The writer’s strike is making me wait until the middle of January for new “Law and Order,” so I’ve been pondering vintage shows.
Remember the celebratory final episode of “The Mary Tyler Moore Show?” Everyone in the newsroom was fired except for Ted, the incompetent newscaster. Lou Grant (Edward Asner) tells his colleagues, “I treasure you, people,” and Mary Richards (Moore), Sue Ann Nivens (Betty White), Ted Baxter (Ted Knight), and others assemble in what might be the world’s most famous group hug.
With its twist that Ted is the only one still working at WJN, that final episode may be one of the best finales in television history. (I bow to “Newhart’s” ending with Bob in bed with Suzanne Pleshette, wife from “The Bob Newhart Show,” and it’s all been a dream.)
But what about our favorite shows that stopped without a grand farewell? What did we miss from what may have been a famous finale?
What if the food at Clay’s is filled with arsenic as a last nod?
The legal drama “Perry Mason” ran nine seasons from 1957 to 1966, with the last episode’s only difference being that it was broadcast in color. I wanted a bit more romance, though I’m unsure if the lead couple Perry (Raymond Burr) and confidential secretary Della Street (Barbara Hale) were right for each other (comment made with discretion). Would Della and drop-dead gorgeous detective Paul Drake (William Hopper, son of famous gossip columnist Hedda Hopper) have made a good match?
How about a final episode in which lead prosecutor Hamilton Burger (ever noticed that’s Ham Burger, for short?) killed someone, and Perry gets the case and wins Burger’s freedom?
How About An Episode in Which No One is Shot?
“Gunsmoke” did not meet my tween romantic dreams, either. While hints of romance trailed Marshal Dillon (Jim Arness) and Miss Kitty (Amanda Blake) throughout the series, she always seemed to walk upstairs at the Longbranch saloon to her room alone. A grand finale would be the saloon wedding of the two stars, with Festus Hagen (Ken Curtis) as the best man and Dennis Weaver returning as Chester.
On a personal note, I wished for a finale where my grandparents were present. My Indiana farmer grandparents toured California during the Summer of Love, riding a bus tour through the Haight. Not strange enough, they visited the set of “Gunsmoke,” where my grandmother presented Amanda Blake with a hat she sewed for her. More strangely, it wasn’t in the style of a fancy saloonkeeper/madam of the Old West but rather a weird-looking turban with feathers. I would have loved to see an episode with my grandmother’s name in the credits as a milliner to Amanda Blake.
Why Didn’t Michael Brady, an Architect, Build a Larger House?
One favorite show had a finale, but it had an insipid plot and was universally panned, and now lives on forever in reruns. “The Brady Bunch” was popular on ABC for five seasons. Star Robert Reed refused to participate in what he felt was a ridiculous last episode, so it aired without him.
Their oldest son, Greg, dyed his hair orange before high school graduation. S-T-U-P-I-D.
What happened to the dalliance between Alice, the maid, and Sam, the butcher?
Did Tiger the dog go to a nice farm upstate?
Several later TV movies, a Carol and Mike Brady guest-star appearance on “Love Boat,” and a terrible reboot film came out.
Jethro Bodine for Congress?
Though “The Beverly Hillbillies” starred in several films a generation later, I’m sorry there was no final episode with the series regulars. I wanted to see Jethro Bodine (Max Baer) make something of himself with his fifth-grade education. Millionaire Jed Clampett’s (Buddy Ebsen) nephew Jethro always had some new career scheme, from frogman to brain surgeon and folk singer. Jethro didn’t reach quite high enough because today—with his well-known giant intellect and ciphering ability—he could qualify for many government positions.
“The Andy Griffith Show” technically did not have a final episode but wrapped up plotlines in the first episode of “Mayberry R.F.D,” a replacement program starring Ken Berry. Andy Taylor, played by Griffith, marries his girlfriend Helen Crump (Aneta Corsaut), and Barney (Don Knotts) walks down the aisle and accompanies them on their honeymoon.
But the “Mayberry R.F.D.” premiere did not answer my questions about “The Andy Griffith Show,” despite a spate of ridiculous TV movies.
Why were most of the people in Mayberry unmarried?
How could all the single women afford their own homes, but Barney lived in Mrs. Mendelbright’s Rooming House and Gomer in the backroom of Wally’s Service Station?
Why was Barney so determined that Andy married Helen but didn’t ask Thelma Lou to marry him?
No people of color graced the town of Mayberry until Mayberry R.F.D. when Sam Jones’ neighbor appeared from nowhere. That may have been considered progress, but it seemed odd that a North Carolina town was pasty white. Several television movies advanced the narratives with new characters and insipid plots. Instead of the town’s most notorious alcoholic dying of liver failure, he’s the local ice cream man.
So, we who bravely watched our first television on black and white sets are doomed never to know these answers while we wait for a new “Law and Order.”