Spring Sparring Partners
By Richard Zoglin
One might be a gruff old gent with a streak of eccentricity and a taste for adventure, while the other is younger, more level-headed and a bit uptight. Or if one is an overenthusiastic amateur, the other is a world-weary pro with a hard veneer of cynicism. They seem to bicker constantly, these mismatched TV couples, yet they share a grudging respect and affection--sometimes even a wedding ring. They can be found all over the prime-time dial these days, their names often linked by racy ampersands: Simon & Simon, Hardcastle & McCormick, Kate & Allie, Cagney & Lacey, MacGruder & Loud.
TV was once filled with happy families and harmonious relationships. But ever since Archie Bunker squared off against Meathead in Norman Lear's All in the Family, tongue-in-cheek antagonism has become the engine that drives most TV sitcoms--and, in the past few seasons, a spate of lighthearted adventure shows as well. The contours of these rocky relationships have become so familiar that the cliche alarm goes off every time a new one appears. Yet with the right mix of skilled performers, the old formula can yield a pleasing chemistry. Witness three new series debuting during the networks' third season.
Third season? Indeed. This month and next, as the 1984-85 ratings battle winds to a close and the networks start looking toward the fall, at least eleven prime-time series are being introduced for limited runs of six or more episodes. More than half of them come from ABC, which dropped to last place this season behind the newly rejuvenated NBC, and thus has the most holes to fill. Newcomers that do well in their spring tryouts are likely to reappear in the lineup next fall; for TV's latest sparring partners, these short-term engagements could be the start of long and profitable relationships.
The dueling duo in ABC's Moonlighting start out with a typically cute meet. Maddie Hayes is a successful TV model who is forced to sell off some business assets after her financial advisers abscond with all her cash. One of those assets, she discovers, is a detective agency run by David Addison, a TV- obsessed private eye with boundless self-confidence but few clients. She tries to help him drum up business, but they are rarely on the same wavelength. "This is always how I imagined it would be with a partner," he enthuses. "Two people working shoulder to shoulder, seeing eye to eye . . ." "Eating hand to mouth," she ripostes.
Close your eyes and you can picture that wisecrack coming from Carole Lombard or Rosalind Russell in a '30s screwball comedy. Moonlighting re-creates the madcap mood of those films with the help of two ingratiating stars. Cybill Shepherd as Maddie not only looks wonderful but proves to be an assured and ; appealing light comedian. As her partner in crime solving, Bruce Willis is more than her match. With his thick-necked macho charm, Willis brings a Bill Murray-esque tone of put-on to the witty patter. The show's dialogue is possibly the fastest on TV, the stories are briskly paced and unobtrusive, and Shepherd gets lots of loving close-ups. Moonlighting is a snazzy entry that deserves a full-time job on ABC next fall.
Eye to Eye, another tongue-in-cheek detective show from ABC, does not measure up to Moonlighting's stylish standard. But it has its attractions: namely Charles Durning as an old-fashioned gumshoe and Stephanie Faracy as his new "assistant," the daughter of his murdered ex-partner. The overzealous Faracy has a daffy plan for every predicament; her schemes seem inspired by too much TV watching, and they evoke grimaces from Durning that look like signs of indigestion. ("Nancy Drew poses as a butler and a maid," he grouses. "I don't.")
Unfortunately, the joke wears thin before the end of the first episode, never mind a full season, and the plot twists are ludicrously implausible even for this sort of frivolity. Running from the bad guys on an airstrip, the pair hop into a private plane as Faracy claims she has had flying lessons. Taxiing down the runway under a hail of gunfire, she suddenly remembers that she never learned how to take off. The audience, along with Durning, reaches for the antacid.
In Off the Rack, Ed Asner and Eileen Brennan do not, for a change, run from bullets or solve mysteries. Their new show is a relatively mundane sitcom about the crusty owner of a garment company who is forced to share the business with the widow of his recently deceased partner. The two have little in common except pigheadedness, but somehow they manage to make a go of the business.
They make a go of the sitcom too. Off the Rack, which had a one-shot preview on ABC last December and is returning for six episodes, comes closer than any show this season to re-creating the down-to-earth ambience of Lear's comedies of the early '70s. At a time when upscale families and well-to-do professionals are in vogue, here are a pair of recognizable people embarked on the familiar task of trying to make ends meet. The show's gag writing is lame at times, but the two stars seem to have firmly located their characters. Asner cranks up his Lou Grant surliness a few more notches, yet finds humor in a character with few redeeming traits. Brennan, with her sultry voice and < razor-sharp timing, savors each sarcastic comeback as if it were a fine wine. The two make a highly unstable compound, but it just might be a formula for success.