Showing posts with label Allan Arbus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Allan Arbus. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 09, 2016

Analysis of a Letter



"As you pointed out, Sigmund, there's a link between anger and wit. Anger turned inward is depression. Anger turned sideways is Hawkeye."

Sidney (Allan Arbus)

In the episode of M*A*S*H that first aired on this night in 1976, "Dear Sigmund," Dr. Sidney Freedman (Allan Arbus) was making one of his frequent visits to the 4077th. There really were times during the series when Sidney seemed to be a glutton for punishment.

But there was a method to his madness. He believed "there's something special" about the unit — a healing quality — so, when he went there one night to play poker, he wound up staying for weeks trying to resolve problems he was having with a case that had turned out badly. After working with a patient for a long time — and believing they were on the verge of a breakthrough — Freedman's patient "listened to the voices" in his head that had been telling him to end his life.

It was a "Richard Cory" kind of tale. At least it struck me that way. I don't know if Sidney's patient was wealthy or not; I only know he had been having problems and was seeking psychiatric help.

Anyway, in a letter Sidney was writing to Sigmund Freud, he referred to the compound as a "kind of spa," reporting that "the waters are pretty good here." (I presume that would only be if they were mixed with some of Hawkeye's and B.J.'s homemade hooch.)

Speaking of Hawkeye (Alan Alda), Freedman wrote about how Hawkeye had made the rounds in post–op one day "with a personality that had split 2 for 1" — and a pair of diver's flippers on his feet.

Most of Sidney's letter dealt with different ways the M*A*S*H folks found to occupy themselves during their down time — one of which was the poker game. By far the thing that occupied most people's thoughts and actions was a wave of practical jokes that had been sweeping the compound. No one knew who the practical jokester was or who might be his next victim.

The viewer always knew when the jokester had struck, though. One time a bench in the mess hall tipped over when someone sat at the end of it. Another time Col. Potter (Harry Morgan) got black rings around his eyes after using binoculars.

The joker turned out to be B.J. (Mike Farrell). Sidney found out when he discovered B.J. filling a hole in the ground with water. Frank Burns (Larry Linville) had been digging the holes to be prepared for air raids.

"As loud as you can," B.J. said to Sidney after enlisting his help in the practical joke, "shout 'Air raid!'" Which he did — and Frank came running out of the tent and dove into the hole, not realizing it was full of water.

On what was apparently a very cold first day of spring, the folks in the compound gathered outside for a brief ceremonial unveiling of a cherry blossom they had been trying to grow. They quickly covered it up and returned it to a makeshift greenhouse where it had been kept — and apparently would remain until springlike weather arrived to rejuvenate the frozen earth.

Sidney felt rejuvenated enough by that point to leave, observing as he did that happiness is "like springtime at M*A*S*H. If you can't see it or find it, you just go ahead and make it."

Which is pretty good advice.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Pull Down Your Pants and Slide on the Ice



Hawkeye (Alan Alda): Sydney, what's the psychiatric basis for gambling?

Dr. Freedman (Allan Arbus): Sex.

Hawkeye: Why?

Dr. Freedman: I don't know. They told me to say it. Sex is why we gamble, sex is why we drink, sex is why we give birth.

Hawkeye: Thank you, doctor.

Dr. Freedman: I'm taking a $5 chip. That was a house call.

It is hardly a revelation to say that M*A*S*H was an iconic television series with an ensemble cast that ran circles around any other ensemble cast on any other TV show before or since.

The ensemble changed over the years. It was quite different at the end than it was at the beginning, but that was not a bad thing. McLean Stevenson, Larry Linville, Wayne Rogers and Gary Burghoff were missed but not terminally. The special genius of the writers was to create characters that were different and yet similar to the ones they replaced.

That might not have worked so well for other shows. But M*A*S*H was special. Anyone who ever watched it knows how special it was.

But it is far more rare to hear praise for the recurring characters who truly helped make it what it was. Without them — characters like the unit's early benefator, Gen. Clayton; the paranoid intelligence officer, Col. Flagg, and the affable psychiatrist, Dr. Sydney Freedman — I seriously doubt that M*A*S*H would have lasted 11 years.

With the noteworthy exception of a sluggish first season, though, the show was in the Top 10 for nearly its entire run.

It has been 30 years since M*A*S*H's still record–holding final episode. Many stories were told that night — and there were times when it was a tearjerker, especially in the last half hour — but the most moving may have been the one in which Sydney treated Hawkeye, who was in a psychiatric hospital following the death of a Korean child for which Hawkeye blamed himself.

Allan Arbus played Sydney with just the right mix of wisdom, compassion and humor in a dozen episodes, including the last one. He appeared in other things during his life — which ended last Friday but was confirmed publicly today — but, if fans linked him to any of the roles he played during his life, it was his role as Sydney Freedman. Hands down.

I doubt that anyone else could have played that role as well as he did. It was as if the role had been written with a picture of Arbus hanging on the wall for inspiration. He really looked the part.

But he also acted the part.

Arbus was 95 at the time of his death, but he will always be the middle–aged psychiatrist in khaki for the millions who watched him at the time — and the millions of fans M*A*S*H has gained in the last three decades — due, in no small part, I am sure, to Arbus' contribution.

The last time we saw him as Dr. Freedman, he was giving the folks in the O.R. the same advice he had given them in an earlier episode:
"Ladies and gentlemen, take my advice. Pull down your pants and slide on the ice!"

That's still pretty good advice.