Moonlighting on The Edge

By Richard Zoglin

When America last saw David Addison and Maddie Hayes, things seemed to be coming to a head for the sparring detectives and almost lovers of ABC's Moonlighting. Maddie (Cybill Shepherd) has a dashing new boyfriend (Mark Harmon), but realizes that David (Bruce Willis) is jealous. Will the two finally get together? If the show's fans are holding their breath for an answer, they may turn blue before it arrives. The four-part episode that is supposed to resolve the problem began airing on Feb. 3. Seven weeks and four repeat episodes later, the conclusion is still to be seen.

Like a fifth-grader caught without his homework, Moonlighting has plenty of excuses. In the midst of filming the multi-parter, Willis broke his collarbone on a Sun Valley ski slope and was absent three days. Another two weeks' worth of shooting was lost while Shepherd, who is expecting twins in October, was fighting off morning sickness. Those misfortunes only complicated the show's chronic inability to stay on schedule. Most network series turn out at least 22 new episodes a season; Moonlighting will be lucky to scrape together 17. Its scripts are often finished just a few hours before shooting starts, and some episodes have even wound up short, forcing the writers to invent an extra scene to fill the time -- usually just the two stars vamping before the camera to "introduce" the segment.

Is this any way to run a TV series? Maybe not, but since its debut two years ago, Moonlighting has moved up steadily in the ratings to its current No. 9 spot. The show's success is Executive Producer Glenn Gordon Caron's best response to charges that his work habits are undisciplined. "It sounds pompous," says Caron, "but maybe it's irresponsible to bring a television show in on time and on budget every week and have it be about nothing."

At first glance, Moonlighting isn't about much. The mystery plots are slight and derivative: so many bogus suicides and murders have been staged that the show could be subtitled "101 Ways to Remake Vertigo." But Shepherd, as the straitlaced ice queen, and Willis, as the wisecracking clod-with-a- heart-of-gold, are a screen team to treasure. Despite some straining this season, the writers have managed to deepen and develop their relationship without losing the comic fizz. And no other series takes more chances. The actors frequently step out of character for asides to the camera, and the show may break completely from format on a whim. One of this season's episodes featured a seven-minute Gene Kellyesque dance number. Another was an elaborate parody of The Taming of the Shrew done in Elizabethan costume and mock iambic pentameter.

Such inventiveness does not come cheap. The Taming of the Shrew segment cost a reported $3 million -- nearly twice the show's usual $1.6 million an episode, already well above average for an hour show. Because of the ultrafast dialogue, scripts average 95 pages, compared with about 60 for a typical TV hour, and take ten to twelve days to shoot (eight for most shows). Much of the production disarray, however, can be traced to Caron, 32, a portly ex-writer for Remington Steele. Co-workers describe him as a perfectionist who thrives on working close to deadlines and asking for last-minute major changes. The six staff writers have learned to cope with life on the edge. Says one: "When we get a couple of days ahead of the camera, it's time to take a long lunch."

The harried work habits are tough on everyone, from the prop man, who has to rush out to find an antique car for a newly added scene, to the performers, who must memorize lines on short notice. "The actors have it worst," says Shepherd. "You can't play the beginning ((of an episode)) too well if you don't know what the ending is going to be. But I'd rather get a good script at the last minute than a bad one two weeks ahead of time." Willis, whose success on the show has launched him into budding film and recording careers, describes the series as an "incredible grind," but praises its dedication to quality. "There are still times when we walk away from a scene because we need more time on it," he says.

Members of the production team vigorously deny one rumored problem, a reported feud between Willis and Shepherd, though some complain about Shepherd's absences. "When she doesn't want to work, she doesn't work," says a staffer. Shepherd has volunteered to shoot one or two extra episodes after the scheduled end of this season's filming on April 22, to help make up for the three months she will take off starting in August.

Meanwhile, Caron and the writers are grappling with how to write her pregnancy into the series. The danger, of course, is that the obvious solution -- Maddie and David's marriage -- might harm their delicate love-hate relationship and start a viewer exodus. If, that is, viewers haven't first been driven away by the frequent reruns. "It worries me terribly that they're going to abandon us," admits Caron. "There's a certain measure of trust going on there which can easily be abused." So far, however, the perils of Moonlighting seem to have only added to its appeal. Even Caron's network bosses have accepted the cost overruns and production delays, largely because the show is one of their precious few hits. "We'd like to put our foot down," says Ted Harbert, vice president of motion pictures for ABC Entertainment. "But the minute Moonlighting becomes a cookie-cutter show, we'll be history."

With reporting by D. Blake Hallanan/Los Angeles