Original Airdate: December 11th, 1971 on CBS
Back in the 1970s, All In The Family was a big deal. It wasn’t just because it was a ratings smash, though it was the number one show on TV for five years running. It was incredibly controversial in an era when any individual television show had a much larger slice of the zeitgeist. Sure, shows like Game of Thrones and True Detective get a lot of buzz, but consider this: the most recent season finale of Thrones enjoyed the highest ratings pull the series has drawn in its history with nearly nine million viewers. During the season this episode of Family aired, it was averaging 34 million a week. Take all the hype you heard about the Red Wedding and imagine four times that many people talking about Archie Bunker’s toilet. The show’s astronomical success made Norman Lear the de facto king of the 1970s sitcom, and he became known for a slate of hilarious sitcoms that took on social issues from varying sides of class, racial and gender divides. Sanford and Son, One Day At A Time, The Jeffersons and Good Times were also big hits, and as it happens, this particular episode of Family was the jumping-off point for another successful spinoff in the form of Maude.
- Strong characters. At first blush, the cause for controversy is obvious. Family patriarch Archie Bunker (Carroll O’Connor) was a TV antihero before it was cool. He comes across in 2016 as the raging id of a Trump supporter. Still, even in 1971, people were understandably uncomfortable about having people yell racial slurs in a primetime sitcom. But Archie isn’t a Cartman-esque sociopath. He’s a three-dimensional character who displays real depth and humanity alongside knee-jerk bigotry and reactionary vitriol. Here we get to hear about his typically crude courtship of his wife, Edith (Jean Stapleton.) It involves, among other things, Archie putting straws up his nose and pretending to be a walrus. Sure, he’s mean to Edith and he yells at her and calls her names…but he makes her laugh. It definitely doesn’t excuse his behavior, but it does make him seem like a real person.
- Great cast, especially Bea Arthur. O’Connor and Stapleton are gems as always—I challenge you not to laugh at the sequence where Edith is timing a minute by counting 60 Mississippi’s, loses count, and starts to sing the Minute Waltz—but the real star here is Maude, as played by the indomitable Arthur (The Golden Girls.) Her dynamic with O’Connor is perfect, and I love the role Maude plays in the story as well. Not many people can successfully hold their own up against Archie’s endless supply of bluster, but Maude shuts him down, and it is perfect. She makes a pointedly menacing comment about Edith—”I’d kill for that girl”—and O’Connor’s reaction is spot on. Ever the asshole, he eventually comes back with a deliciously nasty comment about how she already buried two husbands, but despite the fact that he always needs to get the last word, the real reason he spends so much of the first act fulminating about Maude’s impending visit is that he knows he’s met his match, and Arthur is more than up for the job.
- Funny. The comedic genius of this show is such that it’s not exactly easy to point to a handful of lines or gags out of context that make it solid gold material. It’s a holistic experience. So much of the comedy comes from a stellar cast performing well-written characters in an interesting dynamic. When Maude rouses Archie by cheerfully singing “Good Morning” from Singin’ in the Rain, it tells us something about Maude’s unique variety of passive-aggression, and it’s also funny for three different reasons: Archie’s miserable reaction, the fact that Maude is being a dick but has plausible deniability because she’s being jaunty about it, and because Bea Arthur sells the hell out of the bit. The strength of the comedy is only enhanced by the fact that the writers aren’t afraid to have the characters openly adhere to distinct political viewpoints. In the third act Archie and Maude have a climactic argument about Maude’s beloved Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Of Eleanor, Archie fulminates that “she was the one who discovered the coloreds in this country. We never knew they was there!” This line is great because in addition to exposing the foolishness of its underlying ideology, it’s entirely plausible that the inarticulate Archie would say this without realizing how ridiculous it sounds. Archie genuinely believes that the world has been made a worse place thanks to women and minorities creating a culture of grievance, and while William F. Buckley might agree, it’s clear that the emperor has no clothes when Archie puts forth the issue in his inimitable style.
- Politics. And let’s all just take a moment and appreciate the fact that this sitcom spends a full three minutes of its runtime on a heated shouting match about FDR’s legacy. These days television shows are mostly apolitical. Producers want characters that “everyone” can relate to, so those characters don’t have weird sexual, religious, political, ethnic, national or gender identities, unlike the people you probably know in your real life. Of course, the end result is very few people can actually relate. In real life, political beliefs are a core aspect of most people’s identity. The FDR argument is entertaining, but it also provides refreshing insight into Maude and Archie’s respective worldviews. It’s also quite novel. Part of the reason this show was such a hit was because it was unlike anything else on TV. Nobody was talking about the Yalta Conference on Mister Ed.
- Bathroom humor. Okay, a big part of what makes Archie Bunker who he is is that he’s unapologetically crude. It’s in the show’s DNA. That still doesn’t make it particularly funny when we’re all meant to enjoy a good laugh when Edith gives Archie Milk of Magnesia instead of Kaopectate. You get it?! Because it’s going to make him shit more! And he’s already got diarrhea! That’s not to say this sort of thing is entirely hopeless. It can work if it’s reasonably well-integrated into the story. Maude gives Archie a delicious breakfast of cream of wheat with cheese (“It’s light, but it binds,” she reassures him) but it doesn’t help. He angrily declares that Maude was wrong again as he rushes to the bathroom. It’s pretty choice that he’s making it a point to one-up her in the middle of his intestinal distress, and the fact that he’s a jerk makes his mild suffering funnier, and “it’s light, but it binds” is an intrinsically amusing phrase, especially coming out of Bea Arthur. Nevertheless, I could have done with less about Archie’s bowels.
Final Judgment: 9/10. Family is unquestionably classic television. It lands comfortably in any top ten list of the best shows of all time, and “Cousin Maude’s Visit” was the entry TV Guide chose for Family’s ninth-place berth on their Top 100 Episodes list. Nevertheless, much like Don Draper, Sterling Archer or Frank Underwood, Archie is decidedly an acquired taste.
NEXT TIME: I cover our first Australian offering when I review the YA hit Dance Academy.