90s Comfort Shows!

 

90s Comfort Food Binges

by Kristin Battestella

Don the baby doll dresses, velvet chokers, and butterfly clips – it's time to crank up that noisy modem and unwind with the raunchy humor, steamy action, and wholesome cowboys of these nineties comfort shows!

Married...with Children – “Whoa, Bundy!” From the ironic Frank Sinatra theme and Buck the Dog nabbing his five bucks to Psycho Dad and The Verminator, this 1987-1997 Fox sitcom was like no television show before it. The raunchy may be tame now, but it's fascinating to see how the unhappy, cheap, pathetic spin upended sitcom tropes and twee television cliches with a little help from Polk High and scoring four touchdowns in one game. The First season starts mild enough, but the betamax, mouse in the house extremes, and overdue 1957 library books escalate to wedding rings lost down a stripper's pants and unsatisfied in need of batteries taboos. Seasons Two and Three shockingly address periods in “The Camping Show” and scandalous lingerie for “Her Cups Runneth Over” yet the so-called lost episode “I'll See You In Court” isn't so pearl clutching today. Many of the series' most memorable episodes come in Season Five with the “We'll Follow the Sun” Labor Day premiere summing up the torment of our working man before the baseball twists in “The Unnatural,” Peg redecorating the bathroom for “A Man's Castle,” the Allante of “Kelly Bounces Back,” and the stolen trophies in “All Nite Security Guard.” Pamela Anderson thrashing on the fantasy bed, the dollar on a string at the nudie bar, barbecues cooked with a dead aunt's ashes, the super market shenanigans of “You Better Shop Around,” and the inability to remember an old song in “Oldies but Young 'Uns” make up for the terrible Top of the Heap backdoor pilot and the falling flat “It's a Bundyful Life.” The departure of Steve Rhoades and the introduction of Jefferson D'Arcy marks an obvious turning point as Season Six struggles with poor pregnancy plotlines and disjointed fun in episodes like “Kelly Does Hollywood” and “Al, Bundy, Shoe Dick.” Of course, that first half of Year Six is retroactively written off as a dream, and “The England Show” didn't need to be three parts, dragging the then weekly before the Season Seven premiere introduced the disastrous Seven character and tired money or insurance schemes. “Peggy and the Pirates” is fun in of itself, but the subsequent “Go for the Old” is a better example of the demented Bundy brand alongside Vanna White's propositioning for Al and the orgasmic speeches of “Banking on Marcy.” Boudoir Peggy billboards and an accidental circumcision bolster Season Eight while “Ride Scare” tackles environmental hypocrisy with the show's particular brand of humor – and Seven missing on the milk carton. The “I Want My Psycho Dad” two-parter addresses viewer complaints and cancel culture before we knew what it was to blame entertainment instead of bad parenting, but Year Nine's weekly gags run thin with clip shows, failed college spin offs, and preposterous celebrity stunts. Downright mean racism, sexism, homophobia, and fat shaming make for numerous wrongs, and rather than subverting sitcom tropes, the later seasons are fantasy parody with outlandish self-hype and dated of the moment references. The disastrous attempt to build the reincarnated Lucky a doghouse in “Al Goes to the Dogs,” NO MA'AM's bid to become a tax exempt church, and Christmas phone sex with the unseen Grandma Wanker in “I Can't Believe It's Butter” start Season Ten well, but by the Final season, it's clear the show has run out of ideas. While it's a pity there's no properly wild Newhart style finale, the shear amount of episodes here makes for the perfect turn off your brain background and chill nostalgia.

Pacific Blue – Today it's tough to believe cops on bikes at the beach could run for five seasons with one hundred and one episodes, and the 1996 Pilot immediately makes me feel sixteen years old thanks to trick bicycles, neon graffiti, and rollerblading culprits. Beach volleyball, bikinis, surfing, and sun kissed music montages rift on Baywatch amid too cool for school bike patrol quips and lieutenant Rick Rossovich's Top Gun cred. Early guest kitschy matches the X Games style chases, stunts, and wheelies well filmed with low angles, zooms, up close adrenaline, and so fast it must be slow motion strobe. The intense up, up, up action lets viewers forgive the feeble reasons why our bike police solve crimes. Boardwalk crowd control, sure, but undercover for robberies and vice? Would we watch horseback mounted police galloping in cinematic formation and leaping over the inferior cop cars to nab dangerous drug dealers? Bomb threats, nude beach protests, and preposterous bike to helicopter shenanigans aside, the First Year ironically offers timely police shootings, brutality, and racism. Traditional A/B even C plotting, however, mixes the good with run of the mill cop plots and tired Vietnam vet gone bonkers tropes. Bad ass bike perspectives or chip on the shoulder at demeaning the unit attitudes change as needed – interfering with grizzly murders, on the job injuries, and previously unsolved angst. Sexy male and female partners live on the edge in the bedroom and on the beat, but the stepped out of the shower and into the skimpy towel nineties sex scenes are so innocent and the work versus pleasure moves hot in one episode then cold across seasons. Girlfriends are assaulted for the man's revenge, which gets dropped in favor of skateboarding villains of the week. Third season women in the military, school shootings, hate crimes, and homophobia are decent but too many basketball plots, undercover romance stings, drug heists, and foreign intrigues get repetitive. A Baywatch crossover with Carmen Electra makes one wonder why this series wasn't deliberately created as a tandem franchise, but when episodes get serious with deposition style frankness, it's silly thanks to the thongs everywhere. The overlong episodic seasons short change the self-aware knowledge that the public hates doughnut eating, pension waiting, Rodney King beating bullies in blue; cops are framed, suspended, arrested, and/or vindicated all in forty-five minutes. Despite quality strides – and shout outs to fellow USA nineties treat La Femme Nikita, which our cops watch faithfully – deaths and Vegas weddings lead to a huge cast changeover for Season Four with uneven introductions and a too crowded ensemble. Now that they wear pants more often than bike shorts, the eye candy and desperate need to be seductive goes overboard thanks to obnoxious attitudes and falling flat flirtations. Maybe saucy maybe not roommates, date rape, and porn stings are not endearing, and repeated pregnancy scares get old alongside the contrived rookie mistakes and eye rolling bad behaviors. The new ~edgy~ players spend more time rough housing off the book for personal drama while never identifying themselves as cops. Female boxing stunts, Hawaii stints, film noir styles, and even occult episodes are so far removed from the original if thin premise, and serious internal affairs plots or real time kidnapping hours jar with boardwalk kids shooting themselves out of homemade cannons. Everyone is so angry and unlikable, and rather than some adrenaline fueled fun, the last year and a half is a chore to finish. They barely even ride their bikes! Fortunately, antennas, clunky mobile phones, giant projector televisions, 28.8 modems, video dating services, and Walkmans with real headphones provide bemusing chuckles to match this perky, entertaining patrol.

Snowy River: The McGregor Saga – Although this 1993-96 Australian television series is based on the same Banjo Paterson poem as the 1982 The Man From Snowy River film, it is otherwise unrelated to the movies, forging its own path with rival ranchers and gold claims. Brother versus brother and secret family histories clash in First season arcs amid railroad intrigue, kidnappings, banking schemes, dynamite, and shootouts. Soon to be famous faces like Hugh Jackman (X-Men) and guest stars such as Dean Stockwell (Quantum Leap) tackle desperate drives, stampedes, big cattle barons, Aboriginal issues, and racism. Although more masculine adventure than crusade of the week a la Dr. Quinn, Olivia Newton-John (Grease) and Tracy Nelson (Father Dowling Mysteries) delight as strong women in multi-part episodes addressing abuse, voting rights, and women in the workplace. Episode of the week changes in the Second season, however, are hit or miss when guest plots leave less room for the regulars. Then tame unchaperoned kisses aren't so scandalous and over the top chip on the shoulder scowling wears thin fast, but the older couples are charming alongside former flames now widowed back in town and good old fashioned duels. One off entries are great when the regular cast developments stick, but pacing suffers when two or three unrelated stories compete per hour. Romance resets and supporting townsfolk are dropped or forgotten, and the Third season goes downhill with cliché husbands back from the dead, orphan boy obnoxiousness, and even the old blind for an episode requisite. It's also odd to see Guy Pearce (Lockout) as a background player with little to do until the series realizes his worth in later seasons. Walking skirts, women's vests, and cameo jewelry look the period part, and those save a horse ride a cowboy nineties looks are ironically turn of the century appropriate, but the big hair strays into Dynasty goes west Glamour Shots. The interiors are small, but the western dressings match the muddy, authentic outdoors and picturesque photography. Intriguing opportunities in the shortened Final year get done in by weekly derivatives and too many cast departures, and chasing episodes on The Family Channel back in the day probably hindered Snowy River's popularity stateside. However, with only sixty-five episodes and various streaming options today, it's easy to marathon the Down Under Lonesome Dove entertainment. It's mature without being tawdry, family friendly without being juvenile, and perfect for a wholesome Saturday Night.

Return to Snowy River

Return to Snowy River is Subpar but still Horsey and Pretty.

by Kristin Battestella

Billed as Return to Snowy River stateside and known elsewhere around the globe as The Man from Snowy River II, this 1988 sequel is lacking a lot of the charm and storytelling done so well in The Man from Snowy River. Fortunately, all the equine visuals and Down Under scenery of its 1982 predecessor remain for an entertaining family adventure.

After proving his worth and becoming the famed Man from Snowy River, Jim Craig (Tom Burlinson) has continued working on his own keep and gathering the wild brumby horse herds to train, sell, and eventually breed on his own mountain station. Jim also hopes to reunite with his love Jessica Harrison (Sigrid Thorton) despite her father's (Brian Dennehy) misgivings over what he feels is too low a match. The elder Harrison is more interested in winning horse races and doing business with influential, strong arm local bankers trying to push out the resident mountain men. Horse thefts and accusations escalate, and Jim must risk taming the Stallion leading the brumby mob, once again taking matters into his own hands to win the day.

No, Return to Snowy River is not as beloved as the 1982 release, and the Disney take over tone may be the culprit. Only a few sentences of catching up elude to the first film with an unsure amount of time having passed between them. Extraneous, ho hum, would be humorous townsfolk and cardboard villains bloat a short 99 minutes that's slow to start and perhaps confusing to those who haven't seen the original. From where did all these barons holding finances over the previously top of the mark Harrison come? The to and fro double talk doesn't explain much, and pedestrian girl riding in a horse race side plots lead nowhere along with a shoehorned in love triangle failing at its attempt to create conflict. Social plots on gentry versus mountain people are too muddled for the family friendly scale of Return to Snowy River, and overall, it feels like Disney's vision for the picture was that of a clichéd remake rather than a true what happens next sequel. Fortunately, returning producer and director Geoff Burrowes rectifies the villain comeuppance with emotional horse scenes, trademark equine action, and the character moments the audience came to see.

This time around, Tom Burlinson's Jim Craig is a little older, more confident, and self assured in his horse mastery. The audience knows these unlikable snobs with ulterior motives vying for Jessica's affection are no match for the genuine romance even while some of the uneven story hurts the character. Jim's owning half of Spur's gold mine is retconned and despite becoming a hero in The Man from Snowy River, he has to prove himself again to inferior jerks. Thankfully, Jim hasn't changed, and its morally pleasing to see a man working hard, earning his keep, bidding his time, and remaining true even as the world moves on and not necessarily for the better. Return to Snowy River takes an hour before we get to the heaviest emotion and character development, but the understanding looks and bittersweet moments between Jim and his horses are the loveliest – if no less upsetting – scenes in the picture. Though beautiful as ever, Sigrid Thorton is styled a bit too eighties anachronistic for Return to Snowy River with curly hair, contemporary dialogue, and now being informally called Jess. It's distracting when extras behind her are more appropriately period while she stands in the forefront without the expected hats or capes depending on how ladylike she is supposed to be from scene to scene. Instead of having a strong, progressive female character, the problematic plot makes Jessica's allegiance to her father or Jim too wishy washy. She's upset that it took so long for Jim to return but she argues in his favor against her father, spreading discord or blossoming romance more to advance the run time or convince the viewer when the charming one on one scenes between the young couple are dandy without all the round and round.

It's an unusual change to replace Kirk Douglas with Brian Dennehy (Cocoon) as Harrison, and Dennehy never has the opportunity to use his elder gravitas and fully make the character his own in Return to Snowy River thanks to rinse repeat daughter riding horses protests, his insistence she learn the ranch business, and more all over the place motivations. Amid the dress up to attract a suitor demands, muddled financial exposition, and gruff exterior lies conflicting tender affections and hidden warmth – not to mention mistakes in his own The Man from Snowy River history. Now Harrison's money comes from a gold mine rather than a horse racing gamble, yet Jim's stocks and wealth still aren't good enough for Harrison. Wedding clarifications are inexplicably excised from this stateside Disney edition, and offscreen reconciliations further cheapen the character, leaving the feeling that most of Dennehy's strength was left on the cutting room floor.

Fortunately, the divine sunsets, stallion silhouettes, and majestic equine photography in Return to Snowy River are tough to beat. Bright outdoor filming and intercut stallion editing have surprising personality while dune landscapes, mountain vistas, and forested rides add to the parasols, top hats, and Victorian feelings even if the lace and turn of the century balloon sleeves are overdone with that shiny satin and eighties cheating. The interior designs, however, appear dark with soft focused camera shots, and despite Disney influences, the film looks older than it is and feels more low budget than it was. Unlike the allegedly superior Australian releases, the bare bones Region 1 DVD has mismatched subtitles and an odd, jumping print that plays with its pan and scan, compromising some sequences that already don't live up to the original. The familiar, classic theme also feels underused, but new epic scoring anchors the heroic mood and surely difficult to film horsework. Naturally, opening gunshots, animal injuries, and spoiler warning horse deaths will be difficult for super young viewers. Hell, that scene still gets me every time, and it's ironic how films made to celebrate horsemanship remain clouded with production rumors of real on set accidents and fatalities.

Viewers don't have to see The Man from Snowy River in order to watch this Return – in fact, back to back marathoning may illume the sequel's flaws further, and audiences expecting the ingenuity or grit of its predecessor may be disappointed in the confusing reset tone and overall inferiority of Return to Snowy River. However, Return to Snowy River can still be enjoyed if you know the characters' history. Separating this outing's recreated ridings, horse pursuits, and thrilling family adventure and not comparing it to the original is the best way to savor Return to Snowy River.

The Man from Snowy River

The Man from Snowy River Remains a Family Delight

by Kristin Battestella

With its chock full of awesome scenery, renegade horses, and coming of age adventure, the 1982 Australian import The Man from Snowy River continues to please viewers young and old.

After the sudden death of his father, young mountain man Jim Craig (Tom Burlinson) must find work on the low country farms in order to upkeep his inherited station and prove his rugged mettle. Unfortunately, despite his horse sense and hard work, Jim's wealthy cattle baron boss Harrison (Kirk Douglas) objects to Jim's interest in his daughter Jessica (Sigrid Thorton). Jim's friendship with Harrison's cast out, prospector brother Spur (also Douglas) adds further tension, and when Harrison's prize colt is set loose, Jim is blamed. Determined, Jim vows to prove his worth and hunt down the colt – who is now part of a dangerous and wild brumby herd.

Perhaps The Man from Snowy River starts slow with a cramped, struggling rural existence but the early tragedy, quaint mountain cabin, and family tenderness quickly anchors viewers alongside the rough and tumble bravery inspired by the famed late nineteenth century Banjo Peterson poem. Director George T. Miller (The Never Ending Story II) fleshes out the ballad with daring rescues, rugged folk clashing against polite 1888 society, beautiful but wild horses, and all the big risks in taming such feral herds. While some dialogue or slang may be unfamiliar to American audiences, the one on one conversations fit the period setting. Dialogue is allowed to play out and advance the story with personality while charming horse training montages and sunset silhouettes give viewers time to be emotionally involved in the beauty instead of numbed by action packed superficiality. That's not to say The Man from Snowy River isn't without adventure, however. Suspenseful chases, frightening cliffs, and natural spectacles are all here and then some. Today's special effects can become irrelevant fast, but The Man from Snowy River isn't dated in its straightforward portrayal thanks to sharp editing, timely zooms, and fast dollies that know when to up the intensity, fist fights, and sabotage or pull back and give the epic scope or human feeling room to play. Maybe this is a simple tale adapted from what some may consider a small source, but The Man from Snowy River does everything it sets out to do with a fresh, unapologetic Australian grit.

Newcomer Tom Burlinson (also of Phar Lap, another fine tender horse picture) may have been unfamiliar stateside in 1982, however his Jim Craig is both young enough to need some growing up and believably mature as a rugged Down Under cowboy with edge – no millennial teen hunks need apply here! Jim's mountain stock and strong morals make for plenty of titular likability, and he won't stand for pesky troublemakers or lesser bullies while he earns his keep with humble labor like mucking out stalls. He's honest about needing the work and has the skills to match but doesn't need to put up a macho facade. Jim works hard and earns respect the right way, and it's a refreshing concept to see in this contemporary era where reward is seemingly given for nothing. Of course, there is certainly some awkwardness, foolishness, and mistakes amid the adventure, too. Though often perceived as a heartwarming tale for the ladies thanks to an easy to root for hero, The Man from Snowy River has enough male appeal in its lessons on learning how to be a man through proving oneself without compromise. With Jim's merit and upstanding nature, the viewer believes that the opportunity for success, love, and heroics will present themselves if we remain true.

On the other hand, Kirk Douglas (Spartacus) mixes some wealthy nasty and lovably crusty in the dual role of brothers Harrison and Spur. The varied appearance of each is well done – severe boots, tight britches, and a riding crop for Harrison compared to bearded gold digger with a wooden leg Spur. Both men have moments of fatherly tenderness and lost love, but their sad or bitter reactions have had lifelong, torn consequences. Harrison has some wise words yet remains blinded by money and past scorn while Spur perpetually and perhaps foolishly mines his life away for a shine that may not be there. The robust country in The Man from Snowy River has hardened these brothers – made one and broke the other – but how they respond to a slight with harshness or with kindness makes the difference. Harrison treats his daughter with suspicion thanks to perceived past ills, and brief paternity questions and rumors of affairs subplots may detract from the eponymous innocence somewhat. However, this backstory and additional Peterson references add extra layers, creating truth will out revelations and well done character conflicts.

Compared to the perfect starlets of today, Sigrid Thorton (Paradise, SeaChange) may seem slightly unrefined as The Man from Snowy River's young Victorian ingenue Jessica Harrison. Fortunately, this natural, fuller, warm look fits the period and the character – and Thorton's light eyes and dark hair remain a visually striking look. Granted, Jessica's in disguise introduction is somewhat typical, but her charm, sassy, and humor make up any difference along with the well matched Jim and Jessica pairing. There are a few progressive and slightly anachronistic conversations with modern feminism wording, but understandably, Jessica doesn't want to be bred or controlled under a man's thumb like women of the era. She's likable and smart, but has some growing up to do as well. Her reckless behavior and horsemanship mistakes in rebellion against her father's intention to see her a well married lady lead to some wonderful scenes and relatable angst. Aunt Rosemary Lorraine Bayly (Carson's Law) likewise adds a firm, elder society hand for Jessica, but she also recognizing her niece is worth more than “domestic dullness” and isn't afraid to say it. Rosemary has most of the family history exposition, but Bayly keeps the recounting compelling. Naturally, Terence Donovan (Neighbors) appears briefly in The Man from Snowy River as Jim's father Henry Craig, but his raising Jim right catalyst is felt throughout the picture while Jack Thompson's (Breaker Morant) “part bloodhound” Clancy rounds out the ensemble as a sarcastic but respected mountain man whose tall tales precede him.

Early town scenery and a brief train can make The Man from Snowy River seem small scale now. Though dark at times, the oil lamps and candlelit dining are appropriately sparse with rustic necessities or tea cups and minimal china to represent the frontier civilization. The tone isn't upscale and the costumes are probably plain, but these designs are more than serviceable in evoking that western feeling. Besides, the highlight of The Man from Snowy River is not the interiors but the stunning mountains, exceptional vistas, and more outdoor photography all done without our contemporary computer generated ease. The split screen scenes are seamless, and beautiful farmlands, rocky cliffs, and snow caps need no color alteration or visual saturation. The complex horse work and riding stunts in The Man from Snowy River, however, were surely not easy to film. Props to the cavalry picture In Pursuit of Honor, but up until the Ride of the Rohirrim in Return of the King, The Man from Snowy River's lengthy horseback finale was the most impressive horse sequence I'd seen on film. It's worth seeing this movie alone just for the dangerous descents, multi action pursuits, wagons, wild herds, and perilous terrain. In fact, knowing these scenes were done without special effects or massive crowd software perhaps makes it all the more awesome. The pulsing score, whip cracks, and hoof beats know when to be parallel the heart beating action or be silent. Tender themes and epic, sweeping arrangements build characters and scope while simmering notes accent subversion or scares. Subtle onscreen fumbling over playing “Fur Elise” on the piano also creates familiarity, smiles, and charm.

Yes, I still have my VHS copy of The Man from Snowy River, and it is pretty worn out after some daily viewings when I was a kid. My favorite part was always the whimsical slow motion snowscapes with such elevations and equine majesty amid the intensity! Although the affordable DVD can be found in stores or on Amazon, Netflix waits and save onlys make the film appear somewhat elusive along with the mostly unrelated but dang near impossible to find stateside Snowy River: The McGregor Saga television series starring Guy Pearce. It's a pity also that the Region 1 blu-ray edition of The Man from Snowy River is featureless – it would be nice to hear cast retrospectives or have some crew clarifications on a few of the stunts and rumored horse injuries, which may taint a viewing for animal lovers. Otherwise, there's little to deter one from enjoying The Man from Snowy River. Onscreen deaths could be upsetting to younger audiences, but most of the PG romantic subtleties will go over children's heads. From the dashing coming of age drama to captivating regions and poetry inside and out; horse lovers, period piece fans, and western enthusiasts young and old can find everything they need in The Man from Snowy River.