Showing posts with label 1996. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1996. Show all posts

Saturday, November 26, 2016

Putting Your Best Foot Forward



"Frasier, if you overanalyze every detail, you will rob us of the joy of the moment. It will be our wedding night all over again."

Lilith (Bebe Neuwirth)

In the Thanksgiving episode of Frasier that aired on this night in 1996, "A Lilith Thanksgiving," the Cranes were in Boston for Thanksgiving — but only because the headmaster of an exclusive school had agreed to meet with Lilith and Frasier on Thanksgiving morning, and they were eager to have their son Frederick admitted to the school.

Frasier (Kelsey Grammer) and Lilith (Bebe Neuwirth) made a reasonably good impression when they first went to meet with the headmaster — but afterward they began to second–guess everything they had said and done and made return visits to try to amend what had transpired before.

The first time they did this, they returned to the headmaster's home on a ruse — Lilith would pretend that she had lost an earring when they were there before. Once they were there, Lilith felt compelled to embellish the story, telling the headmaster that the earrings were treasured gifts from Golda Meir.

Then she found herself in the position of having to elaborate on that when the headmaster asked her how she met Mrs. Meir.

Lilith told the headmaster that was an interesting story, then she rather clumsily passed that baton to Frasier, saying, "Frasier, you tell it much better than I do."

And Frasier indulged himself in a little ad–libbing of his own, saying they had met through Mrs. Meir's grandson, "Oscar."

"That would be Oscar Meir?" the headmaster inquired.

"You can imagine the ribbing he got!" Frasier replied.

Frasier and Lilith were nothing if not obsessive. In that regard they were perfect partners.

They kept returning to the headmaster's house each time they thought of something else they should do to reinforce their interest in the school. They were concerned that Frederick might not get the only available slot, that it might go to the child of an alumnus or a generous benefactor.

That was not foremost in the headmaster's mind, though. He was trying to prepare Thanksgiving dinner for some guests, but it wasn't coming along well, and the near–constant interruptions weren't helping.

Under this circumstance, Lilith and Frasier decided to made their bid to be the headmaster's holiday benefactors.

After the headmaster observed that his turkey was so undercooked "a skilled veterinarian could still save him," Lilith and Frasier returned to Lilith's home and took the turkey that Niles (David Hyde Pierce) had been cooking in their absence so they could give it to the headmaster to curry favor with him.

In essence, they wore down the headmaster, who finally told them that Frederick was admitted — but he would be immediately expelled if either Lilith or Frasier ever came to the school for any reason or attended any school events, including graduation.

Lilith and Frasier agreed, of course. For them, the holiday had been a success.

Niles, meanwhile, was still looking for the turkey that had vanished into thin air.

Saturday, November 19, 2016

Seeing Double



"I can't talk right now, Duke. I'm in the Twilight Zone."

Martin (John Mahoney)

It is said that everyone has a double somewhere in this world.

That probably makes the odds against encountering your doppelgänger extraordinarily high. For example, I'm in Dallas, Texas. Suppose my doppelgänger is in Europe somewhere — or perhaps Australia or Russia. I haven't been overseas in a long time (I was in my teens), and I have no plans to go overseas anytime soon. Unless my doppelgänger plans to come to America — Dallas, specifically, since I rarely travel — we will probably never meet.

Considering the size of the world, that's likely to be the case for most people. The song may say it's a small world, but the truth is that it is we the people who are small — at least when compared to the world. A person's doppelgänger is likely to be half a world away. Might as well be on the moon.

My guess is that doppelgängers (assuming they do exist) hardly ever live in the same city — but that was how it apparently was for Niles (David Hyde Pierce) and his doppelgänger in the episode of Frasier, "Mixed Doubles," that aired on this night in 1996.

When the episode began, the Cranes were enjoying various pursuits at home, and Daphne (Jane Leeves) came in from her date, confessing that she and her boyfriend had broken up. The news was not exactly greeted as tragic by Niles, who had been pining for Daphne since the series began more than three years earlier. He told Frasier (Kelsey Grammer) that he was going to confess his feelings to Daphne.

Frasier urged him to wait. Daphne was vulnerable and needed more time to get over the shock. He had waited this long, Frasier noted. One more day wouldn't make a difference.

Ah, but it did.

When Niles came over the next day, he was on the verge of telling Daphne how he felt when she received a phone call from a fellow she met the night before when Roz (Peri Gilpin) took her to a singles bar to take Daphne's mind off her former beau.

This fellow apparently had swept Daphne up on the rebound, and she was no longer available, but Niles had, as he called it, a "fallback plan," which was to have Roz take him to that singles bar — which she did, and Niles met a charming young woman named Adelle (that is the correct spelling, by the way — Niles' opening line was to ask if she spelled her name with one L or two). They started dating.

Then, when Niles was introducing Adelle to his father and brother, Daphne came in with her new beau, Rodney — and he was the mirror image of Niles. He had many of the same quirks and mannerisms.

Niles couldn't see it at first, but his father and brother certainly did. In one of my favorite moments from the Frasier series, Martin and Frasier retreated to the kitchen upon realizing that Niles and Rodney were like two peas in a pod and said to each other simultaneously, "What the hell was that?"

Frasier said they should tie a bell around Niles' neck so he could be identified.

When Niles realized how alike he and Rodney were, he was furious. Frasier had talked him out of approaching Daphne the very night she fell for Rodney.

But Rodney apparently hadn't fallen as hard as Daphne had. Frasier and Niles soon discovered that he was seeing Adelle.

When they confronted Rodney, he told them he planned to break things off with Daphne that evening over drinks. Niles suggested that he should do it instead, and Rodney agreed.

So Niles kept the date with what he thought would be an unsuspecting Daphne — except that she had been running late so she called Rodney and he told her everything.

And then Daphne and Niles had a heart–warming conversation that, in its way, foreshadowed what was to come.

If you have never seen this episode, it is well worth seeing. Funny and poignant at the same time.

Saturday, November 12, 2016

An Unusual Bonding Experience



Niles (David Hyde Pierce): Do people really care this much about a basketball game?

Roz (Peri Gilpin): Are you kidding? This is Seattle; it rains nine months out of the year. We take our indoor sports very seriously.

Niles: Well, I know you always have.

The classic father–son bonding experience has something to do with sports.

Much of the time, it is the experience of playing catch — or some variation on that — in the yard. Fathers who aren't particularly athletically inclined may still bond with their sons over sports by watching games on TV — or, better still, at the ballpark.

My relationship with my father was one of the latter. He wasn't into playing catch, as I recall. We probably played catch a few times when I was a child, but it isn't a vivid memory for me. But I can remember watching football games with him on TV. In fact, it is something we still do to this day.

There are some fathers and sons who, for any number of reasons, don't bond over sports at all. The relationships that Frasier Crane (Kelsey Grammer) and Niles Crane (David Hyde Pierce) had with their father Martin (John Mahoney) were in that category. Martin loved sports, especially the local Seattle teams, but Niles and Frasier weren't interested in sports.

But in the episode of Frasier that aired on this night in 1996, "Head Game," Niles and Martin bonded over sports in an unexpected way.

The episode began with Frasier asking Niles to fill in for him on his radio show while he was away — ostensibly to attend a convention of radio psychiatrists (in reality, Grammer was checking in to the Betty Ford Center for substance abuse treatment).

Thus, Niles' presence on his brother's radio show was explained.

As Niles concluded his first day's program, Bulldog (Dan Butler) came in to do his show and told Niles and Roz (Peri Gilpin) that the guest on his show would be a player for Seattle's basketball team. The player had been capable of great things at one time but had hit a skid.

When they were introduced, the player recognized Niles as the psychiatrist he had just heard on the radio and sought some advice to help with his slump. They stepped out into the hallway where they could talk. Niles suggested a few mental exercises, but it was obvious that he was clueless about sports. Bulldog called him back to the studio. The amused player rubbed Niles' head as they parted.

That night the player broke out of his slump and hit a game–winning shot. In the postgame interview, he gave Niles the credit.

That made Niles a local hero — and perhaps nowhere was that more true than in Frasier's apartment, where both Martin and Daphne (Jane Leeves) carried on about his achievement.

At the radio station, everyone was patting him on the back and giving him a thumb's up. Roz had a bunch of faxes waiting for him praising him for helping Seattle's star player get back on track.

And the player sent over courtside tickets to that night's game. Niles took Martin and Daphne to the game, but the player seemed to have fallen back into his slump. He came to Niles for advice during a break in the action and confided that he had followed all of Niles' suggestions, but nothing worked. The only thing different was that he hadn't rubbed Niles' head as he had done in the radio studio. So he did, and then his luck changed.

Niles had a dilemma. He didn't feel right about taking credit for the player's turnaround when his psychiatric advice had nothing to do with it. He was simply, in his own words, "a rabbit's foot."

So he told Martin they would not go to games anymore. Martin didn't take that too well. He had just been bragging on the phone about how he was "living large" with courtside seats and VIP parking. Now it was taken away from him. He would be going to no more basketball games.

However, Niles did go to the arena to talk to the player.

It seemed that Niles had persuaded the player that he could not continue to be a good–luck charm.

But as the episode drew to a close, the audience knew the player was planning to cut some of Niles' hair, presumably to keep handy for those times when he lapsed back into a slump. The last thing the audience saw was the player holding some scissors behind his back.

I've heard that the episode was originally written for Grammer — but, as I say, he was elsewhere and the episode was used to showcase Niles instead.

Saturday, October 22, 2016

Deconstructive Criticism



Niles (David Hyde Pierce): Oh my God. It is T.H. Houghton. We're a stone's throw away from one of the giants of American literature.

Roz (Peri Gilpin): Not the way you throw.

I guess the character of reclusive writer T.H. Houghton (played by Robert Prosky) in the episode of Frasier that aired on this night in 1996 was kind of a cross between J.D. Salinger and Harper Lee. Like Lee (at the time), Houghton had published only one book — albeit an influential one that was a pillar of English lit classes everywhere — but Lee wasn't the recluse that Salinger was. Houghton combined the quirkiest of both.

Anyway, Frasier (Kelsey Grammer) and Niles (David Hyde Pierce) had stopped at the cafe for some coffee before taking their father (John Mahoney) to buy new clothes. While sipping coffee outdoors, they spotted T.H. Houghton nearby.

And they began trying to meet him.

Their father, however, was the one who succeeded in getting to know the reclusive writer — without really trying. Frasier and Niles left him at a sports bar to watch the Mariners ("He's just dead weight," Niles told Frasier before they ran off on their quest), and it turned out Houghton was there, too. The boys didn't see him — he was probably in the bathroom because he walked into the room a minute or two after they left, sat down next to Martin and began watching the game with him.

They hit it off, talking about old TV shows and swapping war stories after the baseball game ended.

Meanwhile, after their fruitless search came to an end, Frasier and Niles returned to the sports bar — only to find their father sitting at a table with T.H. Houghton. But the writer didn't stay long; in fact, he left the bar as they were coming in, and the boys were left to wonder anew how they could finagle a meeting with him.

Later, after Niles and Frasier had been to an art exhibit, they returned to Frasier's apartment and crossed paths with their father and Houghton on their way out for dinner. Houghton had been there all afternoon. Another near miss.

Perhaps they could all spend some time together after the two returned from dinner, Niles suggested hopefully.

"I doubt it," Frasier replied. "They'll probably run into J.D. Salinger and Salman Rushdie and go out for margaritas."

The next day, Houghton was set to pick up Martin so they could go to a Mariners doubleheader. As Martin explained to the boys, Houghton was only in town for a few days to drop off his new book with his publisher.

Niles and Frasier nearly had strokes. A new Houghton book! In hindsight, their reaction reminds me a great deal of the reaction to Harper Lee's new book a year ago.

They didn't get to spend time with Houghton, but he went off without his satchel, which contained his manuscript, and Niles and Frasier took it out and read it while Houghton and their father were at the doubleheader.

But they didn't manage to return the manuscript to the satchel before being caught red–handed.

At first, Houghton was indignant about the invasion of his privacy. But soon curiosity got the best of him and he asked Niles and Frasier for their opinions. "Somebody had to read it first," he observed.

What happened next surprised everyone.

Niles and Frasier mentioned the similarities between Houghton's book and Dante's "Divine Comedy."

Houghton concluded that he had lifted the entire structure from Dante, and he interpreted that to mean that he nothing original left to say. "I was a fool to think I had a second book in me," he said before throwing the manuscript off Frasier's balcony.

Then he thanked Niles and Frasier and told them that if the book had been published, his reputation would have been destroyed. This way, he was left with a shred of dignity, and he marched with head held high — and a sheet from the manuscript stuck to the bottom of one of his shoes — out of the apartment.

I always liked this episode because, as a writer, I know that writing is not the kind of occupation for someone who is thin–skinned. Writers will always encounter criticism, no matter how good they are. They have to accept it as a fact of the life they have chosen. In a way, I guess, it is like being a politician. Even our greatest presidents had their critics.

In this episode, the shoe was kind of on the other foot. Frasier was a thin–skinned sort, too. In an episode in the previous season, he got all bent out of shape because one member of a 12–person focus group didn't like him. This time someone else was dealing with negative thoughts.

Well, that's life. No matter how funny or smart or good–looking you are, there will always be those who don't like you or what you do — or something. Always.

Saturday, October 15, 2016

To Dream the Impossible Dream



Niles (David Hyde Pierce): I hardly need to tell you how the story ends.

Frasier (Kelsey Grammer): Just tell me when the story ends.

As I wrote a few weeks ago about the episode that kicked off the ninth season of Frasier, I have felt for a long time that the show really didn't utilize the opportunities that having a psychiatrist as the central character presented.

I'm not saying Frasier never used psychiatry as an element of its stories — it was usually present but in more of a supporting role. The series seldom tried to get inside Frasier's head.

It did 20 years ago tonight in "The Impossible Dream," when Frasier (Kelsey Grammer) had a recurring dream in which he and a co–worker, KACL food critic Gil Chesterton (Edward Hibbert), were sharing a seedy motel room bed. In the dream, Frasier awoke in a room with a crescent moon lamp on the bedside table, a tequila bottle and a tattoo on his arm with the single word "Chesty." He heard a shower running, then the water stopped. The first time this happened, Gil emerged from the bathroom. The second time it was a well–endowed young woman who came into the room, smiled and apologized, saying, "Wrong room" — after which Gil appeared on screen and told Frasier they were going to a different motel.

Frasier, of course, was a devout heterosexual, but these dreams had him wondering if perhaps his subconscious was trying to tell him something about his sexuality. Well, it built up to that.

Most psychiatrists believe that, once a recurring dream has been correctly interpreted and its meaning has been brought to the surface, the dream will no longer occur. It will have served its purpose. So Frasier and his brother (David Hyde Pierce) went on a tortured journey to interpret its meaning.

First, Frasier concluded, through a kind of free association, that his subconscious was telling him that he had been too rigid about his diet. But that turned out to be wrong. Then he and his brother concluded that it must have something to do with their late mother, but that wasn't right, either.

All the while this was going on, Frasier was trying to deal with an extended dry spell in which he had been getting no callers who truly challenged him.
"In this dream of yours, were there any cigars, bananas or short blunt swords?"

Niles

It was a late–night conversation with his father (John Mahoney) that persuaded Frasier that his dreams were a subconscious effort to flex his analytical muscles while waiting for the challenging calls to return.

Frasier thought he had resolved the problem — until he went to bed that night and a form of the dream returned — only this time there was no tattoo on his arm and no tequila bottle in the room.

In the dream there was a knock on the door. A bewildered Frasier said, "Come in," and in walked Dr. Sigmund Freud, who complimented Frasier.

"I gave you a complex psychological problem," he said, "and you solved it."

A flattered Frasier said there were so many questions he wanted to ask. Freud said there would be time for that later, that there were more important things to be done first. And with that he squirted his mouth with breath freshener and hopped into the bed with Frasier.

The impossible dream still had not been solved.

Saturday, May 21, 2016

If He Had Known Then What He Knew Now ...



"Abe Lincoln had a brighter future when he picked up his tickets at the box office."

Frasier (Kelsey Grammer)

In the episode that concluded the third season of Frasier on this night in 1996, "You Can Go Home Again," Frasier (Kelsey Grammer) tried to do the thing that, I suppose, most people try to do at some time — and in some way. Go home.

I guess it is almost always expressed in a figurative sense — except for those people who are truly saying that they are going home, back to the place where they grew up, perhaps because their parents still live there. That's how it was for my mother. Her parents lived in the same house where she grew up until the ends of their days, and my parents moved into that house and lived there until my mother died. "Going home" was almost certainly more than a figurative expression for her.

But it is largely figurative for most of us, I guess.

Frasier's wasn't quite as figurative. He was marking three years on the air, and he and Roz (Peri Gilpin) exchanged gifts to mark the occasion. Roz's gift to Frasier was a cassette tape of his first radio show.

Frasier intended to listen to it when he got home, but when he did get home, he found Daphne (Jane Leeves) on the phone with her mother in England, making excuses why she couldn't come home during her upcoming vacation. Daphne's position was that she only had one vacation a year, and she wanted to go somewhere fun like Acapulco. Going home, she told Frasier, was boring. So she wanted her mother to believe that she was the victim of her employer's tyranny.

Frasier played along, making comments that were just loud enough for Daphne's mother to hear.

When the conversation was over, Daphne asked Frasier, "Why is it so easy to love our families yet so hard to like them?"

"Well, Daphne," Frasier replied, "that is one of those questions that makes life so rich, and psychiatrists richer."

After that conversation, Frasier settled in to listen to the tape — and began remembering that first show and how Roz became his producer.

Things didn't get off to a great start, and hearing that first show almost certainly gave Frasier that feeling of if I knew then what I know now. That is certainly a big part of the desire to go home, isn't it? To change an event armed with knowledge you didn't have at the time?

We all have decisions like that in our pasts, don't we? And it is because of those experiences that we understand things we didn't understand at the time. Some things you just have to learn the hard way.

Take, for example, Frasier't first visit with his father (John Mahoney) since returning to Seattle. He was inclined to keep putting it off, but Niles (David Hyde Pierce) talked him into going with him. Frasier said his father was "Seattle's reigning sourpuss," and he was too emotionally vulnerable for that. Niles insisted that Martin was a changed man since being shot.

Actually, he wasn't a changed man.

But Niles' ploy got Frasier there, and they sat down for an uncomfortable conversation, the kind with which most people probably can relate.

After listening to the tape, Frasier agreed to go out for a celebratory dinner with his father and brother, but, before they left, he sat down to talk with Daphne about her dilemma.

"I've decided to give you an extra week off," Frasier told her. That way she could visit her family in Manchester and go to Acapulco.

"You must really think I should go home," she said.

"I've just realized that being part of a family is really worth the effort," he told her. "And very often the effort means you will need a week in Acapulco so ..."

Another valuable life lesson from Frasier.

Saturday, April 30, 2016

Waging the War Against Nicotine



Daphne (Jane Leeves): Well, I smoked for years, and I never became addicted. To this day I can buy a pack, have a cig or two, toss them in a drawer and not crave another for months.

Bebe (Harriet Sansom Harris): There's a word for people who can do that. What is it? Oh, yes. Bitch.

As a former smoker, I am always interested in TV episodes that deal with the unique challenge of kicking the habit.

That's what they called it when I was growing up — a habit. But anyone who has ever tried to give up smoking — much less succeeded — will tell you that it is not a habit.

A habit is something like doodling, drumming your fingers or biting your nails. I had a girlfriend once who would absent–mindedly twist her hair around her fingers. Those are habits. Tobacco use is an addiction, and the surgeon general once compared it to heroin addiction. (I have never tried heroin — and if it is as difficult to beat as nicotine, I'm glad I didn't.)

But that is really a different subject. The topic of the episode of Frasier that aired 20 years ago tonight was the challenge of giving up smoking, not a debate over whether it is a habit or an addiction.

Frankly that is a matter of semantics when one is trying to give up smoking, and, in that context, habit or addiction really isn't important. What is important is that the person who is trying to give up smoking needs love and support — even if (or perhaps that should be especially if) that person isn't particularly lovable to begin with.

Well, I guess that serves as an appropriate introduction to the episode of Frasier that was first shown on this night in 1996 — "Where There's Smoke There's Fired."

Frasier (Kelsey Grammer) learned that his radio station had been purchased by a diminutive Texas millionaire who went by the name of Big Willy. Big Willy owned a $600 million media empire and had the potential to put Frasier's radio program into national syndication. Consequently, Frasier was eager to schmooze his new boss, and Roz (Peri Gilpin) was eager to help, but Frasier soon realized that he would be "sucking up to Yosemite Sam."

Big Willy was in a relationship with Frasier's agent, Bebe (Harriet Sansom Harris), and wanted to marry her, but she was a smoker and Big Willy didn't want her to smoke. So he enlisted Frasier to help her kick the habit — and insisted that it be done while he was away for the weekend. There was a strong implication that Frasier's job was on the line.

If you have ever tried to quit smoking, you know that it simply can't be achieved in a weekend. It is a long, difficult process. But Frasier felt a certain amount of pressure to at least try to make Bebe smoke free.

There is an element of cunning in the initial attempts of a tobacco addict to have his/her cake and eat it, too, and the writers of Frasier captured it beautifully in this episode. Surely, at least one of the writers must have been a smoker at some time to have known the smoker's psyche so well.

Niles (David Hyde Pierce) certainly knew. He came to Frasier's apartment as Frasier and Bebe were wrapping up a therapy session. When Niles and Frasier were alone, Niles warned Frasier not to let Bebe out of his sight.

So did their father, Martin (John Mahoney). When he found out that Bebe would be staying the weekend because she was giving up smoking, Martin observed, "Great. That means she'lll be extra lovable."

You know, there is a cliche about lovers lighting up after an intense sexual session, but Bebe is the only person I have ever heard make the act of smoking sound sexual by itself.

Apparently it sounded that way to the rest of the family as well. Bebe trapped Daphne (Jane Leeves) sneaking a smoke on the balcony in the wee hours of the morning. Not long after, Martin, who was a former smoker, was caught smoking in the bathroom.

It all led to a wrestling match over a package of cigarettes — interrupted by a phone call from Big Willy, who apparently suggested to Frasier that he thought Frasier could be a star of syndication.

Somehow Frasier managed to wean Bebe of the cigarettes — as a former smoker, I really found that achievement in a single weekend impossible to accept.

Bebe's smoke–free status held up for three weeks — until the day she and Big Willy were supposed to walk down the aisle. But Big Willy had a fatal heart attack as they were walking down the aisle. Bebe tried to animate Big Willy as if he were a ventriloquist's dummy, and they proceeded down the aisle, but the pretense ended when they got to the front of the church.

All their hopes for fame, fortune and syndications were, well, up in smoke.

Tuesday, March 29, 2016

Getting Carried Away



"Looking back you never regret the ones you did, only the ones you didn't."

Dr. Evans (Hal Holbrook)

I always liked Dennis Hopper. I can't think of a performance he gave that I didn't enjoy, and I was very sad to learn of his death nearly six years ago.

If a typical story has its hero and its antihero, I suppose you would have to classify most, if not all, of Hopper's roles as antihero — not necessarily in the sense that he was a villainous character (although he did play some villainous types at times) but usually in the sense that he definitely was not an heroic figure. Whether he played a villain or not, he was usually weak, flawed, imperfect. He was always very human, neither truly evil nor truly good, neither black nor white but 50 shades of grey — like most humans. In that sense, he was truly an Everyman.

Having said that, I feel compelled to observe that Hopper's work in "Carried Away," which premiered 20 years ago today, was a more introspective and thoughtful performance than moviegoers saw him give in most of his movies. In many ways, I felt I really knew his character — Joseph, a middle–aged farmer/teacher who had a lame leg because of an accident in his youth and, perhaps as a result, never strayed far from where he was brought up. At the age of 47 he lived with his cancer–stricken mother in the farmhouse in which he was raised. He taught in the local school and tended the farm when he wasn't teaching.

It was a predictable existence — including the routine outward appearance of Joseph's ongoing courtship of a widow and colleague (played by Amy Irving).

That is the thing about Everymen, I guess. After a certain point in their lives, they don't tend to take risks — if they ever did. They stick with what is safe and familiar.

And that is how it was with Joseph and Rosealee.

Another thing about Everymen. At some point, they seem to realize their limitations — or, at the very least, they recognize that they have limitations.

And they live within those limitations, whatever they happen to be. They are realists. Joseph certainly was a realist. A brutally honest one. "I'm a mediocre teacher," he said at one point, "and an even worse farmer."

Joseph was a man who lived a safe life — until he found himself being forced out of his teaching job because he didn't have the academic credentials that were required by the school district. He was told his services would no longer be needed after the current school year ended. Not long after, a beautiful young girl (Amy Locane) came into his life through his classroom. She was the daughter of a retired Army major (Gary Busey) who wanted to board his daughter's horse on Joseph's property. She came over regularly to ride her horse — and seduced Joseph, who found himself caught in the classic conundrum — torn between pleasure and guilt.

It was a challenge at times for Joseph to keep his relationship with the girl secret, but he managed — until the local doctor (Hal Holbrook) happened upon the two of them in Joseph's barn.

He advised Joseph not to continue the relationship, pointing out the 30–year difference in their ages.

And Joseph's mother (Julie Harris) knew what had been going on. "I don't know who you think you've been fooling," she said to him.

Well, he had been fooling Rosealee, for one. She found out about Joseph's relationship with the girl when, after Joseph's mother died, Rosealee took it upon herself to answer the sympathy cards — and one was a suggestive card from the girl. Rosealee confronted Joseph and stormed out on him.

And, at the end of the movie, Joseph and the major had a discussion about the girl. Or, at least, the start of one. He conceded that what had happened was probably more his daughter's idea than Joseph's, which it had been.

(I have often wondered if Busey's character inspired Chris Cooper's character in "American Beauty" a few years later. Both were military men who had teenage children who had become involved with — or appeared to have become involved with — an older neighbor going through a midlife crisis. Busey's character was much more restrained, but "American Beauty" was a different kind of movie in many ways. Busey's character wouldn't have worked in "American Beauty," and Cooper's character wouldn't have worked in "Carried Away."

(Cooper's character, of course, killed Kevin Spacey's character in the mistaken belief that he was involved in a homosexual relationship with Cooper's character's son. Busey's character's daughter actually was in a relationship with Hopper's character — and Busey and Hopper went hunting together, but Busey never threatened Hopper.)

The movie struck me as being a slice of life. Life's events rarely have neat endings in which everyone sees the lessons that were intended to be learned, and "Carried Away" was like that. At the end, Joseph and Rosealee seemed to have reconciled, but the audience was not sure what would become of them — or even what the moral of the story was.

Perhaps it was, as Joseph acknowledged, the power — and the lure — of being carried away. Nothing more and nothing less.

Saturday, March 26, 2016

The Agony of Victory



Niles (David Hyde Pierce): Maris and I used to play chess every Thursday night. Oh, how she loved the game.

Frasier (Kelsey Grammer): No wonder. The king is stationary while the queen has all the power.

The relationship between fathers and sons can be a complicated thing. I suppose the paternal relationship can be complicated for daughters, too, but I have no experience with that. I had one brother, and that was it. We have each had our challenging times with Dad — but at different times and for decidedly different reasons.

There seems to be more of a tendency to have a generational barrier between fathers and their children than mothers and their children — although, again, I have to plead ignorance when it comes to relationships between mothers and daughters.

Maybe it has something to do with the bond that forms between mother and child during the mother's pregnancy, but, in my experience, my peers' relationships with their mothers have usually been more relaxed than the relationships they have had with their fathers.

As a general rule. There are exceptions, of course.

The viewers never saw Frasier interact with his mother — except for one episode in which she was part of Frasier's fantasy (and an episode during the run of Cheers! when Frasier's mother made an appearance) — but it is not hard to conclude that both he and Niles had very loving relationships with their mother. They idolized her so much they followed her into psychiatry instead of following their father into detective work. In fact, in every conceivable way, they seemed to take after their mother.

They were both trying, almost all the time, to bond with their father, and they were always trying to outdo each other. What seemed to have come easily with their mother was like pulling teeth with their father. (How well I know that feeling.) In the episode of Frasier that aired on this night in 1996, "Chess Pains," Frasier had to deal with the mixed emotions sons often feel when they are in some kind of competition with their fathers — and they win.

Winning, though, wasn't Frasier's problem. Let me explain.

Initially Frasier wanted someone to play chess with him on an antique chess set he had acquired. But then after he got Martin (John Mahoney) to play with him, Frasier's focus changed when Martin started winning every time. Frasier couldn't understand it. He was clearly smarter than his father, and he was convinced that he was a superior player. How could he lose every time?

If you ever watched Frasier, you know how obsessive he could be, and he began to obsess about why his father won all the time. At first, he thought it was blind luck. But the more he thought about it — and the more input he got from his brother — the more convinced he became that he had been deliberately — albeit subconsciously — losing.

As Niles observed, it is a widely accepted belief that the moment of a boy's greatest joy — and his greatest sorrow — is when he beats his father for the first time.

But even armed with that knowledge and determined to finally win, Frasier still lost, making him more frustrated and more determined to defeat his father.

It got so bad that Frasier set off the smoke alarm late one night just to wake up his father so he could get him to play one more game. Martin was reluctant to do so, especially once he realized that Frasier's obsession wasn't just about losing. It was about losing to Martin.

Martin defended his success by pointing out that he had honed many of the skills that are valuable in chess through his work as a detective — such as analyzing clues and trying to stay a step ahead of the other guy.

He wasn't going to give Frasier another game — until Frasier said he would give Martin $5,000 if he won again.

That set up a high–stakes game in which both Frasier and Martin tried to distract the other into making bad moves. Ultimately, Frasier claimed his victory — and almost immediately began obsessing over whether the outcome was on the level.

Martin assured him he had given it his best shot and that Frasier had won fair and square. Frasier left his father's room for a few seconds, then peeked back in the doorway and, in a small, almost inaudible voice, he said, "I'm sorry I beat you, Dad."

In what has to be one of my favorite sub–plots in Frasier's 11–year run, Daphne (Jane Leeves) suggested to the recently separated Niles (David Hyde Pierce) that he might be less lonely if he got a dog. So he did — a rather high–strung greyhound that apparently bore a striking resemblance to Maris.

Frasier and Martin (John Mahoney) saw the resemblance, of course, but Niles didn't. All he knew was that the dog struck a familiar chord within him. Nevertheless, the way Niles doted on the dog and the way she ignored him truly was Niles' marriage in miniature. Even a casual Frasier fan must have seen that.

When Niles and the dog left, the three stood and stared at the doorway where he had been only seconds before.

"Am I the only one?" Daphne wanted to know.

"No," Frasier and Martin replied in unison.

"Does Dr. Crane have any idea?" Daphne asked.

Again, Martin and Frasier replied in unison. "No."

I thought it was a brilliant touch.

Had the episode focused strictly on the Martin–Frasier chess matches, it would have dissolved into a one–joke story. But the introduction of the Maris substitute kept interest from flagging.

In many ways, I thought "Chess Pains" was the best episode of what may have been Frasier's best season.

Saturday, March 12, 2016

Teaching an Etiquette Lesson



"Ah, there he is, the man who floats like a lepidoptera and stings like a hymenoptera."

Niles (David Hyde Pierce)

We've all been there. Well, I presume we have. I certainly have.

We've all found ourselves at the mercy of rude and inconsiderate people. Haven't we? Well, most of us have.

And, if we're honest with ourselves, most of us also have been the sources of rude and inconsiderate behavior as well.

No one, it seems to me, is immune either way. That's human nature, isn't it? Aren't we all at least a bit self–centered? And isn't that mostly what is at the heart of rude and inconsiderate behavior — as well as the belief that one has been its victim?

That seemed to be what Frasier (Kelsey Grammer) was discovering in the episode of Frasier — "High Crane Drifter" — that first aired on this night in 1996.

As it usually was with Frasier — and, no doubt, is with many people — it was the accumulation of several events that finally made him go ballistic.

First, someone took his parking space, and he had to park several blocks from the radio station. He wanted to go back downstairs during a station break and leave an angry note on the motorist's windshield. Roz (Peri Gilpin) favored letting the air out of his tires, but Frasier refused to respond in kind. Thank God a cooler head prevailed.

Then he went to a video store in search of a classic movie, but he was repeatedly ignored by the clerks — and then someone else who overheard his conversation with a decidedly disinterested clerk snapped up the only copy of the movie that Frasier wanted. That cooler head was thawing.

Upon his return to his apartment, Frasier was annoyed even more by a new neighbor, a heavy metal musician named Freddie Chainsaw who had moved into the penthouse and insisted on playing his music loudly enough to rattle the paintings and other works of art Frasier had on display. Frasier tried calling him to complain, but it did no good.

He was getting steamed now.

The straw that broke the camel's back came in the cafe when Niles (David Hyde Pierce) and Frasier tried to find a table on an extremely crowded day. They spotted one that was about to be vacated and politely stood and waited for the people who were sitting there to leave, but another patron slipped in and grabbed the table before Niles and Frasier could sit down.

Frasier scolded the customer, who obviously didn't care, so Frasier decided to give him "an etiquette lesson" and grabbed the patron and tossed him out of the cafe.

Frasier's revolutionary moment made the local papers — under the heading "The Crane Mutiny."

Frasier inspired Daphne (Jane Leeves), who had been tormented by a neighbor who kept removing her laundry from the washing machine and leaving it in a soggy pile on a counter in the laundry room. Daphne reported that she had taken off her new red panties and tossed them in with his whites.

Frasier was a bit uncomfortable with the praise he was receiving from the newspaper and his family, but then Freddie Chainsaw switched on his loud music and Frasier tried to call him again. All Frasier had to do was identify himself, and the music immediately went silent. It seems Freddie Chainsaw had read about "The Crane Mutiny" in the morning paper.

Frasier's radio listeners had read about it, too, and all the calls he received that day were about etiquette lessons that Frasier's listeners had been giving the inconsiderate people in their lives. Everyone was provoked about something, and many were retaliating in creative ways. One was annoyed by a leaf blower being used at 7 a.m. so he smashed the leaf blower against a tree. Another put some rotten shrimp in someone else's air conditioner. Still another sent a boxload of scorpions by FedEx. Still another set someone's lawn on fire.

Frasier scolded his listeners, one of whom accused him of having a double standard. He could respond when provoked, she said, but they could not.

And Frasier had to concede that his behavior, though not nearly as extreme, had been just as wrong. And he pledged to contact the man he had tossed from the cafe to apologize in person.

When they met at the cafe, though, the man had no intention of accepting Frasier's apology. He announced that he was suing him for assault.

But Niles got Frasier off the hook by provoking the man into pushing him, then made believe he had been knocked to the ground. When Frasier ran to see how he was, Niles whispered to him, "Countersuit."

Problem solved.

Frasier was impressed that Niles had made his tumble into a table seem so authentic and observed that Niles even gave the appearance of being in pain. "You have a tear in one of your eyes," Frasier said.

"I landed on a fork," Niles replied.

Tuesday, March 08, 2016

What Was It About 'Fargo'?



"Mind if I sit down? I'm carrying quite a load here."

Marge (Frances McDormand)

What is it, I have to ask, about "Fargo," which premiered on this day in 1996, that makes it one of my favorite movies?

I've seen other Coen brothers movies, and, to be perfectly honest, the story in "Fargo" doesn't strike me as being particularly remarkable when compared to those other movies.

I've seen William H. Macy in other movies, for that matter, and I think he is always good, no matter what kind of role he has been given to play — but I'm not sure I saw him in anything before I saw "Fargo."

The same is mostly true of Frances McDormand, who won Best Actress for her performance. I did see her in "Mississippi Burning" years before she made "Fargo," and I also saw her in "Short Cuts" before I saw "Fargo." She is consistently good.

Likewise, I had seen Steve Buscemi in movies before — "Reservoir Dogs," for example. I think he, too, is always good. His performance in "Fargo" was not an exception for him.

"Fargo" wasn't unique, nor was its cast.

And the supposed inspiration for the movie — a true story — wasn't unique, either.

However ...

"To watch it is to experience steadily mounting delight, as you realize the filmmakers have taken enormous risks, gotten away with them and made a movie that is completely original," wrote Roger Ebert, "and as familiar as an old shoe — or a rubbersoled hunting boot from Land's End, more likely."

McDormand played a pregnant police chief investigating a murder that she connected with the apparent kidnapping of the wife of a Minnesota car salesman (Macy) who had been having financial problems. No one else apparently knew about these financial difficulties. The idea was for the wife to be kidnapped and held for ransom by a couple of criminals (Steve Buscemi and Peter Stormare). The salesman's father–in–law was a wealthy man who would pay the ransom for his daughter's safe return.

The criminals were in on Macy's plot, you see. They would give the ransom money to Macy. In return the criminals would be paid half of the ransom money and a then–new vehicle — leaving Macy with more than enough money to pay off his debts.

Which led to an obvious question that Buscemi's character asked Macy in their first meeting, "Why don't you just ask him for the money?"

"Or your fucking wife, you know," chimed in Stormare's character.

"Well, it's all just part of this," Macy said in his smarmiest manner. "They don't know I need it, see. OK, so there's that. And even if they did, I wouldn't get it. So there's that on top then. See, these're personal matters."

However, as Ebert observed, "To describe the plot is to risk spoiling its surprises," and I feel compelled to, in Ebert's own words, "tread carefully."

On the surface, the plan seemed simple enough. But the film had an ample supply of that eccentric irony that is always present in Coen brothers movies; thus, there were many little twists and turns, which prodded Macy into what may have been the best performance of his career. It was worthy of Hitchcock; as Ebert described it, Macy was trapped in "the unbearable agony of a man who needs to think fast and whose brain is scrambled with fear, guilt and the crazy illusion that he can somehow still pull this thing off."

As I say, things just didn't go according to plan. Right from the start — the kidnapping itself didn't go smoothly. En route to the kidnappers' cabin hideout, they were stopped by a state trooper, who was shot and killed. Enter McDormand, who was chief of police in the town where the murder occurred. McDormand's character pieced everything together perfectly.

I thought her interrogation of two hookers who slept with Buscemi and Stormare, then hung around long enough to watch late&night TV with them, was hilarious, especially their Minnesota accents. Every time I see it, I remember an appearance by Minnesota native Lea Thompson on The Tonight Show around the time "Fargo" was in the theaters. She said she had been back to Minnesota and had talked with some of her old friends about the movie.

"Yah, but you know nobody talks like that," she said one of her friends had said to her. In truth, everyone in the movie talked like that.

If you haven't seen the movie, I will leave it to you to discover how McDormand figured out what had happened — and how, in the process, she applied increasing pressure to Macy's character, who was totally incompetent when it came to carrying out a crime.

As each new problem surfaced — for example, illegible serial numbers on nonexistent cars for which he was trying to get a car loan company to pay — he got caught tighter in that vise.

I'm really no closer to answering my original question: Why is "Fargo" one of my favorite movies?

I don't know, but, perhaps, Ebert came close to an answer when he wrote, "Films like 'Fargo' are why I love the movies."

Saturday, February 27, 2016

Leaps of Faith



Frasier (Kelsey Grammer): As a matter of fact, this day only comes around once every four years. You know, it's like a free day — a gift. We should do something special — be bold. It's leap year. Take a leap!

Martin (John Mahoney): You know, I was just about to say the same thing to you.

Monday will be Leap Day — the 29th day of February, a day that only rolls around every four years.

1996 was a Leap Year, too, and, in an episode that premiered on this day in 1996 ("Look Before You Leap"), Frasier (Kelsey Grammer) was challenging his radio listeners to take a leap of faith outside their comfort zones. He encouraged his family and friends to do the same.

It all began on the morning of Leap Day when Frasier uncharacteristically took Eddie for a walk. The weather was unseasonably warm, and it inspired him to urge his family and friends to take a leap, be bold, step outside their comfort zone.

He started with his father (John Mahoney) and Daphne (Jane Leeves). His father had a friend, Jimmy, who was born on Leap Day so he only had an actual birthday once every four years. It had been a ritual for Jimmy's friends to gather on Leap Day to celebrate, and Martin wanted to go, but it was in Montana. Frasier encouraged him to go. He said he would go if Daphne would also take a leap. She was always wondering if she should change her hairstyle. Martin said he would pay for it if she would just do it and stop whining about it. She said she would do it if he went to his buddy's birthday bash.

Niles (David Hyde Pierce) came over all bubbly. Apparently, his estranged wife Maris had let him know that she was in the mood for some lovin', and Niles was more than ready. He confided to Frasier that he had not had sex in six months.

"You've only been separated for three," Frasier observed.

"And your point would be?" Niles asked.

Frasier told Niles that what he and Maris really needed to do was talk through their problems. Sex would only cloud the issue, and he advised Niles not to do it. Niles was the only person who was not urged to take a leap for Leap Year.

A Leap Year challenge was born — and so was an idea. Frasier decided to challenge his radio listeners to take a leap.

He got things rolling with Roz (Peri Gilpin), his producer who was captivated by a young man she met on a bus. They had started to chat but then were separated before they could exchange phone numbers. Frasier thought Roz might be able to re–connect with this fellow if she told her story during his show, but she didn't want to — until Frasier observed, on the air, "Did you know that a woman over the age of 30 has less chance of getting married than of being killed in a terrorist attack?"

Roz capitulated and told the story of her chance meeting on a bus. She let it slip, though, that "I really liked you and thought you were cute" and was horrified at herself for saying she thought someone was cute. "Who am I? Marcia Brady?" she asked Frasier when they were off the air.

But Frasier's ploy seemed to work. Roz's young man came to the studio, with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, and things seemed to be going very well — until he let it slip that he was married.

Then Roz started hitting him with the bouquet.

Frasier had witnessed most of their reunion through the glass window separating the sound booth from the hallway, but he had turned away to talk into the microphone and missed seeing Roz strike her beau with the bouquet.

That was really the first clue that, like so many other times in his life, Frasier's advice was going to prove disastrous to those who heeded it.

Later, when Niles was helping Frasier practice for the challenging operatic aria he had promised to perform at the PBS Fundraising Drive, Martin came storming in. The plane he had been riding to his friend's birthday party had to make an emergency landing after a flock of geese flew into one of the engines. Martin described a harrowing 5,000–foot fall, followed by the passengers' hasty exit via emergency slide into a "sea of foam," as Martin described it.

That got Frasier to thinking that maybe his advice to people to take a leap had been ill–advised. And he started thinking that the aria might be a disaster, too.

At that point, Daphne came in. She was in tears. Her new hairstyle hadn't worked out. At all.

"Tell me the truth," Daphne said between sobs. "Is it as bad as I think it is?"

"How bad," Frasier asked haltingly, "do you think it is?"

Daphne was so upset she could only blurt out a couple of words at a time. "Mr. Maurice ... hair design ... 'trust me' ... children pointing ..."

She glared at Frasier. "Your fault!"

Niles had been wavering, but Daphne's experience was enough for him. He wasn't going to follow Frasier's advice. He was going to be with Maris.

"No one who has followed your little take a leap philosophy has ended up even remotely better," he told Frasier. "I'm going to Maris."

"You will rue the day," Frasier told him.

"I don't care," Niles replied. "Niles gotta have it!"

By that time, Frasier was almost convinced. He was convinced when he was at the PBS studio and became aware of just how challenging his own leap was going to be. So he retreated to his familiar "Buttons and Bows," the song he had sung at the fundraiser for a couple of years.

His problem was that he forgot the words, and his performance was its own cautionary tale for a Leap Year challenge gone awry.

The last thing the viewers saw was Martin and Daphne sitting in the living room watching a video tape of Frasier's awful performance — and having a good laugh over and over. Until Eddie ran off with the remote.

Saturday, February 20, 2016

An Offer You Can't Refuse



Niles (David Hyde Pierce): [Maris] drove up on the sidewalk, and when the police ran her name through the computer, they found quite a little backlog of unpaid parking tickets.

Frasier (Kelsey Grammer): What else would you expect from a woman who thinks her chocolate allergy entitles her to park in a handicapped space?

When the episode "A Word to the Wiseguy" premiered on Frasier on this day in 1996, Niles (David Hyde Pierce) was excited.

In fact, he was elated because, for the first time since his separation from his never–seen spouse Maris, she needed him to do something for her. Need is the key word here. It wasn't, as Frasier said, a case of Maris wanting something from him, and Niles made that distinction.

(Now, before I proceed, I should say that I have always thought the writing on Frasier was one of the sharpest I have heard on television, but the dialogue in this episode was especially clever.)

"This is my chance to show her how necessary I really am to her," Niles said, "and all I have to do is fix one small problem."

"What's the problem?" his father (John Mahoney) asked.

"She's wanted by the police," Niles replied.

Maris had been driving past a shoe store when she saw a pair of shoes that caught her eye — and Niles casually reminded the family of the influence such a sighting could have on Maris' hand–eye coordination. She veered onto the sidewalk. A police check of her name found an apparently considerable number of unpaid parking tickets.

Maris hadn't appeared for her summons so a warrant had been issued for her arrest. By asking him for help, Niles believed he saw an opportunity for reconciliation in Maris' predicament.

Maris had always called her father "Commodore." No problem was too great for him to resolve. When Maris spoke to Niles about her legal problem, she asked him, "Will you be my Commodore?"

Niles needed his father, a former policeman, to square things with his buddies on the force. Martin, however, wouldn't go along.

So Niles had to resort to more drastic measures — which meant conferring with a "fixer" who had been recommended to him by Roz (Peri Gilpin).

The three of them — Niles, Frasier and the mobster — met at the cafe at midnight, and Niles showed the fixer a list of Maris' arrest charges.

"Ignoring a summons, speeding, reckless endangerment," the mobster recited. "Your wife sounds like a very carefree lady."

"She's ounces of fun," Frasier said in yet another reference to Maris' weight.

The fixer fixed the matter, and Niles asked him how much he owed. The fixer said there was no charge. "I was in a position to help you," he said. "Perhaps someday you'll be in a position to help me."

Niles didn't realize how soon the wiseguy would be seeking that favor.

Well, I guess it was soon. The viewer never knew how much time had elapsed, only that Niles and Frasier came in to Frasier's apartment after apparently competing in a squash match — to discover that Jerome (Harris Yulin) was chatting amiably with Martin and Daphne (Jane Leeves).

Jerome was there because his fiancee of eight years refused to set a wedding date. He was upset about it, Jerome said. "It also upsets my mother, whose comments on the subject are frequent and vivid."

Jerome wanted Frasier to talk to her and persuade her to marry him. Frasier wasn't sure he was comfortable doing that. After all, Frasier was concerned — as always — about his ethics.

"I've heard your show," Martin told him. "One more piece of half–assed advice isn't going to kill you. Jerome, on the other hand ..."

The mobster's girlfriend called Frasier's show. She recited a laundry list of her complaints before going right to the heart of the matter. She had always wanted to be a "career woman," but Jerome wouldn't permit her to work. She begged Frasier to tell her what he thought "because I really, really respect you."

And ethically minded Frasier could not tell her to marry Jerome. "Run," he advised her. "Save yourself. Do not marry this man."

Then, after concluding the conversation, Frasier told the listening audience, "This is Dr. Frasier Crane saying 'Good night,' and see you, God willing, tomorrow."

Later that day Frasier went to the cafe, and Niles joined him.

"I heard you on the radio today," Niles said. "I thought what you did was noble."

Then after a pause, Niles asked, "To what South American nation will you be fleeing?"

"Oh, like I'd tell you," Frasier replied. "One minute of interrogation and you would crack like a Jordan almond!"

About that time Jerome showed up. He did not think Frasier had been noble. He was displeased and ordered some hot milk.

"When I'm displeased I get acid in my stomach, Dr. Crane," Jerome explained.

"Believe me," Frasier replied, "the last thing I want to do is displease you ... or to hear the words 'acid' and 'Dr. Crane' in the same sentence."

But how could he have advised otherwise, he asked. Jerome's girlfriend had said that he cheated on her.

Jerome pointed out that she had said she suspected him of cheating, but he insisted he hadn't cheated.

Frasier then brought up Brandy's complaint about not being permitted to work. Jerome acknowledged there was truth in that. It was also true that he had called in favors from friends to get Brandy employed at more than a dozen jobs over the years.

"She lost all of them," Jerome said.

"So you're saying she's had trouble finding her niche?" Frasier asked hopefully.

"I'm saying she's a dodo," Jerome replied. "Now you may love a dodo. You may think the dodo is beautiful. You may even wish to marry the dodo. But you do not encourage a dodo to fly."

Losing jobs, Jerome said, made Brandy unhappy. "So for her sake I said, 'No more jobs.' But now in order to convince her to marry me I've had to reverse this policy."

She had agreed to marry him if he got her a job, Jerome told Frasier. But it couldn't be any job. "A job that she can never lose. A job where, if she burns the place down, they will apologize to her for having made it so flammable."

And it was decided that Niles had to be the one to offer her such a job.

I guess it was only fair. Jerome, after all, had done the original favor for Niles, not Frasier.

The viewing audience got a glimpse of the results as the episode drew to a close.

The setting was Frasier's apartment. Frasier came into the main area wearing his bathrobe. Daphne told him Niles had called to tell him their squash court was reserved for 11 a.m. Frasier said he had told Niles he wasn't available until noon and started to call Niles' office. Martin told him to put the conversation on speaker. The audience soon found out why.

Brandy was answering the phone at Niles' office, complete with the pronunciation puh–sychi–atrist.


Frasier identified himself, and Brandy said she would put him on hold. The next thing the viewers heard was a dial tone.

Saturday, February 13, 2016

Clearing the Air



Frasier (Kelsey Grammer): She's back. The scourge of my existence!

Niles (David Hyde Pierce): Strange, I usually get some sign when Lilith is in town: Dogs forming into packs, blood weeping down the wall.

Frasier: I'm talking about ... Diane Chambers!

Niles: (to the intercom) Lucille, send Mr. Carr home.

Frasier (Kelsey Grammer) could be very philosophical, capable of deep thoughts. It was one of his better traits.

I always thought he proved that when, in the first season of the Frasier series, he tried to console a young widow who couldn't come to terms with the sudden death of her husband at a young age. After agreeing that it wasn't fair that some people who are in excellent physical shape nevertheless die young while others who smoke and never eat appropriately live into their 80s and 90s, Frasier told her that all one can do is live for the little joys that life affords us.

That was one of those moments when Frasier was wise and articulate. His words were poignant, and they seemed to explain the unexplainable. As a psychiatrist, I'm sure he was proud of his words. They were words he probably should have applied to his own life more often — like, for example, in the episode that aired for the first time on this night in 1996, "The Show Where Diane Comes Back."

Diane, of course, was played by Shelley Long — as she was originally in the series Cheers! that launched Frasier in 1993. Frasier was a character on Cheers! I believe he was originally intended to be a guest on a few episodes, but he was so well received that the producers made him a regular. That didn't set well with Long. She didn't like the Frasier character and lobbied to have him removed. Obviously, she didn't succeed.

Allow me to digress for a moment — but not entirely because this relates to Frasier's observation about living for the little joys that life affords us.

One of the little joys that life affords me is the work I do with journalism students who staff the weekly newspaper at the local community college. This semester I have been talking with one of the reporters who is discovering the Frasier series because of things I have told him about it. I don't know if he has seen the episode that made its debut 20 years ago tonight, but I know he is familiar with the image you can see at the top of this post. It was the moment when Frasier first saw Diane at the radio station.

He went racing across town to his brother's office — where Niles was in the middle of a session. Niles tried to help Frasier confront some of the demons that had tormented him since Diane left him at the altar many seasons before — but Frasier could only obsess about how he was going to rub his success in Diane's face when he had her over to his apartment for dinner.

But Diane threw him a curve. No matter how Frasier tried to impress Diane — with the fabulous view from his apartment or the expensive wine he served — she managed to top him in an almost casual manner.

When Frasier offered her a glass of an expensive (and, therefore, exclusive) bottle of wine, her response was, "Oh, good, I always keep a bottle of that around myself."

If you have seen many of the Cheers! episodes, Diane and Frasier were never really on the same page even though they liked to tell each other that they were. They had many of the same tastes, liked many of the same things. But they were seldom truly in harmony.

Nothing had really changed when they were reunited in Seattle. Diane came to Seattle not to rekindle the relationship but to seek Frasier's financial assistance with the production of a play she had written. Frasier, on the other hand, was obsessed with the past, having several unresolved issues, many of which stemmed from times when he jumped to false conclusions — and anyone with any familiarity with Frasier's character knows how prone he was to jumping to conclusions.

I guess that was always a problem for Diane and Frasier. They always assumed things about each other and, in the grand tradition of assumptions, were almost always wrong in their assumptions. It was that way in Boston, and it was still that way in Seattle. They never seemed to be direct with each other; on the rare occasions when they were direct with each other, they were direct long after they should have been.

In this episode — which Kelsey Grammer says allowed him to mend some fences with Shelley Long — Diane was pretty direct, considering that she didn't think (or said she didn't) of their romantic history — or what Frasier might have been thinking when she popped up out of the blue.

I guess Diane and Frasier really weren't any different from most people. It has been my observation that most misunderstandings, most assumptions could be avoided if people took a few minutes to mentally put themselves in the place of the other person. What would I do if I found myself in his/her shoes? Situations aren't the same for everyone. Nor are motivations. Or perspectives.

That is one of the first lessons one learns in the newspaper business. It's probably the same for police officers and judges — heck, anyone who has to deal with people, I suppose, which means just about everyone.

More often than not, there are more than two sides to a story.

And folks who were familiar with Cheers! story lines knew how many sides there were in Diane's life's stories. In fact, the play she wanted to produce in Seattle was autobiographical, based on her experiences at the bar in Boston. And in Diane's eyes, she was the center of everything in the bar.

In most ways, the play was more than a little literal. All the characters were duplicates of the characters at the bar in Boston, but their names had been altered. They were still recognizable, though. The character who was modeled after Frasier was named Franklin. The character modeled after Sam the bartender was named Stan. Norm was named Ned. Carla was named Darla. Diane's character was named Mary Anne.

But there were some obvious things that demonstrated vividly how Diane falsely perceived her relationship with her environment. For example, Norm was the one who was greeted by a unanimous "Norm!" from everyone in the bar when he came in. In Diane's play, Ned received no such greeting. In fact, Mary Anne was the one who was greeted with a resounding "Mary Anne!"

Whether in real life or on the stage, Diane falsely perceived herself to be at the center of everything.

Frasier could barely contain himself when he watched a dress rehearsal of the play.

Especially when he saw the on–stage reference to Diane's decision to leave him at the altar.

Mary Anne mentioned it to Franklin, who told her, "You know I hold no ill will toward you for that."

At that point, the actor playing Franklin told Diane he felt awkward with that part of the dialogue. How was he supposed to feel about being left at the altar?

Frasier stood up and attempted to enlighten him, wrapping up by telling Franklin that his character had "made a pact with Beelzebub — and her name is Mary Anne!" Frasier turned and strode resolutely toward the exit with the sound of the cast's applause ringing in his ears and a chastened Diane watching

Frasier returned to the theater later and had a rare heart–to–heart conversation with Diane in which she tried to apologize for misleading him, and he told her that wasn't necessary, that he had misled himself.

"The things I said just needed to be said," he told her. "In retrospect, I'm reasonably sure that you are not the devil — although he does have the power to assume pleasing shapes."

It was another great episode in a season that was filled with great episodes. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I am inclined to believe that Frasier's third season was its absolute best.