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Reviewed by Julie Hilden November 27, 2000
The Santa Spoiler; the Secret Son In a very tacky move, the local news station in my area (New York) advertised a special report on Robert Downey, Jr.'s latest trouble with the law, to follow tonight's Ally McBeal - and to include the tape of the 911 call from the holiday-spirit-lacking person who turned him in. The drug charges against Downey are an especially pressing problem from the dramedy's point of view; apparently Downey has yet to tape the last two Ally McBeal episodes he's signed up for. So much for television as escapism. Instead we're offered a new form of "reality TV," with a chronicle of Robert Downey Jr.'s own life to follow on the heels of the show's own chronicle of his television character's life. Fittingly, he complains to Ally on the show that he hates Christmas. (Given when he was arrested this holiday weekend, he must hate Thanksgiving even more.) Ally consoles him by reminding him that at least this Christmas, he won't be alone; after all, he has her - well, so we hope. A Santa Suit In another highly unrealistic Ally McBeal legal subplot, Fish & Cage decides to represent an anchorperson fired by WKGB, a local news station (but hopefully not one that covers Downey Jr.), because he announced that there is no Santa Claus. Unfortunately, the anchor guy decided to break the news expressly to kids, and to break it harshly, so he's not too sympathetic a plaintiff. Again, it seems that the buffet of legal complaints from which the show chooses to portray is as limited as the offerings at Sizzler's: the main choices, repeated show after show, seem to be employment termination, sexual harassment, annulment of a marriage, libel, and the very occasional bizarre murder. Clearly, Ally is not going to be litigating the Microsoft antitrust suit - or any antitrust suit - anytime soon. But maybe we should be thankful for that. When the head of the station takes the stand, he confesses that ratings haven't dropped, but claims that little kids were "poleaxed" by the announcement - including his own grandson. Then the station puts the grandson, Jacob, on the stand. The adorable tot breaks all our hearts, by breaking into tears. But Ling's brilliant cross-examination - probably the best on the show this year - deftly suggests that the lovable tot must have learned that Santa is a fiction long ago: "You thought eight tiny reindeer could drag this sleigh all over the world in one night? Are you retarded, Jacob?" In the end, she gets him to admit he thinks the idea of Santa Claus is "stupid." Nevertheless, the anchorman loses the case - in a jury decision, the wisdom of which is hard to assess, since the law governing this firing (whether contractual or statutory) is never made clear. The Desperate, the Near-Desperate, and the Woefully Off-Key Meanwhile, Elaine complains to everyone within hearing about being alone - and confesses to Marc that she hasn't had "a real boyfriend" in seven years and thus is "desperate." She's got a point about all the coupling up on the show. Even Cage is dating someone, even if it is Kimmie, who confesses she didn't find out there was no Santa Claus until her freshman year in college. But the couples - both Cage and Kimmie, and Ally and Larry, have their own problems. Kimmie, who has a thing for singing men, inspires Cage to claim falsely that he's a singer - and he promises to sing for her for Christmas. This puts him in a quandary; he's a terrible singer. Not only that, he gets terrible advice. Rather than advising Cage to fess up and tell Kimmie the truth, Fish recommends "a bigger lie." Cage decides to ignore his friend's advice and tell the truth instead, but can't go through with it - because Kimmie brings her mother on the next date, and her mother is equally enthused about men who sing. Again Fish dispenses advice. This time, he tells Cage to just cut it out and sing, pointing out "Bob Dylan has been singing for 35 years; he's yet to hit a note." Though I'm a huge Dylan fan, I must admit this is the show's best line. I've Got A Little List Meanwhile, Larry reveals to Ally that he has a seven-year-old son who lives in Detroit, and that he's ashamed that his son has grown up without his father. Not only that, but the son's mother is not Larry's ex-wife; it's another woman. Ally, in a surprising burst of newfound maturity, confesses that "I've spent my whole life crafting this little list of how things have to go when I meet someone," but that lately she's diverged from it; she just has to love the guy. Larry then confesses that Christmas sucks for him because he misses his son too much, and assures Ally that when she has a child, she'll be "stunned by the capacity you have to love somebody." Actually, I think it's more likely that she'll be stunned - as we all are - by her own continued narcissism. It's amazing how discussion of Larry's actual child can be shifted to discussion of Ally's hypothetical future child, and how he can end up consoling her. Don't Touch Those Keys Actually, to say a word in her defense, she does try to console him a little, later in the show. In an excruciatingly lame scene, Ally experiments with playing a number of different Christmas songs on the piano for Larry. But he then plays a whole, maudlin song for her that seems to be entitled "Cutting Down Christmas" - which Robert Downey, Jr. seems to be lip-synching, I think. Either that or he's a very weird, mime-like singer. Not only that, he later has to listen to Elaine sing "Tomorrow" at the top of her lungs - since he's encouraged her to dissipate Christmas blues through music. Isn't anyone on this show Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, or Buddhist? Even a Fish & Cage receptionist? Guess not. They all seem to have grown up immersed in Christmas lore. If the government were running this show, it would be an Establishment clause violation: It's Christianity or nothing. In addition to the pro-Christian message, there's also a subliminal, anti-Christmas music message - or at least, I seem to have received one. If there's any lesson from this show, it's that it would be better if, in the Christmas season, no one ever touched a piano key or opened his or her mouth to sing. At least the significant others don't mind. Elaine's singing, while painful, at least doesn't deter Marc from asking her out. And while Cage, dancing around and singing for Kimmie, resembles a horribly mutated member of the Backstreet Boys, Kimmie and her mother seem to love his performance nevertheless. Ally, too, responds to Larry's prior performance by simply urging him to sing and play the piano again. His version of "White Christmas" is so authentically terrible I begin to believe it's real; he's not lip-synching. But he chokes on the "and children listen" line. Still, Ally finishes the song with him - which is supposed, I guess, to suggest that she'll improve his Christmas at least a bit. Unless, that is, cocaine improves it first. Seriously, though, let's hope Robert Downey Jr. makes it through his recent troubles, and that the law does give him a second chance. After making him serve too much time before, as an appeals court recent found, the system owes him one. And even now, while he's still troubled, his remarkable talent is still evident in every line he speaks.
Julie Hilden, a FindLaw contributor, is the author of the memoir, The Bad Daughter. She practiced First Amendment law at the Washington D.C. law firm of Williams & Connolly from 1996-99. Her weekly reviews of the past season's Ally McBeal episodes are located in FindLaw's Insider Reviews archives. |
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