Déjà vu
Martin Short and the Emmys
by Robert David Sullivan
The frenetic Martin Short gets on a lot of people's
nerves, often intentionally, which makes him an odd
choice as host of yet another celebrity talk show. He begins each episode of
The Martin Short Show (which premiered last week and airs weekdays at 10
a.m. on Channel 5) with a schmaltzy musical number, usually a tribute to the
absolute wonderfulness of life that makes you want to fast-forward to the
inevitable pratfall at the song's end. As an interviewer, he seems determined
to home in on his guest's personal connection to the off-stage "Marty" Short --
searching for an anecdote about the time they met, or the time that the guest
was fooled by Short's uncanny impression of Katharine Hepburn. As a player in
the show's frequent comic bits, he often returns to characters I wish he'd
retired long ago, such as chain-smoking lawyer Nathan Thurm or ancient
songwriter Irving Cohen, or impressions of celebrities who aren't distinctive
enough to mock, like Janeane Garofalo.
Short's attempt to parody and praise pop culture on the same show produces
some odd moments, as when he earnestly asked the audience to welcome "a true,
true idol, by the name of Eric Idle." Maybe he was being purposely awful here
-- channeling an old SCTV character, the sycophantic interviewer Brock
Linehan. Or maybe he was just reaching for any clump of words to carry him into
the next segment. Not that it really makes a difference to us at home.
The Martin Short Show does have the potential to become a smart
counterweight to The Rosie O'Donnell Show (weekdays at 4 p.m. on Channel
5), sort of a Forbidden Broadway to Rosie's relentless "I Love New York"
campaign. The show's first week had at least two moments that hit the mark. In
one, Short played a new character named Jiminy Glick, a fawning but
stupendously ill-informed reporter grabbing celebrities en route to the Emmy
Awards. (He congratulated Dennis Franz on his nomination for Saved by the
Bell.) The other hit was an appearance by Steve Martin, who sat down and
solemnly told Short, "Please, no questions." Martin also slipped in a reference
to Chevy Chase, whose failed attempt at a talk show must have reassured Short
that his show probably wouldn't end up as the biggest flop starring an
ex-member of Saturday Night Live.
The first week also cleared up the mystery of what happened to The Kids in
the Hall's Kevin McDonald, who turns up in various comedy bits and usually
plays a deranged audience member (much like Chris Elliott on David Letterman's
original late-night series). Short and McDonald are both gifted, energetic
actors whose talents are wasted in a talk-show format. In a perfect TV world,
they would be injecting some life into Saturday Night Live scripts, and
the cerebral, quick-witted Steve Martin would be the one with a talk show. For
now, we can hope that the five-show-a-week grind will induce Short to move
beyond mutual-admiration chats with Martin, Billy Crystal, et al. and to
develop some new characters. (At least Jackie Rogers Jr. didn't show up during
the first week.)
LAST WEEK'S EMMY celebration was a disappointment to anyone hoping that
innovative TV programs would receive some recognition: almost every award went
to a program or individual that had won before. Well, an inside source has
explained to me what happened.
Emmy voters are volunteers from the TV industry whose identities are kept
secret. They are divided into panels, ranging in number from seven to 70, that
vote for the winners in pre-assigned categories (this much is official info
from the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences). The problem is that most of
the voters prefer to watch television with the sound off so as not to wear down
the batteries on their hearing aids. Thus, courtroom dramas like The
Practice and Ally McBeal win because the voters can follow the
trials through the facial expressions of the judges and lawyers. Sadly, the
voters never even watched most of the show that should have won for best drama
this year, HBO's The Sopranos. Whenever they saw a scene of Tony
visiting his mother in the nursing home, they panicked, thinking they were
watching a surveillance camera in their own nursing home. By the time
the Academy president coaxed them out of the bathrooms, the episode was over.
As for all the repeat acting winners, it's unfair to castigate the voters
because they simply did not remember that Helen Hunt, Dennis Franz, John
Lithgow, etc. had all won several times before. They went into deliberations
with the vague recollection that Lucille Ball and Red Skelton had won already,
and they were proud of themselves for recognizing hot young talents like Mel
Brooks ("Uncle Phil" on that cutting-edge, saucy sit-com Mad About
You).
The award to John Leguizamo (Freak) was an honest mistake. Leguizamo
bears a striking resemblance to the guy who brings Emmy voters their daily
tapioca pudding, and they were afraid that he'd spit in their food if he didn't
win.