Another major hit from the past is returning to Aussie screens – 90s sitcom Murphy Brown is back, aiming at the not-too-hard task of getting some laughs out of the increasingly absurd Trump era.
CHECK OUT A PREVIEW OF MURPHY BROWN BELOW
There’s clearly plenty of material to work with, but is it funny, and is it worth checking out when it returns on Ten on November 26?
Sadly, the answer to both questions is a resounding no. There was rare, unanimous condemnation by all three hosts on WHO’s TV podcast, Binge List when we discussed the show this week, so what is the problem?
I used to really enjoy Murphy Brown back in the day, as did a lot of people – it was a huge hit in Australia. But, somewhat strangely, I can’t say I’ve thought about it much since, and it certainly hasn’t enjoyed the enduring cultural presence of some of its contemporaries, like Friends or Roseanne.
Now I understand why.
This is the first major sitcom revival that has fallen flat on its face, both critically and with audiences – the US ratings have been tepid to say the least, and there’s growing buzz that there won’t be another season.
The problem is that it’s just not funny, with a clunkily retro energy that’s hopelessly out of step with the times, despite being obsessively anti-Trump.
Taking such a political stand is loaded with comic potential – as long as the material works. Here the anachronistic, tone deaf delivery mean the political focus just becomes laughless monotony.
We start with Murphy wearing a sweater branding her as ‘The Original Nasty Woman’ – and after her victorious clashes with the ridiculous Dan Quayle that’s a well-deserved title. But none of those old home runs against the political establishment are in evidence here – despite the revival bringing out the biggest of big guns.
The show reaches its nadir with a very flat cameo from Hillary Clinton, a moment that’s dismally written and lamely delivered. Don’t give up your day job, Hillary.
In these increasingly tense times, what this world needs is some great, incisive political satire, but this isn’t it.
Star Candice Bergen even gets to reference her real-life, college-era date with Donald Trump in the script. So, it’s not like the writers didn’t have some great material to work with.
Murphy’s onscreen son Avery (Jake McDorman) – who created such a scandal by being born out of wedlock all those years ago – is now all grown up, and in competition with his mother on TV.
Clearly based on Ronan Farrow, the character is one of the few innovations on a show mired by established relationships with ossified characters like Miles, Corky and Frank, a situation that gives little room to move, innovate or effectively react to the times. Compare and contrast with the energised and updated relationships on The Conners.
Ironically, there’s a reference to Roseanne Barr when Murphy takes to Twitter and is warned, ‘Think before you tweet, shows have been cancelled for less’.
It’s just a reminder that The Conners is a superior show and does political and social commentary so much better, without resembling a particularly off-key 90s cartoon.
Watch that excellent revival instead.
To hear our full and fiery discussion about both Murphy Brown and The Conners, listen to the latest episode of Binge List. Details below…
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