Showing posts with label tomcatting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tomcatting. Show all posts

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.

Monday, August 15, 2011

Mayday Malone: Off the Wagon, Back on the Sauce

Two phrases I use quite often (both on the blog and in everyday conversation) are tomcatting and hound-dogging. These two words are verbs, actions. When one is tomcatting, they are in the act of being a tomcat, for instance. The difference between tomcatting and hounddogging is that a tomcat is a playboy (or ladies man or whatever phrase you want to use), yet the actions of a tomcat are for the most part respectful and innocent. When one is out tomcatting, he's looking to hook up with chicks (or dudes; if there can be female tomcats, there certainly can be gay tomcats) but the target of a tomcat knows what she/he is getting into. Both people realize what the situation is -- there are no broken hearts with a tomcat.

A hound dog, on the other hand, is less gentlemanly than a tomcat. A hound dog doesn't know when to give up. He pushes and pushes his agenda to the point of being creepy. Or he comes across as embarrassing, making those around him uncomfortable with his actions, whether or not they are the target of his sights.


And, ladies and gentlemen, the Sam "Mayday" Malone we are introduced to at the start of season 3 is a hound dog. He's unruly, unshaven, and going out at all hours of the night, picking up -- and presumably having his way with -- a great deal of women. But most importantly, he's back on the sauce.

In the scene from which the photo above comes from, Mayday comes bursting into Cheers during the middle of the day with two baton twirlers around his arms. (He explains that he picked them up from a parade earlier in the day.) As you can see, he's got a five o'clock shadow, is wearing a poorly tied neck tie, and wearing a hat. In other words, this is what a recovering alcoholic who has fallen off the wagon looks like in 1984.

What's more, in the picture above, Mayday is the spitting image of what a hound dog is -- a man (or woman) whose selfish, womanizing ways are hurting the ones around him. Coach is the man who got Mayday to seek help years ago for his alcoholism. And we find out Carla is ragged and tired after working night after night as the only waitress because Sam keeps hiring waitresses to replace Diane (who quit in the season 2 finale) but these replacements themselves keep quitting because Mayday bangs 'em and leaves 'em. In fact, he's hired 8 women to replace Diane and (according to Carla), Mayday had his way with all of them and it's six months later and she's still without a fellow waitress to work beside her.

And on this particular afternoon, Sam has brought these two showgals to the bar because they didn't believed he owned one. Coach confirms he owns Cheers and the ladies are impressed. So, naturally, Sam takes them back to his office saying as they walk "It's time for the halftime show at the Sammy Dome!" (Of, that Sam!)

Coach is brokenhearted to see Sam back to being his old self, so he goes to Diane's apartment to get her help. What he doesn't know, however, is that Diane has had some difficulties of her own as we see Diane and her mother's chauffeur bringing in luggage after her extended stay in therapy. Reluctantly, Diane agrees to help Sam even if it means going back to the Cheers bar she vowed to never return to while in therapy.

The next day, Mayday comes into work and heads into his office. As he enters the door, the audience sees several customers standing and sitting at nearby tables. And, since I have the luxury of hindsight as I watch these episodes, I know something is afoot because one such customer is Kelsey Grammar in a three piece suit.

Coach, Carla, Norm and Cliff discuss Mayday's downfall, debating whether or not they must intervene and moments later, Sam returns from his office, asking Coach what day of the week it is.

"Friday," Coach answers.

"Well that's it for me. Goodbye, everybody," Sam declares as he grabs a fifth of vodka and heads for the door.

But that's not it for Mayday. No, far from it, as Diane walks in and stops him in his tracks. The two discuss life since they broke they broke up and eventually the conversation turns to Sam's boozing. He denies being a drunk to Diane and asks Norm and company to vouch for him; they don't.

"When you try to be a good time drunk, you really find out who your friends are," Mayday declares.

Diane tries reasoning with Sam, asking him if he'll at listen to her friend she met while in therapy. Reluctantly, Mayday agrees to here the guy out, prompting Frasier, now seated next to Cliff at the bar to extend his hand and say hello to Sam. Mayday, naturally, jumps at being startled and accuses Diane of running a sting operation.

While I got more than a few laughs at this episodes writing (ie the dialogue I quoted in this post) and at the way Ted Danson played Sam Malone as a down and out drunk, I'm not sure how long I want this off-the-wagon version of Mayday to last. It's intriguing, for sure, but having the lead character of a sitcom outwardly expressing signs of out of control alcoholism won't be entertaining for too long...



Thursday, July 7, 2011

Diane Chambers, The Total Package?

In episode 11 (“One for the Book”), the Cheers gang are joined by two out of the ordinary patrons, a World War I (yes, you read that correctly, World War One, as in Uno, as in Yes, the first one) vet whose hosting a reunion for his platoon in the back pool room and a young man who has stumbled upon the bar and is looking to drink a few beers before starting his life as a monk the following morning.

Since the veteran, or “doughboy” as the ep’s synopsis refers to him, fought in the First World War, he was born in the 19th century. Sure, this is 1982, but it needs to be noted this man is old as hell. He explains to Norm and company that his fellow soldiers hold a reunion in Boston every 10 years. Additionally, the first one to the party traditionally strips down to his under-roos (his words, not mine) in order to surprise the others. After providing the set up for the episode’s eventual gag, the doughboy retreats back to the pool room.

The monk-to-be, meanwhile, gets hammered off two beers and begins having second thoughts about joining the monastery. Realizing he needs to take life by the horns, he grabs a hold of Diane, professes his love for her and kisses her. The live studio audience laughs and applauds.

Funny, sure? But it should be noted that this unwanted advance by the young monk comes after Sam did the same thing in episode four (and tried again several other times) and just two or three episodes after Norm’s boss essentially tried raping Diane on the pool table. The latter was the result of Diane being asked by Norm to keep his boss company because the office party he held at Cheers was a dud. When Norm saw Diane fighting off his boss, he pulled him off of her and was subsequently fired. (Despite having what would appear to be a pretty solid wrongful termination suit going for him, Norm instead opts to be an unemployed accountant for a majority of the show’s run from here on out.)

Shocked and appalled, Diane gets away from the monk by walking into the pool room, where – SURPRISE! – she’s greeted by the old vet and his (presumably) old whitie tighties.

There are two pressing issues here. First what is it about the young, smart, sassy-if-not-smug, and (kinda) prudish Ms. Chambers that drives all these men absolutely gaga? Sam remarks in one episode that she’s too judgemental of everyone and says she doesn’t like anyone in another. So why are all these guys howling at the moon over her?

Second, and perhaps more importantly, why the hell do these men think they have the right to simply take Diane as if she’s some sort of prize whenever they have a few beers and get horny? (Or in the case of Mayday Malone, drink no beers and get horny…) Honestly, these guys are worst than Don Draper, Pete Campbell, and Roger Sterling when it comes to hounddogging. Hounddogging, it should be noted is different than tomcatting (perhaps that’s a separate post for another day).

Thus far I’ve seen at least half a dozen men come onto Diane, including the monk, Norm’s boss and Sam Malone himself. And since the entire first season takes place inside the bar, it's office and it's back pool room, I've gotta say, Mayday has created one hell of a hostile workplace environment.

When Diane agrees to become a waitress at the end of episode 1, she does so after realizing she has no experience or skills that would make her qualified for any jobs outside of being a grad school TA. Yet as I've worked my way through the first half off the season, it's obvious she's got something that drives every man she meets wild. I can't quite put a finger on it; nor can all these fellas forcing themselves onto her. But it seems Diane Chambers may just be the total package.

The question is, is that package too much for Mayday to handle? Time shall tell...