September 30, 2021

Moonlighting: How the Best Show on Television Came Apart at the Seams

The following article is transcribed from an essay I wrote on May 15, 1989 -- the day after the last episode of Moonlighting aired. The Newsweek cover is an original scan from the Pop Culture Fiend Archives. Any additions or clarifications made during article transcription appear in brackets.


Moonlighting: How the Best Show on Television Came Apart at the Seams 

It’s all over now... Last night was the last episode of Moonlighting ever. Whether ABC will show reruns of this season's episodes, I don’t know. The show might even go into syndication (God forbid.) Regardless, there will be no new episodes of Moonlighting. But despite this, the show will not be forgotten. Personally, I have several episodes on videotape, including some of the classic ones. But as I was watching that very last episode I couldn’t help but wonder what happened. This is a show that two years ago was the hottest thing going, and now it’s been abruptly canceled. 

I’m obviously not a network executive; I don’t have access to Hollywood inside information but I've followed the show from the very beginning and made the following determinations that help explain Moonlighting's staggering downfall.

Cybill Shepherd‘s pregnancy

Anytime a lead actress on a TV series becomes pregnant it's trouble. And anybody who watched Moonlighting regularly can tell you that it certainly spelled the beginning of the end for the show. It happened during the great '86-'87 season and by the time Mark Harmon showed up [to form the riveting Dave-Maddie-Sam] love triangle] the show was already shooting around Shepherd's pregnancy.

But Shepherd's pregnancy wasn’t the [only] problem... For some reason it was decided that the Maddie character would become pregnant as well. Now someone should have recognized that this was not a smart move. By making Maddie pregnant, the writers were painting themselves into a corner. They were committing themselves to a main storyline (i.e., what will happen with Maddie's baby? And will she and David stay together?)

The smart thing to do would have been to simply let Shepherd have her baby and write Maddie out of the show for the first few episodes of the '87-'88 season. The show was certainly popular enough at the time (9th in the ratings the previous year) and Bruce Willis was talented enough to carry several episodes by himself. Then, when Maddie returned (from wherever) she and Dave could get back to business as usual and their romance could take whatever direction the writing team saw fit. 

The writer's strike

Show creator Glenn Gordon Caron and the Moonlighting writers had trouble delivering the normal amount of episodes to the network under normal circumstances. [Moonlighting was one of the most dialogue-heavy shows of its time, loaded with constant banter, sharp wordplay, flirtations and lengthy arguments between Dave and Maddie. This led to Moonlighting scripts typically being much longer than the average one-hour detective show.] So when the 1988 Hollywood writers' strike hit, the show got off to a very late start that fall and began to lose popularity. 

Outside projects of the two stars 

Simply put, Moonlighting gave Cybill Shepherd's career a rebirth and made Bruce Willis's. Willis was an unknown before landing his role, but soon proved himself to be a major TV talent as well as a natural for the big screen. He appeared on television specials, cut an album and played some live gigs, and in the summer of 1988 his movie Die Hard was a blockbuster. Soon after, Willis went on record saying he would do the last two years of his Moonlighting contract and then call it quits. 

Shepherd also shot a movie during the show's run (Chances Are) and did a number of TV commercials. More importantly [after enduring a post-1970's career stall] Hollywood was interested in her again and she was getting all kinds of offers. Because of all this, Willis and Shepherd became distracted and in some episodes their performances suffered. In particular, Willis, who won an Emmy in 1987, looked as if he was just counting the days until his contract expired and he would be free to do movies full-time. Shepherd was slightly better but her acting seemed [apathetic] at times and she and Willis both seemed like they’d rather be someplace else. [Shepherd, for example, in efforts to be more comfortable during shooting, would insist on swapping her heels for a pair of Reeboks. This wasn't a big deal in and of itself, but given the context of what was happening with the show at the time, perhaps it was an indication that she was becoming spoiled and bored with the show.]

Bad choices by the show creators

When the '87-'88 season finally got underway, it proved disastrous. After finally sleeping with David, Maddie wound up flying home to Chicago in order to sort things out, while David, Bert and Agnes held the fort [at Blue Moon] in LA. Having Dave and Maddie in two different cities killed the fundamental premise of the entire show -- the friction and love/hate relationship between the two characters. Since the two were not interacting, the writers chose to focus some episodes on David and others on Maddie. [With the exception of the two-part "Cool Hand Dave" episode] most of these shows were just awful. (Remember the Pat Boone episode in which Maddie imagined what it would be like if David cleaned up his act?) 

[The shows fans were not happy and] ratings began to slip drastically. Then, in what was perhaps the worst decision anyone could have made, it was decided that Maddie would marry a man she just met on a train. One can only assume that this was a desperate attempt to boost ratings [via shock value] and generate new interest in the show. But viewer response to Maddie's marriage was so overwhelmingly negative that the writers were forced to have her divorced two episodes later. 

Natural decline in the quality of writing

[Jeff Reno and Ron Osborne headed the Moonlighting writing team and for two and half seasons the group was able to inject the show with some of the snappiest, wittiest and intelligent dialogue we would see prior to the debuts of shows like The West Wing (which Reno and Osborn also worked on) and Frasier. To this day, the "Atomic Shakespeare" episode of Moonlighting remains one of the single greatest pieces of television ever produced for a weekly prime time series -- right up there with "Goodbye, Farewell, and Amen" (the final episode of M*A*S*H) and the "A, My Name is Alex" episode of Family Ties.]

Indeed, Moonlighting was one of the most creative and imaginative series in the history of television and the fact that its scribes were able to maintain such high-level quality writing for as long as they did is testimony to their genius. But you can only go so far with the same characters in the same setting, and in the fifth season ('88-'89) the writers seemed to run out of steam. The storylines became thinner and the dialogue not as funny. The show began to rely more and more on the gimmicks (like characters breaking the fourth wall and addressing the audience directly) that had made the show something special. In the first show of that season, Maddie lost the baby, finally freeing everyone from a storyline that should have never been pursued in the first place. The plan for that season was to start from scratch, but the damage had been done. Both the ratings and the buzz around the show had declined tremendously the season before and though all the ingredients seemed to still be there, the magic was gone. 

So there you have it. As I sat watching the last 15 minutes of the last Moonlighting ever, I thought to myself, "So this is how it all ends?" 

I thought about how I had been one of the few who had watched the show from the very beginning, before it became so popular. I thought about the pilot episode [which premiered so unusually in March of 1985 as a very late season replacement.] Later, I thought about how many people were missing this last episode [despite the fact that it was specifically written, shot and promoted as the series finale.] 

It  was a sad moment but those last 15 minutes with Dave and Maddie were great. When Maddie said, "I can’t imagine not seeing you tomorrow," it really felt like she (Cybill Shepherd) meant it. And then there’s a shot of Willis' face and he looked genuinely moved -- like he had all kinds of different feelings on the inside. [Like he knows that although things got awfully muddled along the way, nevertheless, this isn't the way the book should end.] That look on his face says it all. 

Still and all, it was a great ending to a great show -- and it was great while it lasted. 

So long Moonlighting, I’m gonna miss you...

I love that show.


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September 19, 2021

What's the Deal with the Serena-Wonder Woman Commercial?

Not sure what the recent fascination with Serena Williams is all about. She's 40, well past her prime athletically, is constantly injured these days, and hasn't won a Grand Slam since the 2017 Australian Open (which began in January of that year -- when Barack Obama was still in the White House!) 

There wasn't this much coverage or interest in Serena fifteen or so years ago when she was at the top of her game, dominating women's tennis and winning tournaments on a regular basis. So why do we now seemingly see her everywhere, including this commercial for Direct TV? Click here to see see what I mean.

If you're like me, you probably noticed that somehow, the Amazonian powers that Serena gains not only transform her into Wonder Woman, they also enable the moles on her face to travel back and forth indiscriminately from the right side (0:14) to the left side (0:18). This phenomenon is evident no matter which cut of the commercial you're watching (albeit with different timestamps.)

So did someone somehow inadvertently flip the image and no one noticed until it was too late?... Was the image flipped purposely in order to solve some larger production dilemma, thereby leaving no choice but to have Serena's moles appear to bounce back and forth?... I guess we'll never know. But this happenstance (however it came to be) deserves to examined. 

I seriously doubt this blunder wasn't caught in time. You're telling me, the agency's creative leads, the commercial's director, the video editors and production people involved, the account execs, and the client (i.e., all of the big-wigs at AT&T) -- they all missed this and only realized the error after the spot began airing?... Doubtful.

So the question is, how could the company choose to let the spot go to market like this? I mean, wasn't there a meeting where they weighed the pros and cons of such a decision? 

I can honestly say that I have been in those meetings -- where the advertising agency, after days, weeks or months of production, presents finished creative to the client company. "Last look"-type meetings where the client signs off on said creative, and I can state unequivocally that there is absolutely no acceptable explanation for why something like this shouldn't be fixed... None. 

You spend all of that money producing this commercial; you pay Serena; you pay John McEnroe; you pay the costumer (likely the same one used for Gal Gadot for the WW movies) and have a custom-fitted duplicate outfit made for Serena; and you don't want to spend the cash or take the time and effort to make the spot right by fixing the moles issue?

The result of not doing so is that we're left with a commercial that's something that AT&T and its ad agency should be ashamed of. Even moreso after so many like me have called them out on Twitter

Look, replacing TV ads and similar creative already trafficked into market can be tricky and expensive, but AT&T can certainly afford it. So the only explanation is that decision makers there believed the public wouldn't notice or care -- and/or that the mistake (as obvious and amateurish as it is) for whatever reason wasn't worth correcting.

But if AT&T doesn't have enough respect for its brand, for its customers, and for the simple notion of owning up to your own sloppy (or otherwise corner-cutting created) mistakes, then the company really don't deserve your business. 

And as for the advertising and marketing agencies involved in creating the spot -- which include Hearts & Science, a division of Omnicom Group -- they should all be rightfully mocked for their negligence and for being complicit.

September 1, 2021

What Happened in the Physical Writer's Room?


Just to be clear, this is not a review. I don't do reviews of TV shows, movies, music or anything else creative. It's because I have far too much respect for artists and know firsthand that practically anyone can write an article, speak on a podcast, etc., about what someone else has created. It takes far more talent, discipline and courage to create something from nothing and then (if you're one of the lucky ones) put it out there for consumption and inevitable critique. So yeah, this is not a review; this is just someone wondering what happened with Physical's Annie Weisman and the other show creators/writers that would result in the series taking such drastic turns (beginning with episode 5) that it makes you wonder if the series was threatened with cancellation unless big changes took place. A quick recap:

Physical traces Sheila Rubin (Rose Byrne) a middle-aged housewife in 1980s San Diego who discovers aerobics as a source of empowerment and escape from her eating disorder, troubled marriage to a failed college professor turned politician, and everything else wrong in her life. I very much wanted to like this show having lived in San Diego, followed Rose Byrne since her American breakout role in Troy, and have deep affection for almost all things 80s -- so this premise piqued my interest and I was able to  breeze through Physical's first season in a matter of days.

But for what is billed as a "comedy/drama", Physical plays like a depressing, oftentimes enraging show that breaks one of the golden rules of storytelling -- your protagonist must elicit empathy. In other words, we have to care about, share (or at the very least, understand) the feelings of the main character. Sheila Rubin should be someone that you root for and instead, you more or less despise everything she does, everything she says, and (through an ongoing narrative device the show uses) everything she thinks as well. And this, ladies and gentlemen, is because Sheila Rubin is one of the worst people in the world -- self-serving, jealous, manipulative, negligent, two-faced, deceitful, and a bad wife and mother to boot.

Now by no means am I saying that every TV protagonist needs to be likable. There are far-worse flawed, even despicable characters that we've rooted for, despite the fact that they were drug kingpins (Breaking Bad's Walter White), crime bosses (Tony Soprano), serial killers (Dexter's Dexter Morgan) or just all around ruthless criminals (Animal Kingdom's Cody family.) But the difference is that all of these antiheroes have something redeemable about their actions and agendas. Walter White dives headlong into drug trafficking to provide for his wife, son and unborn child; Dexter's killings can be argued justifiable because he's (mostly) just offing the guilty; and Tony Soprano and the Cody's -- for all their reckless violence, murder and mayhem -- exhibit a family first trust and loyalty that's at least somewhat admirable.

In contrast, Sheila's only agenda is herself. At one point, she declares "aerobics saved me." But with every selfish, immoral decision she makes, it seems much more like the opposite is true -- aerobics didn't save Sheila; she's sold her soul for it. She's that character you love to hate -- like the WWE's Iron Sheik or J.R. Ewing from Dallas -- except unlike those two characters, it's not by design.

On the contrary, after a few episodes, shouldn't I be in Sheila's corner, earnestly hoping she actually makes something of her budding career? Shouldn't I be against all the people and circumstances standing in her way?... Instead, I'm at the point where I prefer that Sheila fail, as it becomes more and more clear what a horrible person she already is and is further becoming by the episode. What has Sheila done to deserve such contempt? Well so far she's:
  • Blackmailed her business partner Bunny...
  • Repeatedly abandoned her husband Danny and their efforts for him to win election to state legislature...
  • Cooked the books and embezzled money from the aforementioned political campaign...
  • Rationalized stealing from both her friend Greta and from an old ballet teacher...
  • Extorted money from her parents...
  • Drained the family bank account to pay for hotel rooms so she can better hide her eating disorder... 
  • Ignored her young daughter who is obviously autistic

And on top of all that, she's now about to cheat on her husband with John Breem, one of Danny's political opponents.

It begs the question, who exactly is the villain on Physical? With the exception of Breem (with his ultra-weird Mitt Romney meets Marshall Applewhite persona) you like every single other character on this show more than you like Sheila. And with every non-sequitur plot twist and character change, this becomes truer and truer.

Which brings us back to my topic sentence... What the hell happened in the writers room on this show? Because it seems like halfway through season 1, the executive producers or other highly influential persons connected to the show threw a grenade in that room and ran. It's one explanation for why (beginning with episode 5) Physical began a slew of inexplicable and extreme plot twists, awkward character expansions and gratuitous backstory reveals that would have the writers of Melrose Place cringing. Some examples:

  • The subplot of Greta's husband's fetish for shaving women's heads (and Greta -- who up to this point had been established as a conservative, mousey housewife -- surprisingly choosing to indulge her husband's freaky sexual desire.)
  • Deep diving into John Breem's ultra-stoic, hyper-religious personality and his weird personal life, including his Stepford Wives-ish spouse and family.
  • Tyler's (Bunny's surfer boyfriend) health crisis.
  • Bunny's seemingly added at the last minute backstory of having immigrated from war-torn Lebanon and being estranged from her family.
  • Sheila's revelation of being sexually abused as a child by one of her father's friends (which, I'm sorry, but at this point, is as trite a plot twist as there is.)
It's not just that all of these new elements were jammed into the show's final episodes, it's that they were introduced so clumsily, with almost no build-up or foreshadowing. Bunny has a friction-filled get together with her sister in episode 5 that comes out of nowhere. Til then, Bunny comes off as a typical soCal bottle blond who exists simply to both challenge and assist Sheila's aerobics aspirations. There's no hint at all that she's Lebanese. Not that TV characters can't be developed or have new dimensions added as a series unfolds, but after episode 5, where Bunny has that contentious meeting with her sister and they discuss how they escaped Beirut, we get zilch. We see or hear nothing else about Bunny's family drama or Lebanon for the rest of the season. 

Other plot points (Danny's infidelity; Sheila's hatred for Danny's campaign manager) are executed less awkwardly and have an appropriate slow build, so when the powder keg finally blows, it will be all the more effective in amping up the drama. But again, it's as if the show's exec producers (which include Rose Byrne) took a pause from filming and said, "Guys, we need to shake things up. How can we make the supporting characters more interesting? Believability and being true to the natures of the characters we've built to this point be damned! We need some shocking reveals and we only have five episodes left to deliver!"


And through it all, Sheila grows less and less sympathetic. The worse was in the season finale. Danny loses the election and we hear Sheila's hateful, venom-filled thoughts about him. "Cant even pull off a local election. This is what you've tied yourself to... He's just a loser; a weak pathetic loser." 

The inner monologue continues and turns into another of Sheila's frequent self-loathing sessions, as she (yet again) abandons Danny at a moment he needs her and instead heads off to the aerobics studio. The shows writers will probably tell you that the entire sequence is supposed to be a turning point in Sheila's life. She's finally "taking back her power", unhitching her wagon from dead weight, and breaking free so she can pursue her own dream and establish an identity beyond that of the faithful wife (which by the way, she has been at no point during the series.)

But that interpretation/explanation would work much better if Danny was a selfish, abusive, ungrateful asshole of a husband. Instead, apart from his dalliance with one of his former students (and maybe force-feeding Sheila a cream puff), the worst thing you can say about him is that he's overly naive and idealistic. Moreover, there are several moments where he praises his wife, calls her his muse and his rock, and declares that none of the good things happening with the campaign would be possible without her. In short, Danny is a far less flawed, far more supportive (and thus more likable) character than Sheila and I genuinely hoped he'd win the election. With Sheila, as she connives and schemes new ways to grow her aerobics business -- while simultaneously disregards her daughter walking in circles, throwing fits, and suffering from sensory overload (all classic signs of autism) -- I find myself just hoping the neighbors don't hear as I scream at the TV, "You are such an awful person! Get your daughter some help for God's sake!"

And all of this, every shortcoming this show has, is all due to bad writing and poor plotting and characterization. It makes one wonder why such obvious deficiencies weren't corrected before episodes began filming. Maybe it was because at the time Physical came across Apple +'s path, the streamer was playing catch up in the streaming wars and so badly needed content that everyone was willing to overlook the fact that the show's scripts needed doctoring. 

Or maybe it was the collective clout of Weisman and Byrne, combined with a Times Up-inspired climate that was encouraging more greenlighting of women-focused shows not only at Apple + but across the entire television landscape. 

Or maybe Apple + just likes poorly written shows. The Morning Show, another one of Apple's flagship series, suffers terribly from heavy handed dialogue and stereotypical characterizations

Oh well, on to season 2. (Because 80s!)


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