing something else -- I watched the movie Happy Gilmore in its entirety every single day.
(I also ate a pepperoni Hot Pocket every day, which is why I'm typing this in gym clothes as I struggle everyday to get my BMI to a respectable level, but that's neither here nor there...)
So it is within this context that I hope you can imagine my irrational excitement when Norm has a meeting with a potentinal client whose wife is Grandma Gilmore!
As you can see, Grandma looks practically the same here in 1985 as does in 1996. As the episode progresses, we learn she's playing the wife of a diary farmer, leading to Norm trying in vain connect with the couple. Naturally, Cliff easily makes friends with them and the three leave the bar with Norm having not closed the deal.Despite playing the wife of a diary farmer, Grandma Gilmore doesn't request a glass of warm milk as she did, so hilariously in 1996:
Back in the summer, as this blog began taking shape, I wrote about the guest appearance by Shooter McGavin, who played a former teammate's of Sam Malone. Thus, we have two principal actors from Happy Gilmore making appearances on Cheers.
Coincidentally, the connections don't stop there as another actor from a 1996 Adam Sandler film stops by Cheers:
This guy, who played Carl in Billy Madison, has an even more minor role than Grandma Gilmore both in the Sandler movies and in their respective cameos on Cheers.
And for those of you keeping score at home, both Grandma Gilmore and Carl had notable roles on Seinfeld . (First one to leave a comment on this post and name who they were on that show will win an imaginary prize!)
Leaving behind the surrealism of seeing people who played a significant role in my life in the mid to late 90's showing up in Cheers episodes that aired when I was 2, I want to lastly talk about realism for a minute.
For nearly four seasons, Cliff Clavin has been seen wearing his uniform at the bar in every non-Halloween inspired episode. Yet in an episode that occurs on a Sunday, Cliff is wearing a plaid shirt and a vest. He makes no mention of not working, but by now everyone realizes he's a mailman, and thus wouldn't be working on Sunday. It's a nice, subtle touch. I appreciate the nod to realism while at the same time, seeing Norm donning a suit on that same Sunday, I can't help but criticize the show's lack of consistency.
Then again, who the hell am I to talk? I just took you from 1998, and the days of AOL, the Lewinsky scandal, and Hot Pockets, to an in-depth discussion of no-name actors to an unrelated discussion of Cliff Clavin's wardrobe. Consistency ain't this blog's bag...
Friday, December 30, 2011
A Few More Words on The Art of Hitting Rock Bottom
It's been over a week since my last post in which I discussed the character of Frasier's seemingly un-organic search for rock bottom. Since that time, I've talked to a few of my friends who read the post while also getting into watching the second half of season four. And because of both those things, I've decided to write a supplemental piece.
I can write all day about rock bottom. The problem, though, is that there isn't a whole lot more to be said about hitting rock bottom through the prism of Frasier Crane as a character in season 4 of Cheers simply because, well, he's been nowhere to be seen.
He spends only a few episodes serving as the maintenance man of the bar. This provides us with a few humorous scenes in which he's sweeping or wiping things down while still dressed in his usual dress shirts and vests. Yet he soon fades away. In fact, he's gone for several episodes (including a landmark episode I will be getting to next week) and is barely even referenced.
These episodes are good, but do little in advancing the love-triangle between Diane, Sam and Fras. Andy Andy, the serial killer Sam set up with Diane back in season one, returns and gets arrested in what seems to be his annual cameo. In an attempt to liven up the place, Diane brings in a mime in one episode, pissing Sam off to no end in the process; leading to the mime also losing his cool and Woody exclaiming "He spoke! It's a miracle!" And the Cheers gang play baseball against cross-town pub, Gary's, in what is the beginning of a rivalry that occurs every year throughout the show's run. Good, decently funny episodes, yes, but nothing applicable to my last post.
Yet the concept of rock bottom applies to the character of Norm in one particular Frasier-less episode. With Sam busy preparing for an interview on local sports radio, the episode focuses on Norm and the allegations that his wife, Vera, is sleeping with his neighbor. The wife of that neighbor is the one to bring Norm the news, which he refuses to believe. Throughout the episode, he reiterates he trusts his wife, even when the neighbor presents evidence that points to the affair being real.
I've said before that Norm Petereson is essentially the second male lead on this show. And this episode supports that with Norm not only being the focus, but also being once again shown in a more realistic, serious light. His torn emotions with the allegations come across as authentic: he talks to Sam, Diane, and his best friend Cliff about the allegations and even pours his heart out to Woody once he begins to believe Vera is cheating on him.
And, as seems to be way of things, the episode solidifies its seriousness with a scene in the pool room, the setting for so many previous serious conversations in the past. Norm and his neighbor's wife share their thoughts on being broken-hearted and kiss one another. Just as this happens, the detective the two hired walks in, disgusted at what he sees. He presents them with audio of the neighbor proposing to Vera they go all in on the affair. Vera, never before heard, says she can't go through with it because she loves Norm.
Now relieved, Norm has another problem on his hands as he's now kissed his neighbor's wife. The reason for me summarizing all of this is to point out how rock bottom can come in different shapes and forms. In what was a serious episode, Norm felt the incredible low of believing his wife has cheated on him. Yet things are more or less tied up at the episode's end in the traditional, cliched sitcomy way.
Additionally, Frasier comes back half-way through the season. He tells Diane he'll be leaving town to go clear his head and then desperately asks Diane to come along. Sam as mentioned previously that Diane drove the Fras mad (presumably explaining his absence), and this seems to come to light with Frasier apologizing to Diane one minute then lashing out at her the next for using incomplete sentences.
It may be too soon to say because I'm not completely finished with season 4, but it seems Frasier may have taken a transformation. He comes across much more like the Frasier I grew up with (which is to say the Frasier from Frasier). He's smug, bitter, at odds with himself. And in his attempts to hang around the bar (simply to spite Diane with his presence), he's hesitant and struggles to relate to the layman, much like he and his brother did for 11 seasons in Seattle.
Nevertheless, as I've said before rock bottom, however it formulates, is something that is universal. Which is why some friends I've spoke with have applauded my playlist of rock bottom songs while others have brought to my attention some glaring commissions (namely, U2's "With or Without You" and the entire Ryan Adams and Elliot Smith catalogs). And the universality of rock bottom is also why this Saturday Night Live skit from a few weeks ago is so great:
Whether your fiancee calls off your wedding, driving you to work as a bar janitor and irrationally exploding at her imperfect grammar or you left work too late for the 100 wings for $0.20 special at T.G.I. Friday's, rock bottom hits us all. And sometimes it can hit hard. And sometimes it lasts in love. Sometimes, though, it hurts instead...
I can write all day about rock bottom. The problem, though, is that there isn't a whole lot more to be said about hitting rock bottom through the prism of Frasier Crane as a character in season 4 of Cheers simply because, well, he's been nowhere to be seen.
He spends only a few episodes serving as the maintenance man of the bar. This provides us with a few humorous scenes in which he's sweeping or wiping things down while still dressed in his usual dress shirts and vests. Yet he soon fades away. In fact, he's gone for several episodes (including a landmark episode I will be getting to next week) and is barely even referenced.
These episodes are good, but do little in advancing the love-triangle between Diane, Sam and Fras. Andy Andy, the serial killer Sam set up with Diane back in season one, returns and gets arrested in what seems to be his annual cameo. In an attempt to liven up the place, Diane brings in a mime in one episode, pissing Sam off to no end in the process; leading to the mime also losing his cool and Woody exclaiming "He spoke! It's a miracle!" And the Cheers gang play baseball against cross-town pub, Gary's, in what is the beginning of a rivalry that occurs every year throughout the show's run. Good, decently funny episodes, yes, but nothing applicable to my last post.
Yet the concept of rock bottom applies to the character of Norm in one particular Frasier-less episode. With Sam busy preparing for an interview on local sports radio, the episode focuses on Norm and the allegations that his wife, Vera, is sleeping with his neighbor. The wife of that neighbor is the one to bring Norm the news, which he refuses to believe. Throughout the episode, he reiterates he trusts his wife, even when the neighbor presents evidence that points to the affair being real.
I've said before that Norm Petereson is essentially the second male lead on this show. And this episode supports that with Norm not only being the focus, but also being once again shown in a more realistic, serious light. His torn emotions with the allegations come across as authentic: he talks to Sam, Diane, and his best friend Cliff about the allegations and even pours his heart out to Woody once he begins to believe Vera is cheating on him.
And, as seems to be way of things, the episode solidifies its seriousness with a scene in the pool room, the setting for so many previous serious conversations in the past. Norm and his neighbor's wife share their thoughts on being broken-hearted and kiss one another. Just as this happens, the detective the two hired walks in, disgusted at what he sees. He presents them with audio of the neighbor proposing to Vera they go all in on the affair. Vera, never before heard, says she can't go through with it because she loves Norm.
Now relieved, Norm has another problem on his hands as he's now kissed his neighbor's wife. The reason for me summarizing all of this is to point out how rock bottom can come in different shapes and forms. In what was a serious episode, Norm felt the incredible low of believing his wife has cheated on him. Yet things are more or less tied up at the episode's end in the traditional, cliched sitcomy way.
Additionally, Frasier comes back half-way through the season. He tells Diane he'll be leaving town to go clear his head and then desperately asks Diane to come along. Sam as mentioned previously that Diane drove the Fras mad (presumably explaining his absence), and this seems to come to light with Frasier apologizing to Diane one minute then lashing out at her the next for using incomplete sentences.
It may be too soon to say because I'm not completely finished with season 4, but it seems Frasier may have taken a transformation. He comes across much more like the Frasier I grew up with (which is to say the Frasier from Frasier). He's smug, bitter, at odds with himself. And in his attempts to hang around the bar (simply to spite Diane with his presence), he's hesitant and struggles to relate to the layman, much like he and his brother did for 11 seasons in Seattle.
Nevertheless, as I've said before rock bottom, however it formulates, is something that is universal. Which is why some friends I've spoke with have applauded my playlist of rock bottom songs while others have brought to my attention some glaring commissions (namely, U2's "With or Without You" and the entire Ryan Adams and Elliot Smith catalogs). And the universality of rock bottom is also why this Saturday Night Live skit from a few weeks ago is so great:
Whether your fiancee calls off your wedding, driving you to work as a bar janitor and irrationally exploding at her imperfect grammar or you left work too late for the 100 wings for $0.20 special at T.G.I. Friday's, rock bottom hits us all. And sometimes it can hit hard. And sometimes it lasts in love. Sometimes, though, it hurts instead...
Saturday, December 17, 2011
The Art of Hitting Rock Bottom
As has become tradition in this space, I'll begin this post like most others by offering an explanation for the lack of regular updates. This time, however, the reasoning is a bit different. I've had the time to write this post and to be honest, I've had a lot of it written in my head or on my nearly filled legal pad I've been using for note-taking while watching Cheers.
Yet, I've been reluctant to write (and finish) this post because the idea of what I want it to be keeps evolving in my mind. At any rate, let's start at the genesis of the idea which is this: Cheers, season 4, episode 2. Frasier Crane, who just one episode ago pulled a piece out on Sam, has now amassed a bar tab topping $500. He's down for having lost Diane, and he's trying his best to be both down and out. He doesn't only want to drink his sadness away, he wants to be seen drinking his sadness away. He wants to be a depressed, pathetic drunk. The goal, he admits to Sam, is to fall from grace and hit rock bottom.
The irony of course is that Frasier's downward spiral at the start of season 4 mirrors Sam's at the start of season 3. (Which I wrote about .) The difference, it seems, is that Mayday's fall from grace was authentic. He fell off thehttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif wagon, began boozing and became a horrible bar owner and manager, sleeping with every new waitress he hired and alienating most of his employees and customers in the process. With Frasier, rock bottom isn't so much as the location but as the destination. He wants to get there. And he wants it to be known he's there.
And that's fine. But what Frasier's aiming for here isn't rock bottom -- or at least it's not a real rock bottom. Rather, it's something that feels like rock bottom, feels like the worst emotional pain and torment imaginable. It's that pit of despair, that bout of depression, we all go through in life.
This is the very reason I've had trouble finishing this post-- Frasier's pursuit of rock bottom is so universal Sometimes it lasts a day or two, sometimes it drags on. Sometimes no one else notices, sometimes it seems as if the whole world is aware. The pain, the sorrow (whatever words you want to use, because we all have our own way of verbalizing these times in our lives) is indeed serious, but not as always as severe as we make it out to be.
There's a plethora of examples from movies and TV shows where a character goes off the deep in, so to speak. Yet a clear cut example, and one often quoted amongst my close knit group of BFFs, is Owen Wilson's character in Wedding Crashers:
The above, to me, is similar to Frasier's rock bottom in that depression is real (as may even be the suicidal thoughts), but the person's life and world is otherwise in tact and sound. Obviously being heartbroken from losing a girlfriend/fiance/what-have-you isn't the only way a person hits rock bottom. Death is another, more serious, way. And TV provides us with a perfect example of what I'm speaking of with season 4 of another NBC Thursday night sitcom, Scrubs:
These scenes with JD's brother, Dan, spending his days following his dad's death in a bathtub are no doubt meant to be funny (and they are). But there's a scene of realism to it as well. Anyone who's lost a loved one or even been severely heartbroken by the end of a relationship knows that feeling of wanting to stay in bed for days on end. Or in some cases stay in a bathtub drinking room temp Budweisers.
Sometimes being at rock bottom comes out of hopelessness -- not knowing what to do or where to turn, thus the lying in bed or a bathtub. Other times rock bottom serves as a last stand-- a final attempt to lay it all on the line and win back everything lost. Ironically, Zach Braff provides us with an example of this with the extremely underrated film The Last Kiss:
As you can see in the video above, Zach Braff's character has vowed to not leave the porch of the home he shares with his girlfriend until she takes him back. Interestingly, his girlfriend has hit her own rock bottom, we learn, as she explains the pain she felt when saying goodbye to her dying grandma is the same pain she's feeling in saying goodbye to her relationship. The dialogue in this scene, to me, is just fantastic because it's very, very realistic.
This is another reason I found difficulty in finishing this post because some of these examples are beginning to hit a little too close to home for me. Despite pointing that out, I should say that I'm going to deliberately not get personal here with this post. Granted the whole point of this blog was for me to record and relate my experience of going through every single episode of one of America's beloved sitcoms, and by that goal alone I could easily justify going into my own feelings. But this, like the show Cheers itself, is for everyone to read and share. This space is not a diary, never will be.
Sometimes ending a relationship can feel like mourning the loss of a loved one. That seems crazy and foolish until you experience it for yourself. And there's an added guilt that goes along with those feelings because you hate yourself for going through a mourning that shouldn't be as serious as a real, actual death. But sometimes that's how we function as humans.
And it's from that fragile, sometimes irrational, emotional state that we derive at rock bottom. In Frasier's case, rock bottom is running up a $500 bar tab and beginning the man who may or may not be in direct competition with him for the love his life to hire him as a janitor to repay his debts. In Owen Wilson's case, it's crashing weddings, and funerals, while coming home to a trashed apartment and reading don't kill myself books.
So with the above in mind, and because Christmas is just around the corner, let me end this post with my suggestions for a playlist to which you can listen to while sitting in a bathtub, be it drinking in a disgusting, lukewarm pool of water or fully clothed in an argyle sweater.
Coldplay - "The Scientist"
Warning: Coldplay's going to show up on this list a lot. I can't help it, so many of their songs are brilliantly depressing. That's why Zach Braff chose their song "Warning Song" for the aforementioned scene in The Last Kiss.
Here with "Scientist," the lyrics are just as emotionally charged and vivid. Plus when I was a freshman in college, I thought the video was the greatest thing ever made.
Best/most depressing line: "No one ever said it would be this hard. / Oh, take me back to the start."
Dave Matthews - "Stay or Leave"
In 2003, Dave Matthews released his first and only solo album with this song being one of the highlights. Of the many live versions hanging around YouTube, I went with the Live at Radio City version because it features some great acoustic guitar work by Tim Reynolds.
Best/most depressing line: "Remember we used to dance and everyone wanted to be you and me... I want to be, too."
Adele - "Someone Like You"
Obviously the go-to hanging-on-by-a-thread/rock bottom song of the moment.
Best/most depressing line: "I hoped that you'd see my face and be reminded that, for me, it isn't over."
The Verve - "The Drugs Don't Work"
A fantastic song by a fantastic band. 1997's Urban Hymns is one of the greatest albums ever and this song is one of the reasons why.
Best/most depressing line: "I hope you're thinking of me as you lay down on your side because the drugs don't work, they just make you worse, but I know I'll see your face again."
Travis - "Writing To Reach You"
Speaking of all time great albums, 2000's The Man Who by Travis deserves to be mentioned. Just yesterday, I cited this as one of the greatest sophomore albums by a band ever. This song is one of the reasons why.
Best/most depressing line: "It's good to know that you are home for Christmas. It's good to know that you are doing well. It's good to know that you are no longer hurting. It's good to know I'm feeling not so well."
Coldplay - "Violet Hill"
Another great, depressing song from Coldplay. Rather than post all the others that could go on this playlist, I'll just list a few of them: "What If?", "Trouble", Lost?", and "X & Y."
Best/most depressing line: "If you loved me, why'd you let me go?"
Counting Crows - "A Long December"
A fitting song for sitting in your bathtub while wearing you're best argyle, yet it's a good (depressing) song to listen to any time of the year.
Best/most depressing line: "I guess the winter makes you laugh a little slower / Makes you talk a little lower about the things you could not show her."
Young The Giant - "Cough Syrup"
A newer band that I've recently gotten into. This is definitely one of their best songs and goes along well with the others. I mean, how couldn't it, the song begins with the line "Life's too short to even care at all..."
Best/most depressing line: "If I could find a way to see this straight, I'd run to some fortune that I should have found by now."
Audioslave - "Like A Stone"
A great band who, much like The Verve, created a lot of fantastic music in only a few short years. But of course Chris Cornell, as he's wont to do, had to let his ego get in the way and ruin everything...
Best/most depressing line: "I confess I was lost in the pages / of a book, full of death / reading I would die alone."
Stereophonics - "Since I Told You It's Over"
Truth be told, I somehow forgot about this sing when I first published this post last night. And I'm kicking myself for that because if there was ever a song that perfectly sums out the emotions one feels when hitting rock bottom, it is this.
Best/most depressing line: "You can't tell me this now, it's too far down the line / that you're never, ever gonna get over me."
Red Hot Chili Peppers - Brendan's Death Song"
The first time I heard this song, I listened to it three times in a row. The lyrics are beautiful and touching while Chad Smith's drum work is phenomenal. A great song for any playlist, but it certainly fits here.
Best/most depressing line: "Like I said you know I'm almost dead, I'm almost gone. And when the drummer drums, he's gonna play my song to carry me along."
U2 - "One"
Far and away the greatest rock bottom song ever. It baffles me that, to this day, some people have chosen this for a wedding song! It's not a love song, far from it. But what it is is, well, brilliant.
Best/most depressing line: "And I can't be holding on to what you've got when all you've got his hurt."
Yet, I've been reluctant to write (and finish) this post because the idea of what I want it to be keeps evolving in my mind. At any rate, let's start at the genesis of the idea which is this: Cheers, season 4, episode 2. Frasier Crane, who just one episode ago pulled a piece out on Sam, has now amassed a bar tab topping $500. He's down for having lost Diane, and he's trying his best to be both down and out. He doesn't only want to drink his sadness away, he wants to be seen drinking his sadness away. He wants to be a depressed, pathetic drunk. The goal, he admits to Sam, is to fall from grace and hit rock bottom.
The irony of course is that Frasier's downward spiral at the start of season 4 mirrors Sam's at the start of season 3. (Which I wrote about .) The difference, it seems, is that Mayday's fall from grace was authentic. He fell off thehttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif wagon, began boozing and became a horrible bar owner and manager, sleeping with every new waitress he hired and alienating most of his employees and customers in the process. With Frasier, rock bottom isn't so much as the location but as the destination. He wants to get there. And he wants it to be known he's there.
And that's fine. But what Frasier's aiming for here isn't rock bottom -- or at least it's not a real rock bottom. Rather, it's something that feels like rock bottom, feels like the worst emotional pain and torment imaginable. It's that pit of despair, that bout of depression, we all go through in life.
This is the very reason I've had trouble finishing this post-- Frasier's pursuit of rock bottom is so universal Sometimes it lasts a day or two, sometimes it drags on. Sometimes no one else notices, sometimes it seems as if the whole world is aware. The pain, the sorrow (whatever words you want to use, because we all have our own way of verbalizing these times in our lives) is indeed serious, but not as always as severe as we make it out to be.
There's a plethora of examples from movies and TV shows where a character goes off the deep in, so to speak. Yet a clear cut example, and one often quoted amongst my close knit group of BFFs, is Owen Wilson's character in Wedding Crashers:
The above, to me, is similar to Frasier's rock bottom in that depression is real (as may even be the suicidal thoughts), but the person's life and world is otherwise in tact and sound. Obviously being heartbroken from losing a girlfriend/fiance/what-have-you isn't the only way a person hits rock bottom. Death is another, more serious, way. And TV provides us with a perfect example of what I'm speaking of with season 4 of another NBC Thursday night sitcom, Scrubs:
These scenes with JD's brother, Dan, spending his days following his dad's death in a bathtub are no doubt meant to be funny (and they are). But there's a scene of realism to it as well. Anyone who's lost a loved one or even been severely heartbroken by the end of a relationship knows that feeling of wanting to stay in bed for days on end. Or in some cases stay in a bathtub drinking room temp Budweisers.
Sometimes being at rock bottom comes out of hopelessness -- not knowing what to do or where to turn, thus the lying in bed or a bathtub. Other times rock bottom serves as a last stand-- a final attempt to lay it all on the line and win back everything lost. Ironically, Zach Braff provides us with an example of this with the extremely underrated film The Last Kiss:
As you can see in the video above, Zach Braff's character has vowed to not leave the porch of the home he shares with his girlfriend until she takes him back. Interestingly, his girlfriend has hit her own rock bottom, we learn, as she explains the pain she felt when saying goodbye to her dying grandma is the same pain she's feeling in saying goodbye to her relationship. The dialogue in this scene, to me, is just fantastic because it's very, very realistic.
This is another reason I found difficulty in finishing this post because some of these examples are beginning to hit a little too close to home for me. Despite pointing that out, I should say that I'm going to deliberately not get personal here with this post. Granted the whole point of this blog was for me to record and relate my experience of going through every single episode of one of America's beloved sitcoms, and by that goal alone I could easily justify going into my own feelings. But this, like the show Cheers itself, is for everyone to read and share. This space is not a diary, never will be.
Sometimes ending a relationship can feel like mourning the loss of a loved one. That seems crazy and foolish until you experience it for yourself. And there's an added guilt that goes along with those feelings because you hate yourself for going through a mourning that shouldn't be as serious as a real, actual death. But sometimes that's how we function as humans.
And it's from that fragile, sometimes irrational, emotional state that we derive at rock bottom. In Frasier's case, rock bottom is running up a $500 bar tab and beginning the man who may or may not be in direct competition with him for the love his life to hire him as a janitor to repay his debts. In Owen Wilson's case, it's crashing weddings, and funerals, while coming home to a trashed apartment and reading don't kill myself books.
So with the above in mind, and because Christmas is just around the corner, let me end this post with my suggestions for a playlist to which you can listen to while sitting in a bathtub, be it drinking in a disgusting, lukewarm pool of water or fully clothed in an argyle sweater.
Coldplay - "The Scientist"
Warning: Coldplay's going to show up on this list a lot. I can't help it, so many of their songs are brilliantly depressing. That's why Zach Braff chose their song "Warning Song" for the aforementioned scene in The Last Kiss.
Here with "Scientist," the lyrics are just as emotionally charged and vivid. Plus when I was a freshman in college, I thought the video was the greatest thing ever made.
Best/most depressing line: "No one ever said it would be this hard. / Oh, take me back to the start."
Dave Matthews - "Stay or Leave"
In 2003, Dave Matthews released his first and only solo album with this song being one of the highlights. Of the many live versions hanging around YouTube, I went with the Live at Radio City version because it features some great acoustic guitar work by Tim Reynolds.
Best/most depressing line: "Remember we used to dance and everyone wanted to be you and me... I want to be, too."
Adele - "Someone Like You"
Obviously the go-to hanging-on-by-a-thread/rock bottom song of the moment.
Best/most depressing line: "I hoped that you'd see my face and be reminded that, for me, it isn't over."
The Verve - "The Drugs Don't Work"
A fantastic song by a fantastic band. 1997's Urban Hymns is one of the greatest albums ever and this song is one of the reasons why.
Best/most depressing line: "I hope you're thinking of me as you lay down on your side because the drugs don't work, they just make you worse, but I know I'll see your face again."
Travis - "Writing To Reach You"
Speaking of all time great albums, 2000's The Man Who by Travis deserves to be mentioned. Just yesterday, I cited this as one of the greatest sophomore albums by a band ever. This song is one of the reasons why.
Best/most depressing line: "It's good to know that you are home for Christmas. It's good to know that you are doing well. It's good to know that you are no longer hurting. It's good to know I'm feeling not so well."
Coldplay - "Violet Hill"
Another great, depressing song from Coldplay. Rather than post all the others that could go on this playlist, I'll just list a few of them: "What If?", "Trouble", Lost?", and "X & Y."
Best/most depressing line: "If you loved me, why'd you let me go?"
Counting Crows - "A Long December"
A fitting song for sitting in your bathtub while wearing you're best argyle, yet it's a good (depressing) song to listen to any time of the year.
Best/most depressing line: "I guess the winter makes you laugh a little slower / Makes you talk a little lower about the things you could not show her."
Young The Giant - "Cough Syrup"
A newer band that I've recently gotten into. This is definitely one of their best songs and goes along well with the others. I mean, how couldn't it, the song begins with the line "Life's too short to even care at all..."
Best/most depressing line: "If I could find a way to see this straight, I'd run to some fortune that I should have found by now."
Audioslave - "Like A Stone"
A great band who, much like The Verve, created a lot of fantastic music in only a few short years. But of course Chris Cornell, as he's wont to do, had to let his ego get in the way and ruin everything...
Best/most depressing line: "I confess I was lost in the pages / of a book, full of death / reading I would die alone."
Stereophonics - "Since I Told You It's Over"
Truth be told, I somehow forgot about this sing when I first published this post last night. And I'm kicking myself for that because if there was ever a song that perfectly sums out the emotions one feels when hitting rock bottom, it is this.
Best/most depressing line: "You can't tell me this now, it's too far down the line / that you're never, ever gonna get over me."
Red Hot Chili Peppers - Brendan's Death Song"
The first time I heard this song, I listened to it three times in a row. The lyrics are beautiful and touching while Chad Smith's drum work is phenomenal. A great song for any playlist, but it certainly fits here.
Best/most depressing line: "Like I said you know I'm almost dead, I'm almost gone. And when the drummer drums, he's gonna play my song to carry me along."
U2 - "One"
Far and away the greatest rock bottom song ever. It baffles me that, to this day, some people have chosen this for a wedding song! It's not a love song, far from it. But what it is is, well, brilliant.
Best/most depressing line: "And I can't be holding on to what you've got when all you've got his hurt."
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Boston, Say Hello to Woody Boyd; Sam, Say Hello to Frasier Crane's Little Friend
As I've brought up numerous times, the major change on Cheers was Shelley Long leaving the show, with Kirstie Alley replacing her. The other change, as mentioned here before, was the addition of Woody Harrelson to the cast, replacing The Coach as the bar's main bartender and the show's resident dumbass.
Amidst the Sam, Diane and Frasier love triangle drama, Woody Boyd, a bright-eyed country boy from Indiana, walks into Cheers looking for Coach. Sam gives Woody -- and the audience -- the unfortunate news about the Coach's death. Woody explains he and Coach were pen pals, exchanging not letters but actual pens and the Sam pretty much hires the kid on the spot.
Not long after putting on his bartender's apron, Woody is met with his first rude customer, none other than Frasier Crane. With that wide, Midwestern smile, Woody asks this stranger "What'll it be?". To this Frasier, stern and collousing, replies "Just give me a whiskey, punk." He downs his shot and, just as coldly, asks "Where's Malone?"
Frasier finds Sam in his office and pulls a gun on Mayday. Much like Sam at the beginning of season 3, Frasier has gone off the deep in thanks to Diane's breaking his heart. But rather than turning to booze as Sam did, Frasier simply wants the man he blames for his trouble to be shot dead.
Even though Sam flew to Italy and ended up breaking into the wrong mansion in an attempt to stop the ceremony, the gesture was moot as Frasier explains Diane backed out of the wedding. Sam tries to get Frasier to calm down and realize Sam hasn't even spoken to Diane since the wedding-that-wasn't. Frasier eventually stops aim the pistol and goes from pissed to emo and has a heart-to-heart with Sam about his love for Diane. Having had to get over Diane himself, Mayday tries offering words of encouragement to Dr. Crane, resulting in this hilarious exchange:
Frasier: "I'll forget about her when the moon turns to ashes and the birds sing nevermore."
Sam: "Hey, there you go!"
Diane, meanwhile, has begun working in a nunnery, helping the sisters fold laundry and do other housekeeping things because, apparently, her years of post-graduate work have given her the ability to do little besides minimum wage labor whether it be in a bar or convent.
Even though Sam failed in his chance to be a hero and stop Diane's wedding to Frasier, he still has a chance, it seems. Naturally, he sneaks up on Diane, causing her to curse. A nun comes into the scene and Sam hides. She leaves and Diane convinces him to leave so she won't get into trouble. Diane goes on to ask the Almighty for sign on what to do with her love life and, right on cue, Mayday comes back into the shot looking for the john. Diane, naturally, looks up to God and sarcastically states, "Well, it's not the parting of the Red Sea..." And with that, the season 4 premiere comes to a close.
Not to be harking on Diane too much, but isn't it odd that season 3 begins with her seeking mental therapy (or as Sam, and 1980s society constantly refers to it, the "looney bin") and season 4 begins with in a similar physical place and mental state of mind? Had Cheers been a modern day sitcom, perhaps Diane's backstory would be coming to light at about this point in the series. She seems to have some deeply rooted issues with her parents that have caused her to not handle difficult situations without running away from them and seeking help from people older than her.
But hey, I'm no psychiatrist. Speaking of psychiatrists, Frasier's failed attempted murder attempt on Sam was just the beginning of his downward spiral. Tune in next time on "Every Episode of Cheers" to find out what happens next...
Amidst the Sam, Diane and Frasier love triangle drama, Woody Boyd, a bright-eyed country boy from Indiana, walks into Cheers looking for Coach. Sam gives Woody -- and the audience -- the unfortunate news about the Coach's death. Woody explains he and Coach were pen pals, exchanging not letters but actual pens and the Sam pretty much hires the kid on the spot.
Not long after putting on his bartender's apron, Woody is met with his first rude customer, none other than Frasier Crane. With that wide, Midwestern smile, Woody asks this stranger "What'll it be?". To this Frasier, stern and collousing, replies "Just give me a whiskey, punk." He downs his shot and, just as coldly, asks "Where's Malone?"
Frasier finds Sam in his office and pulls a gun on Mayday. Much like Sam at the beginning of season 3, Frasier has gone off the deep in thanks to Diane's breaking his heart. But rather than turning to booze as Sam did, Frasier simply wants the man he blames for his trouble to be shot dead.
Even though Sam flew to Italy and ended up breaking into the wrong mansion in an attempt to stop the ceremony, the gesture was moot as Frasier explains Diane backed out of the wedding. Sam tries to get Frasier to calm down and realize Sam hasn't even spoken to Diane since the wedding-that-wasn't. Frasier eventually stops aim the pistol and goes from pissed to emo and has a heart-to-heart with Sam about his love for Diane. Having had to get over Diane himself, Mayday tries offering words of encouragement to Dr. Crane, resulting in this hilarious exchange:
Frasier: "I'll forget about her when the moon turns to ashes and the birds sing nevermore."
Sam: "Hey, there you go!"
Diane, meanwhile, has begun working in a nunnery, helping the sisters fold laundry and do other housekeeping things because, apparently, her years of post-graduate work have given her the ability to do little besides minimum wage labor whether it be in a bar or convent.
Even though Sam failed in his chance to be a hero and stop Diane's wedding to Frasier, he still has a chance, it seems. Naturally, he sneaks up on Diane, causing her to curse. A nun comes into the scene and Sam hides. She leaves and Diane convinces him to leave so she won't get into trouble. Diane goes on to ask the Almighty for sign on what to do with her love life and, right on cue, Mayday comes back into the shot looking for the john. Diane, naturally, looks up to God and sarcastically states, "Well, it's not the parting of the Red Sea..." And with that, the season 4 premiere comes to a close.
Not to be harking on Diane too much, but isn't it odd that season 3 begins with her seeking mental therapy (or as Sam, and 1980s society constantly refers to it, the "looney bin") and season 4 begins with in a similar physical place and mental state of mind? Had Cheers been a modern day sitcom, perhaps Diane's backstory would be coming to light at about this point in the series. She seems to have some deeply rooted issues with her parents that have caused her to not handle difficult situations without running away from them and seeking help from people older than her.
But hey, I'm no psychiatrist. Speaking of psychiatrists, Frasier's failed attempted murder attempt on Sam was just the beginning of his downward spiral. Tune in next time on "Every Episode of Cheers" to find out what happens next...
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Season 4 Begins, Season 3 Ends, and This Blog Begins Again (...Again)
At this point it's a bit pointless to keep beginning my blog posts with an apology for not blogging more regularly. That said, I'm sorry for the extended hiatus from this blog. As is the case every fall, nearly all my reading and writing activities are devoted solely to my job as college English instructor. For that, I make no apology.
But I do apologize for not writing about the end of Season 3 as I watched it. The truth is, it hit a little close to home as I watched Mayday go out on a limb and roll the dice on winning over Diane.
You see, the premise was this: Diane was in Italy (with Frasier, of course) yet still had feelings for Sam. How could she not when she spent several episodes talking to Sam non-stop from her hotel room telephone?
And once she told Sam that Frasier has popped the question, she gauged his reaction as if her own acceptance (better yet, acquiescence) of marrying Frasier hinged on Sam's own motivations and intentions. As we get to the actual season finale, it becomes increasing clear Mayday is still "carrying a little torch" for Ms. Chambers.
But of course everyone, both the other characters and we audience, knew this all along. As Mayday begins to talk himself into taking off for Italia, everyone else tries to talk him out of it. As Norm sarcastically quips, "Now let me see if I can this straight, Carla. You think Diane is wrong for Sam?"
From there, the episode dates itself by having Sam rely on Cliff's travel agent friend in getting info on a last minute ticket to Italy. Furthermore, Diane is later seen calling Sam from a payphone with the hopes that he can't answer because he's on his way to disrupt the wedding. As I mentioned in a previous post, Sam (after some difficulty) installed an answering machine due to all his phone calls from Diane. This, of course, is unbeknownst to Diane so when she hears "Hi, this is Sam Malone" on the other line, she immediately hangs up and reveals her sadness to the audience but puts on a happy face for Frasier.
The irony (again, of course) is that Sam is indeed on his way to stop the wedding. This final scene of the season is where I applaud Cheers as the season comes to close with drama between Sam and Diane, but ends on a cliffhanger, unlike the previous two seasons. Plus, the stakes here are clearly higher, both for these characters and the show itself.
The very beginning of the first episode of Season 4 begins with Sam interrupting the wedding. As you can see in the photo above, Mayday is dressed to impressed with a burgundy blazer worn over a checkered button-down shirt and blue jeans. Fashion aside, it's a great scene because Sam puts his heart out on his sleeve and puts it all on the line for Diane. She's not only flattered, she's won over and lets her ex-lover/ex-boss sweep her off her feet and carry her back to Boston.
It's great dialogue (as there always is between S and D) and great writing in general. But, of course, it's all a dream. Sam is only a chivalrous hero in his mind while in reality he rushes from the flight to the villa where in the wedding is held only to be hours late. This is something I'm all to familiar with as I wrote a yet to be published novel entitled Greatness Escapes, which is taken from the inner monologue of my protagonist who laments that he's never able to be in real life the guy he is in his mind. Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to speak of my own brilliance or anything like that, but isn't this a very universal theme? Don't we all fail to live up to what we want for ourselves?
Obviously I think the answer is yes. Cheers is often referred to as being if not the greatest sitcom in history, the show with the greatest cast of all time. Why is this the case? Because Cheers is a bar we want to be at. Norm is a lovable failure we want as a friend. We want our ear to be talked off by the annoying, yet enduring Cliff Clavin. We relate to these characters. That's why the show worked so well. It's universal.
And seeing the smooth, cool, and suave Mayday Malone try his best and lose makes him a bit more human. A bit more real. When we care about a character, we feel for that character.And at the end of the day, that's what makes this show so great when it's on it's A-game. (Even, if my consistency with this blog has been anything but as of late...)
But I do apologize for not writing about the end of Season 3 as I watched it. The truth is, it hit a little close to home as I watched Mayday go out on a limb and roll the dice on winning over Diane.
You see, the premise was this: Diane was in Italy (with Frasier, of course) yet still had feelings for Sam. How could she not when she spent several episodes talking to Sam non-stop from her hotel room telephone?
And once she told Sam that Frasier has popped the question, she gauged his reaction as if her own acceptance (better yet, acquiescence) of marrying Frasier hinged on Sam's own motivations and intentions. As we get to the actual season finale, it becomes increasing clear Mayday is still "carrying a little torch" for Ms. Chambers.
But of course everyone, both the other characters and we audience, knew this all along. As Mayday begins to talk himself into taking off for Italia, everyone else tries to talk him out of it. As Norm sarcastically quips, "Now let me see if I can this straight, Carla. You think Diane is wrong for Sam?"
From there, the episode dates itself by having Sam rely on Cliff's travel agent friend in getting info on a last minute ticket to Italy. Furthermore, Diane is later seen calling Sam from a payphone with the hopes that he can't answer because he's on his way to disrupt the wedding. As I mentioned in a previous post, Sam (after some difficulty) installed an answering machine due to all his phone calls from Diane. This, of course, is unbeknownst to Diane so when she hears "Hi, this is Sam Malone" on the other line, she immediately hangs up and reveals her sadness to the audience but puts on a happy face for Frasier.
The irony (again, of course) is that Sam is indeed on his way to stop the wedding. This final scene of the season is where I applaud Cheers as the season comes to close with drama between Sam and Diane, but ends on a cliffhanger, unlike the previous two seasons. Plus, the stakes here are clearly higher, both for these characters and the show itself.
The very beginning of the first episode of Season 4 begins with Sam interrupting the wedding. As you can see in the photo above, Mayday is dressed to impressed with a burgundy blazer worn over a checkered button-down shirt and blue jeans. Fashion aside, it's a great scene because Sam puts his heart out on his sleeve and puts it all on the line for Diane. She's not only flattered, she's won over and lets her ex-lover/ex-boss sweep her off her feet and carry her back to Boston.
It's great dialogue (as there always is between S and D) and great writing in general. But, of course, it's all a dream. Sam is only a chivalrous hero in his mind while in reality he rushes from the flight to the villa where in the wedding is held only to be hours late. This is something I'm all to familiar with as I wrote a yet to be published novel entitled Greatness Escapes, which is taken from the inner monologue of my protagonist who laments that he's never able to be in real life the guy he is in his mind. Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to speak of my own brilliance or anything like that, but isn't this a very universal theme? Don't we all fail to live up to what we want for ourselves?
Obviously I think the answer is yes. Cheers is often referred to as being if not the greatest sitcom in history, the show with the greatest cast of all time. Why is this the case? Because Cheers is a bar we want to be at. Norm is a lovable failure we want as a friend. We want our ear to be talked off by the annoying, yet enduring Cliff Clavin. We relate to these characters. That's why the show worked so well. It's universal.
And seeing the smooth, cool, and suave Mayday Malone try his best and lose makes him a bit more human. A bit more real. When we care about a character, we feel for that character.And at the end of the day, that's what makes this show so great when it's on it's A-game. (Even, if my consistency with this blog has been anything but as of late...)
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