Review: "Murphy Brown" returns, not for the better



[ad_1]

When Murphy Brown (Candice Bergen) returns to Phil's Bar (now led by Tyne Daly as Phil's sister, Phyllis), the studio audience applauds. Why would not they be? The original "Murphy Brown" was a cultural milestone and Ms. Bergen's acidic performance as a brilliant and abrasive television journalist was a classic form.

In another episode, Murphy's former colleague, Jim Dial (Charles Kimbrough), tells him not to yield to the pressure of interviewing the white nationalist Blake Ed Shannon (David Costabile, wearing several shirts so as not to miss the rhyme Steve Bannon). "You do not have to give the same time to someone who claims that Tom Hanks is running a ghost government," Jim says. Once again, the public applauds.

Later, Murphy meets Shannon at the bar and immolates him in an argument, telling him that he will end up with "a sad, sad, sad and sad dinosaur that has died out".

The audience applauds and applauds again.

You see the motive. The revival, starting on Thursday on CBS, is fiery and eager to meet the Trumpian moment. But it has become the kind of sitcom that prefers applause to laughter. (Or at least it's for clipping, the kind of audience laughter like badges to validate their beliefs.)

You can not say that "Murphy Brown" lacks timing. The clash of exasperated women and condescending men has fueled many past episodes, not to mention the character's meta-quarrel with Vice President Dan Quayle, who attacked the series in 1992 when his character became a single mother .

From now on, the conversations, the resistance and the persistence in the locker room are daily news. On the day the show returns, Christine Blasey Ford must present to Congress charges of sexual assault against Supreme Court candidate Brett M. Kavanaugh, recalling the hearings of Anita Hill and Clarence Thomas as the original series satirizes in the episode "Send in the Clowns. "The culture has almost sent a bat signal in the shape of Murphy.

The extended return episode begins the night of the 2016 election, prompting Murphy to come out of retirement and host a morning news show on cable. She brings together the group from her former series "FYI": Frank Fontana (Joe Regalbuto), the investigative journalist; Corky Sherwood (Faith Ford, her timing still alive), a former ingenue herself confronted with age discrimination; and Miles Silverberg (Grant Shaud), still asleep.

[[[[Learn more about Renaissance of "Murphy Brown".]

Politics has not changed everything since the Bush-Clinton years. The television is different. The first "Murphy Brown" was concerned by the end of the 20th century that television news mingled in infotainment. Now, it's an opinion and a machine of anger without stopping. Serious news is attacked as "false" by the Oval Office. And Murphy is opposed to his own son, Avery (Jake McDorman), starting a series in the same time slot on conservative Wolf Network (replacing another canid).

There are reminders and fan services – the recurring joke on Murphy's unreliable chain of assisters comes back. But the first episode also relies on the jokes of "Murphy's tech-savvy," as if she had been not only retired but frozen in a block of ice. His antique keyboard phone surprises Pat Patel (Nik Dodani), the social media specialist. (Yes, there's a joke about people who assume he's the social media specialist because he's an American Indian.)

Twitter inspires a hearty laugh, a wild echo of Roseanne Barr's brief return: "Think before you tweet," warns Avery Murphy. "The shows have been canceled for less."

Murphy quickly mastered the new medium, winning a flame war with @realdonaldtrump. She masters the morning television and the fights with the administration and the brass of her own network. "Murphy Brown" clearly means that Murphy still has it. But the show itself is complicated, combining dated sitcom rhythms with sermons.

The original Murphy was heroic not because she had never been wrong, but because she was talented, uncompromising and imperfect. She put the pilot of the series on the rebound of rehabilitation, and her arrival in category 5 was a model of establishment of economic character.

The debate – whether it's better to challenge bigots or deny them a platform – is important. But substitute Bannon is so caricatural that he is not a threat. The show ensures that Murphy wins his argument in a solid and satisfying way, but this reduces the stakes.

Perhaps the best part of the new version is Murphy's relationship with Avery, Wolf News' "token liberal" and Murphy's new roommate. It's an interesting choice (even though Wolf's actual analogue is not so eager to give morning broadcasts to non-conservatives). Their differences are not left-right "Crossfire" confrontations, but delicate exchanges on confrontation and incrementalism.

This is the only area in which it seems that this "Murphy Brown" is trying something new, imagining what would be the Murphy of 2018 rather than realize the desire to teleport a sitcom legend on time current.

Not that we can not use a little. There is a net boost to hear, in the air of CBS, a zinger on the fall of the sexual harassment of its host, Charlie Rose. But somewhere in the translation, "Murphy Brown" has become the kind of sitcom you're kidding about, not because you can not help it, but because you think you should do it.

[ad_2]
Source link