TZ Legacy: I have to move this to the top section because I’m not sure I can last to the bottom section.
Nutshell: In The Bard, an hour-long 4th season TZ episode, insufferable man-child Julius Moomer summons the ghost of William Shakespeare to be his co-writer. In this 14-minute-but feels-like-an-hour episode, insufferable man-child Maury Winkler makes an imprecise wish and ends up as William Shakespeare’s co-writer.
Uber-annoying James Coco (Winkler) is pursued down a busy city street by equally annoying but at least amusing Avery Schreiber. [1] Winkler is a writer of failed plays and rent checks. Schreiber, his fish-monging landlord, not unreasonably, would like his rent paid with a boffo check. Less NSF, more SRO.
Coco is working on a play with his partner Harry. They have partnered up on 17 plays in 22 years, but somehow success has eluded them. Winkler says all he wants is “an office that doesn’t smell like low tide.” A good line made better by the fact that his landlord actually is a fish-monger.
As Harry is dictating a death scene to Winkler, he begins having chest pains. For some reason, he continues dictating even as he is clutching his heart (but sometimes, his throat). This is not played for laughs like Winkler misinterprets his pain; it is just pointless. They are going for a fun romp here, though, so I can live with it. Unfortunately, while Bob Dishy as Harry does play it as broad comedy, James Coco plays the scene like an Adderall-abusing chimp in an elementary school play. No expression is too tortured, no movement is too exaggerated, no line-reading is too hammy, and for some reason, he seems to be typing with one hand like Edmond Valier.[2]
Harry falls to the ground. He pulls an amulet out of his ass — thankfully figuratively, not literally — and tells Winkler to make a wish for him to survive. Seems the amulet is only good for one wish per customer, and Harry squandered his wish to survive a plane crash in the Burmese Jungle. Instead, Winkler dawdles until Harry croaks and then wishes for “a new partner, the best playwright ever.”
Winkler is shocked to find himself transported to the home of William Shakespeare. [3] Shakespeare is having a little writer’s block, and Winkler suggests a play called Hamlet. There is some amusing business by Shakespeare hearing this wrong as Hamnet and being baffled. The gag is not explained, but makes me curious: Did viewers back then know Shakespeare had a son named Hamnet? Was the writer giving the audience that much credit? That might be the most unbelievable thing in this episode.
Winkler tells Shakespeare the story of Hamlet. Shakespeare then plagiarizes that and other plays. Not all that far off from what I’ve heard. As the follow-up to Hamlet was Troilus and Cressida, maybe this was not such a great partnership for Shakespeare. [4]
If you can tolerate James Coco, there is a lot to like here. Avery Schreiber was always a hoot, Bob Dishy plays it perfectly, and there are some genuine laughs in the script. For me, the whole production is torpedoed by Coco, though. Your mileage may vary.
Post-Post:
- [1] Schreiber, German for writer, would have been an appropriate character name for Coco.
- [2] The noted masturbater. I mean, he masturbated a lot.
- [3] Dishy also portrays Shakespeare. I’m not sure the point of that, but he plays both parts much better than Coco.
- [4] It appears they wisely set aside T&C to write Twelfth Night.
- Title Analysis: I don’t think a writing partnership is considered an act, but close enough.
- Episode schreiber Haskell Barkin had no writing credits on IMDb until he was 43 years old.
After getting on my good side by starting off with old Air Force footage last week, SFT is going back to the well with more footage. It is just a brief shot, though, and followed up by a picture of a busy highway and a modern home. The theme is speed, uninterrupted journeys and the convenience of modern gadgets.
Things get serious when electrical interference from the neighbor’s house disrupts Al’s TV picture. Al walks next door and he also gets no response from ringing the bell. Unlike almost every show I’ve watched for this blog, he does not open the door and waltz in uninvited. This was the 50’s when people had manners and a sense of neighborliness and propriety. So he peeks in the window. To his surprise — and mine! — he sees a 
Going downstairs to change a fuse, Al realizes he has hung on to Ted’s flashlight. He figures this out when it projects a light that gives him x-ray vision. He is able to see through the wall, and then his wife’s hand. Al tries to take the flashlight apart, but it is sealed up tighter than an iPad. He is again busted by Ted who demands his flashlight back. Ted has a lot of suspicious questions about the local power grid where Al’s airplane manufacturing plant draws its power, how there radar is powered, and what they do in case of power failure.
He continues his story about people using the machines to go back to simpler times. As people fled the oppressive future, the government outlawed time travel. They even sent out 
Aidan Hunter had the resources and foresight to build an underground bunker to survive whatever apocalypse occurred. He has electricity, fresh air, food, booze, a nice home, and the scientific know-how to program holograms. Inexplicably, he has program-med most of these avatars to be his family; and also to continue using the name Aidan.
For entertainment that night, Aidan programs up a double-date for he and his cartoon brother. Aidan is wearing some sort of black sleeveless scuba-looking thing. His holographic brother appears to be wearing a jacket over his wife-beater. If this is a sly indication that his clothing can only be overlayed onto his basic template like a paper doll — bravo!
When Aidan conjures up another girl to take into the pod, Emma takes over the form of the fantasy girl. To really get on Aidan’s good side, Emma would have shown up in addition to, not in place of the first girl. WTH, is there a weight limit on that ride? [1]
Paige turns off the soup on his hot-plate — a nice touch — and dashes out of the room to report himself for peeping-tomming. Since phones had apparently not yet been invented, he actually runs to the police station to report the murder of the “pretty blonde”.
Moments later, the “pretty blonde” asks Paige’s neighbors for directions to an apartment she wants to rent. Well, well, well . . .
Mr. Thurgood marshalls the staff for another day at Maynard’s Jewelry. The all-male sales staff is nattily attired, and the elderly doorman Henry is in a spiffy uniform. As Henry is carrying the jewels from the safe to the display case, he accidentally drops a $165,000 necklace [1]. As is always the case in real life, this is the moment the boss chooses to walk in.
Mrs. Rudell meets Thurgood there and puts on the necklace. She goes into an office to put it on. She just misses Dr. Rudell as he comes out to the lobby. AWKWARD! Not awkward because Thurgood is about to spoil the surprise. Awkward because Dr. Rudell calls his wife out of a different office to give her hell, and it is a different woman.
They are surprised by Maynard at the door. He tells Thurgood, “I suppose you know you can’t get away with this.” Psych! He hands Thurgood his gold watch and severance. He says he knows that “forgetting” them was his way of making restitution. Thurgood calls his daughter out to meet Maynard. He is so overwhelmed by Thurgood’s loyalty that he breaks the men-only tradition and offers the daughter a job at Maynard’s beginning Monday morning.