Yes, it's a boob tube tragedy, what's happened to my favorite sitcom news team. Remember the good old days of "Murphy"? I know, it's an excruciating mental stretch, but try. What you might recall is the sharp, witty story of a thirty-pushing-forty-something newswoman. She's a recovering alcoholic. She's hapless in love. However, she's Murphy Brown, and America loves her. The supporting cast was wonderful, and the writing of each episode was always on the money, whether it was written by series creator Diane English, or talents like current "Frasier" authors Sy Dukane and Denise Moss. But it was Candice Bergen that was the showstopper. English said that in a short time, Bergen became Murphy Brown, and she was right. Murphy was a character that, despite her celebrity status, every viewer could relate to in some way. Bergen crafted a character with a tough as nails exterior, and a very vulnerable heart. She would squabble with everyone, from her house painter Eldin (Robert Pastorelli), to the new hotshot producer of her newsmagazine, "FYI", Miles Silverberg (Grant Shaud). In between the laughs in and around the newsroom, we'd learn more and more about Murphy, and perhaps, about ourselves.
Then, Murphy got pregnant. Ironically, this plot twist brought about the pinnacle of the show's popularity, thanks to Dan Quayle's drubbing of a single motherhood storyline. In fact, however, the birth of Murphy's son, Avery, marked the beginning of a creative collapse the show has never been able to recover from. English, who came up with the baby storyline in the first place, left the show immediately after the birth episode, perhaps sensing the dead end she had led her heroine into. Gary Dontzig and Steven Peterman took over the show. Perfect. Now that practically all of America was in a "Murphy" frenzy, we had two producers at the helm who had no clue where to take the show next. One week, it would be Murphy and Avery, the next week, no Avery at all. The writers forgot that they had the finest supporting cast in television at their disposal. They brought in Mr. Quantam Leap himself, Scott Bakula, as Murphy's love interest. Of course! How come we didn't think of this before? When you think of hilarious comedy, you think of Scott Bakula. He created a character that was stiffer than Al Gore. Strike one.
By this time, Pastorelli's Eldin left the show. OK, let's bring in an acid tounged MTV-like reporter named McGovern. The character was so out of place that it lasted for all of five or six episodes. Strike two.
Oh, I know! Let's get Paul Reubens (aka Pee-Wee Herman) as a deranged network mail boy! Reubens' character was deranged alright, but not in that deranged, funny kind of way. That's strike three.
But, wait a minute. "Murphy"'s still at bat. Shaud left a year ago. Faith Ford as Corky Sherwood has gone from dumb to average intelligence, and it's hurt the chemistry. Newsman Jim Dial (Charles Kimbrough) used to be a terrific deadpan character to Murphy's stinging barbs. Now, he just sits there. Period. Frank Fontana (Joe Regalbuto), another one of English's inspired creations, hasn't had a good storyline for two seasons. Garry Marshall, in a recurring role as network executive Gene Lansing, is funny, but also has little to do And the new addition? Lily Tomlin as new producer Kay Carter-Shepley. Tomlin is the only one I feel sorry for. She has done all she can with mediocre material. She deserves better. Still, the Kay-Murphy relationship is nowhere near as funny as the Miles-Murphy war.
The main reason "Murphy Brown" stinks this year? That would be the kindergarten factor. You know, the way every episode has Murphy stoop to some Kindergarten-ish level to get what she wants. She'll do something sneaky and then say "Frank did it!". It's then up to Teacher Tomlin to settle five-year old Murphy down. This, using a phrase Murphy coined, "crap-ola" doesn't even belong on Saturday morning cartoons, let alone a supposedly sophisticated sitcom.
Even after all of this, I emphatically blame Candice Bergen for this disaster. Shaud was leaving after last season, and the show was beyond its glory days. It was up to her, as an executive producer, to gracefully call it quits. Instead, here she stands almost one year later, with a beaming smile in each episode, as if she's never had more fun than trading these flat one-liners with real-life chum Tomlin.
Candice, this show was revolutionary, and so was your character. It won two Best Comedy Emmys, and you won five statuettes of your own. The time had come to leave the news desk. Shame on you.
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