Did you know that Curb Your Enthusiasm may have saved a man’s life? And it wasn’t by extolling
the hunger-saving potential of edible underwear. When Juan Catalan was arrested for the murder of
Martha Puebla, he swore that he couldn’t have been the perpetrator. He said he had been at a Dodgers
game with his daughter at the time of the crime, but his story and the ticket stubs he produced did
nothing to sway authorities. If convicted, Catalan might’ve faced the death penalty.
As it turns out, Curb had been filming its legendary “Carpool Lane” episode at Dodger
Stadium on the day of the murder. Catalan’s defense attorney eventually got his hands on
the production’s raw footage, and found evidence that Catalan and his daughter *were* at the game,
as claimed. Along with further exonerating evidence, the footage helped free Catalan
after five months in jail. The city of Los Angeles and the LAPD eventually
awarded a six-figure sum to Catalan in a settlement. As Curb creator Larry David
tells it, “ …I’ve now done one decent thing in my life, albeit inadvertently.”
TV’s impact on our life usually isn’t that dramatic,
but it has occupied an increasingly prominent place in our culture over the last two decades.
It’s the subject of the latest book from Mental Floss, The Curious Viewer,
which came out yesterday. There’s a link in the description if you want to learn more. The book
is about the golden age of television, on the screen and behind the scenes,
and I’m going to share a few of our favorite facts from it with you today. Let’s get started.
Arrested Development viewers know that there’s always money in the banana stand,
and they might even sport some modesty-preserving jean shorts on occasion.
But they may not realize that the Bluth Company Stair Car is part of the Marvel Cinematic
Universe. The Russo Brothers, a directing duo whose credits include Avengers: Endgame,
helmed more than a dozen episodes of AD, including the show’s pilot. They put the Bluth family stair
car in the background of an airport fight scene in 2016’s Captain America: Civil War,
meaning, in my head canon at least, that Tobias Funke might’ve been a casualty of the snap.
I have no word, unfortunately, as to whether Chris Evans performed a hop-on in between shots.
In 2006, the trade publication Broadcasting and Cable conducted a critics’ poll. The landslide
winner for Best Overall New Program was a comedy about the backstage goings-on of a Saturday Night
Live-like sketch comedy show. Tina Fey and company weren’t celebrating, though. The promising show,
according to the poll, was Aaron Sorkin’s Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. A year later,Studio 60 was
off the air, while 30 Rock would go on to run for seven seasons and rack up many Emmy awards
for its cast and creative team. Sorkin took the setback in stride, later guest starring as himself
on 30 Rock, where he was vying for a coveted job as a writer on Nick Lachey’s The Sing-Off.
Lost left viewers with plenty of questions, but there’s one mystery I can solve for you right now.
On the show, Dominic Monaghan’s Charlie Pace is the bassist for a fictional band,
Driveshaft. The lyrics for that one hit song are a bit cryptic, but they didn’t come to
J.J. Abrams in a dream, and Damon Lindelof didn’t need to toil away for hours to craft lines like
“You all everybody is acting like it’s the stupid people wearing the expensive clothes.” Those words
actually came directly from an audience member on an old episode of The Phil Donahue Show.
Lost’s creative team grew so fond of repeating those nonsensical words behind-the-scenes
that they eventually repurposed them into the lyrics of Driveshaft’s “You All Everybody.”
When you think of groundbreaking television, your mind might not immediately go to Grey’s Anatomy.
But in ways large and small, the medical drama has pushed the medium forward. Series creator
Shonda Rhimes recalled a dustup with standards and practices after the writers were told they were
using the word vagina too many times in a single script—a note that had been conspicuously absent
for an episode that used the word penis seventeen times. One solution the show found was using the
apparently acceptable euphemism vajayjay, which soon gained traction in the wider culture.
Off-screen, the show made its own strides towards gender parity, spearheaded by executive producer
Debbie Allen. Allen made it a goal to hire more women for directing jobs on the show,
and to increase the number of Black directors, male or female.
Fans of Fleag Bag probably can’t imagine the second season without Andrew Scott’s “Hot Priest.”
If so, they’re in good company. Series creator and
star Phoebe Waller-Bridge wrote the part specifically for Scott,
and even said that the second season might not have happened had he not signed on to the show.
Issa Rae’s Insecure presents a Los Angeles that feels broader,
even, than what we see on screen. And that lived-in feeling extends to the
more ridiculous elements of the show. The fictional shows-within-the-show seen on the
characters’ TVs all have their would-be devotees amongst the Insecure fan base,
but one of those programs had a unique extension into the real world. Looking for Latoya,
a faux documentary seen in season 4, was expanded upon in a 34 minute “true” crime podcast episode.
Spinoff series are often derided for their lack of originality, but some have earned their place
in the television firmament. Frasier’s farcical plotting and urbane wit make it a success distinct
even from the legendary Cheers; Better Call Saul is firmly in the universe of Breaking Bad,
but it brings a depth and dimension to Saul Goodman (nee Jimmy McGill)
that lets it stand on its own. Other spin offs were, shall we say, less fully successful.
If you’ve ever wondered why someone named Will Krudski appears in season three of Dawson’s Creek,
presented as an old friend of the gang (whom they had suspiciously never mentioned before),
the answer lies in the fleeting spinoff Young Americans, which followed Krudski
and friends at the tony Rawley Academy. Young Americans may have mirrored Dawson with its New
England setting and oddly articulate teens, but its dearth of Paula Cole needle drops
and James Van Der Beek’s gravity-defying locks evidently doomed it to obscurity.
I suggested we mention the Dawson crying face meme in this section, and was swiftly challenged
to a crying face-off. Justin is out sick today, so my competition will be video producer Jon Mayer.
Let us know who best embodied Dawson’s insufferable angst in the comments.
The Golden Palace borrowed most of the cast and the titular adjective from its predecessor,
The Golden Girls. It even threw in wonderful character actors Don Cheadle and Cheech Marin
into its story about an understaffed Miami hotel. Still, it lasted just one season before
hanging up the Vacancy sign on its timeslot. Never underestimate the power of Bea Arthur.
And a special dishonorable mention goes to what may be the least creatively
named spinoff of all time: AfterMASH. The series was unafraid to ask the question,
“What if we focused on three of MASH’s minor characters,
far from the war-torn setting that gave rise to the original film and TV show?” The answer,
unfortunately, was the 7th worst television show of all time, according to TV Guide.
The spin-off’s odd cousin is the crossover episode, wherein two television universes collide.
It’s weird enough to see Cheers’ Norm and Cliff in the Nantucket airport of Wings, but
how about the time Alf appeared on Mr. Robot?
It might seem like a bizarre choice, but it made perfect sense to Mr. Robot writer Adam Penn. As he
said, “ … ALF was literally marooned on a planet away from home, isolated in a house, forced to try
to fit in and connect with a family of strangers. There are certainly weird parallels between [Mr.
Robot’s] Elliot and ALF, which made the choice of our guest star seem like a no-brainer.”
Deadwood takes an almost sociological approach to questions around community and individuality,
and how the two can exist in opposition and accord. But while series creator
David Milch researched the real Wild West town of Deadwood, South Dakota,
he knew when to sacrifice historical accuracy for artistic impact. Take the characters’ poetic
swearing, for example: While people in the social milieu of Deadwood would very likely have cursed,
as they do on the show, late 19th-century terms like goldarn and tarnation probably
wouldn’t have had the desired impact on contemporary viewers. The anachronistic f-word,
which didn’t really emerge until the 1920s, was often used instead, to the tune of nearly 1.5
f-bombs per minute, according to the tabulations of one dedicated viewer.
Deadwood’s sprawling cast is a mix of original characters and fictionalized
versions of historical figures like Wild Bill Hickok and Al Swearengen.
Iconic characters from some other shows took inspiration from lesser-known real world people.
On Community, Danny Pudi played Abed Nadir, inspired by Dan Harmon’s friend and colleague,
Abed Gheith. Gheith says that he’s “ … a bit more aware socially” than the fictional Abed, which,
if you’ve seen the show, isn’t saying very much.
Basil Fawlty, from Fawlty Towers, was also based on a real person—a
hotel owner and manager named Donald Sinclair, who once hosted John Cleese and his Monty Python
compatriots. Cleese called Sinclair “the most wonderfully rude man I have ever met.”
As far as I know, Twin Peaks’ log lady is not based on a real person, but she has her own
interesting backstory. Actress Catherine Coulson appeared in David Lynch’s debut film, Eraserhead.
He told Coulson, “Someday I’ll do a series and you’ll play a girl with a log.”
I would expect nothing less from David Lynch.
And The Simpsons has had some incredible guest stars over the years,
including Johnny Cash as a spirit guide coyote and the reclusive Thomas Pynchon as himself.
(Pynchon even edited his own dialogue, removing an insult directed at Homer
because, quote, “Homer is my role model and I can’t speak ill of him.”)
But the series’ most concise guest-turn probably belongs to Elizabeth Taylor.
Years before Taylor portrayed herself on the show, she voiced Maggie in a one-line
performance, bringing to life the baby’s first word: “daddy.”
There’s a fun story about an unscripted line
Taylor uttered in the voiceover booth while filming her one word of dialogue,
but I’ll save that for the book, which is a little more R-rated. Or, TV-MA, I guess....
Our next episode is about stage magic. Drop your favorite magician of all time,
non-Gob-Bluth-division, into the comments, and maybe we’ll cover them in the video. See you then!