The
Mary Tyler Moore Show Season Three Gets Bold
by
Kristin Battestella
The
twenty-four episodes of the 1972-73 Third Season of The Mary Tyler
Moore Show go bold as associate
news producer Mary Richards (Mary Tyler Moore) tackles issues in the
workplace alongside boss Lou Grant (Ed Asner), news writer Murray
Slaughter (Gavin MacLeod), and inept anchorman Ted Baxter (Ted
Knight) as well as the topical at home with friends and neighbors
Rhoda Morgenstern (Valerie Harper) and Phyllis Lindstrom (Cloris
Leachman).
In
the “The Good Time News” premiere, Mary discovers the man
previously in her position was paid fifty dollars more than her and
he didn't do as good a job. Weak claims that a family man deserves to
be paid more than a single woman more competent immediately tackle
equality in the workplace while the image conscious executives demand
a fresh and entertaining news hour. This lighthearted approach
divides the newsroom, for news isn't supposed to make people laugh
for ratings – it's truth not fake. Yes, way back then The
Mary Tyler Moore Show
actually equates
dishonest reporting and fake news with drinking from a dribble glass
on the air for a fascinating new relevance today. However, when Mary
accidentally tells the not so endearing Ted to shut up on the air,
she earns a twenty-five dollar a week raise. Of course, Lou won't ask
a saucy question over the phone when Mary walks in the room for “It's
Whether You Win or Lose.” His trip to Vegas is canceled thanks to a
Minnesota snowstorm, but once Lou sees how much cash Ted carries in
his wallet, he invites him to an impromptu WJM poker game. Mary
arranges Lou's scotch, water, and scotch and water; but the only
table available is from the castle set in the kid's studio and Lou
banishes Mary from the kingdom when she tries to break up the game
with pizza. The zany character moments and well balanced plot see
everyone humorously involved, and we would have loved to have seen
more of Mary's parents Dottie and Walter Richards, too. However
Nanette Fabray (One Day at a
Time) only appears in two
episodes while Bill Quinn (The Bob Newhart Show) appears
in three, as the very nature of The
Mary Tyler Moore Show doesn't
allow for our
progressive single gal to turn toward her parents to solve every
sitcom dilemma even when they move to Minneapolis in “Just Around
the Corner.” They all really get along well, but the close
proximity is cramping Mary's style, cleaning her already clean
apartment and dusting where she's already dusted. Dottie pulls up
Mary's low cut blouse and tells her to be home before midnight, but
when Mary's out all night, Walter calls incessantly until Mary
insists it's her own business. She feels bad about telling them she
isn't a baby anymore in a bemusingly tearful argument, but The
Mary Tyler Moore Show takes
a stand as Mary remains firm about living on her own. Her parents
must simply accept that they won't know where she is and what's she's
doing half the time!
During
Dottie's birthday in “You've
Got a Friend,” Walter feels left out, bored, and drives the ladies
crazy, so Mary takes him to lunch with Lou for a delicious clashing
between her two favorite men. Walter is up on all the latest healthy
eating trends, but Lou doubles up his vodka martinis, and Mary's
caught in the middle when her mom's left out now, too. As mentioned
in My Favorite Television Shows list, the “Don't forget to take
your pill” zinger here is one of The
Mary Tyler Moore Show's
best winks. When both Mary and her father answer “I won't,” it's
a then shocking admission that doesn't have to say anything else
regarding single swinging and birth control. However, it's terribly
touching when Walter bandages his daughter's cut and asks if she ever
gets lonely. Mary admits to cutting her fingers a lot but otherwise,
she has a good life – not that it stops matchmaker Phyllis from
going overboard in setting up Mary with her pianist brother in “My
Brother's Keeper.” Unfortunately, much to Phyllis' horror, he
instead strikes up a cozy friendship with Rhoda, who loves digging at
her melodramatic “sis” Phyllis. One of Mary's disastrous parties
leads to an uncomfortable gay outing that's played for a punchline,
but the The Mary Tyler Moore
Show even
going there is quite modern for its day. Some people get married,
some like being single, some people are gay but that doesn't mean we
can't all have a good time together. If someone wants to know
something they should just ask, and if one doesn't want to share
their age, status, or orientation, that's groovy, too. Of course,
Phyllis is just relieved this means her brother isn't marrying Rhoda,
but the societal topsy turvy continues in “What
Do You Say When the Boss Says 'I Love You'?” when there's a new
female program director. Mary gloats while Lou claims to be unfazed
by a lady boss who knows her business in great one on ones scenes and
woman to woman chats. Obviously she falls in love with Lou, and
granted, the scandalous notion is played for laughs, but it's a
mature and ahead of its time tale nonetheless. Likewise, the
penultimate standout “Put on a Happy Face” shows just how much
crap women go through as one disaster after another ruins the annual
Television Editors Awards for the nominated Mary. Being late, flat
tires, spilled coffee, no date, work mistakes, dropped groceries,
fevers, sprained ankles, ruined dresses, bad hair, rain – as much
as we love Mary, there's something gleeful in her having one of those
days with her name spelled wrong on the award. Mary also lends money
to Rhoda in “Mary Richards and the Incredible Plant Lady” for a
new boutique business and almost immediately regrets the $995 when
another $300 is needed for “Rhoda's Dendron.” The friends have no
problem loaning each other money when it's small bills, but banking
technicalities, loan applications, and car repairs add to the
commentary on women doing business, money, money between friends, and
hideous yellow cars.
The
Mary Tyler Moore Show almost
makes it through Year Three without any sub par entries, but another
double date and another guy intent on immediately marrying Mary
becomes much too much in “Romeo and Mary.” Bad humor
complete with racist jokes acerbates the insistent first date
obsession, and Mary is rightfully infuriated when this creeper calls
constantly, barges in, plans her entire schedule, and takes out a
billboard in front of her workplace. Apparently we're supposed to
enjoy the crazy boyfriend send up, but it's disturbing how the men in
the office think her being handcuffed to him is funny. He's forced
her to come with him to win her over, and all the men agree
pressuring a woman is the way to get her. He insists his persistence
will make her love him by a certain date, and this may be one of the
series' worst episodes since it goes directly against all the forward
women's ideals thanks to terrible male tropes designed to humiliate
Mary. Inexplicably, it's also all made to be her fault for not
wanting to hurt his feelings or make a scene. She cowers in her
apartment afraid he's outside waiting to win her heart, but threats
to punch him, pour water in his lap, or have some hot coco are
supposed to make everything better? Another boyfriend who broke
Mary's heart before the show returns in “Remembrance of Things
Past,” and it's getting tough to keep track of all the boyfriends
we've seen or haven't seen. This isn't the fiance that precipitated
her big city move, but this one almost proposed, too. Mary initially
avoids him because he pushes all her buttons before giving in to a
terrific time – which seems to be all he wants from her when she
wants more. This is a fine episode in and of itself, but we've seen
Mary hold out for better and we've seen this plot too many times
already. Had this entry come earlier in the season – before count
'em four similar dalliances this year – it would have been better.
Unfortunately, we also only see John Amos as weatherman Gordy once in
the premiere as the perfect candidate to co-anchor with Ted. He does
a better job of course – sharp, relaxed, funny. However, he's more
so there to be the brunt of the joke for getting upset that everyone
blames him for the bad weather because it isn't like he can predict
it or anything.
Thirty-two
year old Mary Richards hates paperwork, meetings, and feeling like
she has to represent all women as the lone female executive at WJM.
She'd much rather just be her shorter haired herself but will stand
up when she does better work but is paid less and wants to embrace
format changes – although she still can't call Mr. Grant by his
first name and has conflicts with Murray when she is temporarily in
charge. Mary cross stitches and has some swanky records, but
compulsively cleans, mops her entire floor over an ash tray spill,
faithfully takes her car for a 3,000 mile check up, alphabetizes her
medicine cabinet, and thinks she needs to diet at 120 pounds. O_o
She doesn't think being the only woman in the newsroom is interesting
enough to be interviewed in “What is Mary Richards Really Like?”
and worries her dress is too sexy and a serious tweed suit is better.
Murray thinks this masculine look is cute, but Lou realizes asking
her not to wear pants in the office is a pig headed demand. Mary
insists she can stand up for herself against a columnist looking to
twist her words, but the business and pleasure mix with awkward
dates, her taking short hand of her own interview, and scandalous
questions about a man spending the night on a first date.
Fortunately, Mary sticks to her convictions, impressing her suitor
for not being an easy catch like all the other girls. However,
divorcing friends in “Have I Found a Guy for You” upset Mary, as
the once ideal couple puts her in the middle thanks to seemingly
harmless banter about Mary being the girl he'd marry if not for his
wife causes a kerfuffle in the post-divorce dating etiquette. Rhoda
insists its impossible for them to all be friends, and the series
again pushes taboo topics in unique ways. Divorce couldn't be
mentioned in The Mary Tyler
Moore Show premise
but now women can speak freely of separations as common and being
tired of being a mere housewife. Mary continues to hope there is such
a thing as a good marriage until her journalism teacher boyfriend
from Season Two's “Room 223” returns in “The Courtship of
Mary's Father's Daughter.” Now he's engaged and inviting Mary to
the festivities before realizing he wants to get together with her
again. Her father's happy, everyone is happy in fact – except Mary.
Just because the guy is in the mood, she doesn't have to go along
with it, and the defiant Mary decides waiting to be head over heels
in love is more important than settling. She is not scared to not be
married, and if the perfect man isn't willing to wait then so be it.
Dating
also isn't going so well for the late Valerie Harper's Rhoda
Morgenstern – who wants Mary to lend her her body when she also
lends her her clothes. She drinks Mary's bad coffee because it's
delicious and wakes her up at 5:45 a.m. for shrewd chats about being
un-sexed in a long time, needing batteries, and how two men and a
rope will solve anything. Rhoda exercises in baggy sweats and remains
a pace behind in their ballet exercises but will run upstairs and
call Mary to give her a phone out when Phyllis is bothering them.
Once again The Mary Tyler
Moore Show makes
Rhoda a little unnecessarily pathetic – she only takes her car out
of the shop for accidents – but her beaded curtain is always open
with offerings of bad Jewish wine from her mother and throwaway
mentions of siblings
that will be retconned away on Rhoda.
Overloaded
outlets and dimming the lights with her heated blanket controller
give her a sense of power, and doing a Santa workshop display window
at work is her crowning achievement. Unfortunately the home problems
come to the workplace in “Enter
Rhoda's Parents” when Harold Gould (The
Golden Girls) joins Nancy
Walker's Ida as Rhoda's dad Martin for a disruptive tour of the
newsroom. Everyone loves Martin, but Ida fears she's getting old
while he gets the Cary Grant compliments. She suspects he's fooling
around – she's a modern woman who knows the score – but
everything plays out in Mary's apartment because they think it's
nicer there compared to Rhoda's bean bag. Thankfully, it all an over
reaction leading to a vow renewal so Rhoda can catch the bouquet
before our ugly duckling wins her department store's Miss Hempel's
beauty contest in “Rhoda the Beautiful.” She and Murray join a
calorie cutter club and Rhoda loses twenty pounds, but she isn't
happy after having expected to look better at last. She still dresses
baggy, but admits she looks okay – refusing to believe she is a
great looking girl until Lou of all people has to point out her
success. It's weird everyone makes such a fuss because Harper was
always beautiful, but it's a superb launch getting the character out
of the titular star's shadow so she can ultimately move to her own
spin-off, a notion tested with “Rhoda Morgenstern: Minneapolis to
New York.” Rhoda visits home and is offered a window dressing job
at Bloomingdale's, saying yes even though she'll miss Mary too much
and impulsively buys a pet goldfish. Mary doesn't believe she will
really move, finally taking it to heart at their farewell dinner
where both get too emotional. Our two women spend most of the time
here talking about their friendship in a great twofer with
bemusingly backward talking of not not leaving and going away parties
for staying.
Boss
Lou Grant stumps Mary when he can but admits she does a great job
even if he balks at the thought of faking the news to make it
entertaining. He drinks at the morning meeting, hates anyone who
hates television, and insists they can't disagree properly if they
say how much they love each other in the argument. Lou's glad to be
proven right when he is but doesn't want people to know how much he
drinks and won't let any guy get fresh with Mary – even daring to
enter the ladies room to see if she's alright. When Lou's promoted to
program manager for “Who's in Charge Here?” he enjoys the money
but is unhappy with his mod looking desk and no place to keep his
scotch. Stuffy suits, upright chairs, and visual gags accent the out
of place reversals – our social hierarchy insists men are bosses
and women are homemakers, but Lou has to name his replacement in a
fun little episode on a man versus woman's ability in the workplace.
Of course, Lou claims he's going on vacation in “Operation: Lou”
when he's really in the hospital to have old shrapnel removed. Again
he thinks Mary can be put in charge with no fuss, but Ted brings him
scotch and a television so they can watch the news together. This
subtle straight man versus slap stick sardonic is better than Mary's
previous hospital stay in “Hi” thanks to the opposites bonding,
superb characterization, and the simplest of gags. Lou almost turns
over a new leaf as a result – until Ted bamboozles a late breaking
bulletin on the air. Lou spends his savings to buy his favorite local
bar after the owner dies in “Lou's Place,” but he's still $1500
short of the $10k purchase and only Ted has the funds to join him. He
insists their friends pay for their eighty-five cent shots, and The
Mary Tyler Moore Show adds
another dimension with this not so buddy relationship as cheap Ted
wants his money out of this depressing bar once Lou realizes he
doesn't have the charm for this kind of business. He's content with
everyone being afraid of him – leading to an embarrassingly
awkward sing along as he tries to to get friendly and know everyone's
name in an episode that almost feels like the inspiration for Cheers.
Six
sugars in his coffee Ted Baxter may walk off at the thought of having
to share anchorman duties, but he runs right back to the camera at
the possibility of someone else being better. When he accidentally
leaves the news six minutes early, Ted thinks all the commotion was
merely people showing they liked his show. Compliments on his new
jacket placate him, but Ted ruins a serious news story to prove his
wit when told he isn't funny and it never occurs to him that what he
says insults people. Of course, he won't apologize for disliking
newspapers – they are the competition and get ink on his hands. Ted
claims to be hip by sleeping in the raw and getting a Beatle bowl
haircut ten years too late but takes notes during poker and somehow
wins $375. He pays Mary one dollar a page to type his autobiography,
which he wants to call The
Greatest Story Ever Told, and
dresses like a bum to go to the free clinic before complaining about
the wait just to be told he doesn't have a social disease. It's a
surprising throwaway punchline tossed into The
Mary Tyler Moore Show
among Ted's watching reruns of Ozzie and Harriet for life advice
and his making a paperweight out of his supposed best friend Lou's
shrapnel. Ted has five goals in life – own a restaurant, replace
Walter Cronkite, marry Marlo Thomas, make a million dollars, and
learn how to swim – but his fan club is just old ladies who make
cookies in the shape of his face in “Farmer Ted and the News.”
Ted holds out on his contract over a clause forbidding him from other
work like movies or Broadway, but when the nonexclusive statement is
removed, the newsroom isn't laughing when Ted ends up doing
commercials, pitching slicers, barking like a dog, and advertising a
“woman's product” that Lou doesn't even know what it is.
Fortunately, Lou's threats about newsman dignity set Ted straight.
Fittingly,
The Mary Tyler Moore
Show introduces Georgia
Engel (Everybody Loves
Raymond) as Georgette
Franklin in “Rhoda Morgenstern: Minneapolis to New York” since
the quiet, seemingly dim witted but sweet girl who also works at
Hempel's but later sells door to door cosmetics would be a soft
replacement for the soon to be spun-off Rhoda. She flirts with Ted
but drives away before he can make a night of it as he intends and
brings Mary homemade gifts to say thank you, always helping and being
polite so she's never a bother. By her third appearance in “The
Georgette Story” she's already dating and being taken advantage of
by Ted – doing his laundry and grocery shopping, making dinner and
coffee. He won't kiss her in public, ditches her, and pretends he has
other lady friends before taking out his jealously on the air when
Mary sets up Georgette on other dates. It's fascinating to see how a
new person changes the tight knit character dynamics as Rhoda and
Mary help Georgette realize that even if she really likes Ted, she
deserves respect. She understands that she's a damn nice person but
Ted's going to hear about it in between their pillow fights and them
talking about him. She isn't his baby or cookie, just Georgette, and
rather than leaving Ted as a one trick anchorman, her introduction
makes him grow up and become able to say he loves her because she
wants to say it back.
News
writer Murray L. Slaughter keeps track of the one hundred and
fourteen times Ted has bothered him and drinks scotch while watching
the news with Lou – until the scotch runs out and they switch to
bourbon. Although he dislikes Mary checking his copy because he
messes up his I before E except after C, Murray is totally dejected
to learn how much less he makes then Ted, who he thinks is a one
hundred and sixty five pound vegetable doing their news when a turnip
would do better. At times he doesn't have a lot to do beyond writing
Ted memos telling him to turn the page over for the rest of the news,
but Murray provides some sweet shade – a little seated commentary
in the corner of the frame beside Ted, who he says is still upset
over the cancellation of My
Mother the Car, the
much reviled series also from Mary
Tyler Moore creators
Allan Burns and James L. Brooks. Once a compulsive gambler, Murray
promises Joyce Bulifant as his wife Marie he's given it up, but when
he finds out Ted doesn't know what “a kind” is, Murray can't
resist a hand. Fortunately, he has a bag of nickels handy to pay back
what he owes Ted and fairs better playing chess with Mary during
lunch. In his usual late season spotlight “Murray
Faces Life,” Murray falls into a deep depression after a schoolmate
wins a Pulitzer prize. He ditches work and goes to the movies and
feels unneeded – forty years old with nothing to show for it but
terrible work, poor pay, and a boring home. Frank conversations
address why it's okay to be in a funk as his concerned friends keep
the awkwardness lighthearted thanks to a night on the town with Ted
and his fluffy puppet. Housewife neighbor Phyllis Lindstrom also
lives veraciously through single, working Mary, thinking any affront
to Mary is an affront to all womankind. She insists Mary is obligated
as a woman to take any advancement or opportunity that comes her way
so she can go to the next plateau with her. Phyllis takes creative
moment classes with birth of a flower and ode to spring meditations
and remains a progressive parent – letting her daughter have
supposedly boy racing toys rather than dolls or kitchen sets because
there's no difference except girl toys' intentions to prepare women
to be housewives. Ecology is also more important than vanity, however
she does miss her admittedly fake fur coat. Of course, landlord
Phyllis doesn't bother with flickering electric or no firewood during
a snowstorm, and Leachman is referred to more than seen with only
four appearances this season. Though she's excited for Rhoda's
transformation, Phyllis still brings some insults, bragging about her
own beauty contest win and performing her song and dance talent.
Sadly, Phyllis didn't go to her own prom, but told her parents she
did – dressing up and sending herself a corsage before going to the
movies and crying herself to sleep. It's a tender moment providing
brief insight into why Phyllis is the way she is, and it's delivered
perfectly by Leachman. Lisa Gerritsen is growing up as her daughter
Bess, and her teen boyfriend is crushing on Mary in “It Was
Fascination, I Know.” He's a seemingly well mannered boy claiming
to be interested in news and the school paper, but a day at WJM is
just an excuse to shadow Mary before breaking up with Bess via a
twenty questions game. She's not that upset, but this cute little
episode perhaps should have focused more on her wondering about
dating and a girl in school who has big...sweaters...alongside some
more risque innuendo.
Of
course that aforementioned no divorce series premise means we never
get to see Dick Van Dyke on The
Mary Tyler Moore Show, but
his brother Jerry Van Dyke visits as a writer for Chuckles the Clown
in “But Seriously, Folks.” After being fired by Chuckles for his
latest ideas and his own aspirations as a comedian, a lighter side
news audition also turns disastrous and further complicates a budding
romance with Mary. It's a singular performance by Van Dyke with bad
luck and an embarrassing stand up comedy routine in a bowling alley,
however we have some likewise exceptional performances from our
regulars complete with riotous rest room tears only made better by
the follow up episode in Season Four. Despite occasional older
credits, syndication cuts, or episodes perhaps being out of
production order, new clips in the opening credits help bring Year
Three into the seventies vogue alongside long skirts, empire dresses,
turtlenecks, wide collars, fancy belts, flared pants, and long vests.
Corduroy, capes, pocket squares, ugly ties – the colorful red,
orange, and yellow is a bit much when the stripes, plaid, paisley,
tie dye, and gingham mix together. Painstaking coffee makers and
guest apartments tricked out with green, brown, and ferns add to the
old seventies bar sets with red lights and wood paneling, for
locations are still somewhat defined as the feminine at home and the
leather man's place. Women wear scarves to cover their hairdos and
operators break into the phone calls while simplistic maps, big
cameras, hefty monitors, old tape recorders, and giant microphones
dress the station. We
also get a glimpse of the apartment house stairs as well as that
elusive fourth wall in Mary's apartment. She
may not understand that seats behind second base are really center
field and not that good, but hey they were $12, and she knows what a
woman is expected to do if she wants to get comp tickets from the WJM
sportscaster. Pencils, clipboards, typewriters, and the Rolodex
complete the nostalgia alongside other slider viewers and newsroom
thingamajigs. I love the long nightgowns and ruffles as they remain
somewhat fashionable, but going to the record to store to listen to
the records but not buy them is probably a joke lost on today's
viewers. That
new car has air conditioning and
a
newfangled cassette deck, too!
The
Mary Tyler Moore Show Season
Three is thoroughly seventies in style, innocence, and
nostalgia. However, the award winning, sophisticated single lady
comedy is as progressive, fresh, and modern as it is wholesome for
the today's family. The Mary Tyler Moore Show makes
you feel wiser in our Minneapolis time well spent thanks to
intertwining characters and groundbreaking dilemmas that raise the
bar for sitcom standards.
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