TMC
11-10-2015, 04:03 AM
http://www.avclub.com/article/poignant-post-puppy-episode-ellen-lost-her-virgini-227962
By Noel Murray
Nov 10, 2015 12:00 AM
A single television episode can exemplify the spirit of its time. A Very Special Episode presents The A.V. Club’s survey of TV at its most distinctive.
Were the 1990s the TV sitcom’s peak decade? If not then, when? The 1970s were revolutionary, with Norman Lear and Mary Tyler Moore’s production companies shaking up the situation comedy’s style and content. But their collective output was relatively modest, and by the end of the decade, their sophisticated, adult approach had been supplanted by shows that were cornier and catchier. The form really started to progress again at the end of the 1980s, when just about any stand-up comic who’d ever been on The Tonight Show got their own series. That influx of new comedy talent, coupled with the maturation of talented writers and directors who’d started on the likes of Taxi and Cheers, set the stage for a boom. Soon, the massive popularity of Roseanne, Seinfeld, and Friends had networks scrambling to fill as many nights as possible with comedies—most of them at least mildly enjoyable, and a few truly inspired.
For most of its run, Ellen DeGeneres’ Ellen fell on the “mildly enjoyable” side. In its early years especially, the show was a coaster, impassively riding various TV trends—from the presence of a stand-up in the lead to a premise that could best be described as “funny person hangs out with her kooky friends.” Ellen was never a big hit during its first three seasons, but it was a reliable performer for ABC and it had a solid fanbase thanks primarily to DeGeneres—a bright, likable screen presence whose motormouthed, endlessly digressive comic persona could be easily parceled out into one-liners.
Ellen’s writers, though, struggled to come up with stories to fit around the jokes—or at least ones that distinguished the show from every other contemporary sitcom about the petty daily gripes of middle-class white folks in their 20s and 30s. Often the lead just reacted to the latest folly of one of her pals: a shifting cast of characters played by TV vets like Joely Fisher, David Anthony Higgins, and Jeremy Piven. Occasionally the producers would try to force DeGeneres’ Ellen Morgan character into romantic plot-lines, but she was never that convincing playing boy-crazy, which cut off a lot of conventional sitcom avenues.
Then on April 30, 1997, ABC aired “The Puppy Episode,” an hourlong Ellen laden with cameos by Oprah Winfrey, Demi Moore, Billy Bob Thornton, Dwight Yoakam, Melissa Etheridge, k.d. lang, and Gina Gershon. The most important guest star was Laura Dern, playing Susan, a woman whom Ellen would develop a crush on, which would help her to admit that she’d been suppressing her homosexuality her entire life. Rumors about the content of the episode spread for nearly a year before it aired, and the big revelation was winked at and teased throughout Ellen’s fourth season. Then on April 14, Time published a cover story on DeGeneres with the headline, “Yep, I’m Gay,” confirming what was already widely suspected. The subsequent hype surrounding “The Puppy Episode” drove viewership to over 40 million. The series went on to win an Emmy that year for Outstanding Writing, and “The Puppy Episode” is still considered a watershed moment in television, clearing the way for more LGBT content.
What’s sometimes forgotten is that Ellen stayed on the air for a full year’s worth of episodes after DeGeneres came out. There were two more episodes in season four, dealing with the aftermath of her announcement. Season five tested ABC’s commitment to airing a sitcom about an openly gay woman. As groundbreaking as “The Puppy Episode” was, Ellen’s fifth season went even further, as the writers explored the ripple effect of their heroine embracing her sexuality. Suddenly, they had a lot of stories to tell. How would this change affect the way Ellen interacted with her friends and family? Would she keep the same job? Would she get politically radicalized? And—most importantly—would she get a girlfriend?
Ellen did in fact find somebody early in season five: Laurie (played by Lisa Darr), a single mother with a sense of humor. In the season’s ninth episode, “Like A Virgin,” Ellen has sex with Laurie for the first time. This was an inevitable turn of events for any show about a healthy adult lesbian. But it was way beyond primetime network television’s usual handling of gay female sexuality, which tended to treat a woman lusting after another woman as something shocking, sinister, silly, or softly pornographic.
“Like A Virgin” is more tender than titillating. Its pacing and humor come across as a little stiff at times, but the way the story plays out still feels fresh and honest. The first half builds to what looks to be a conventional bit of Ellen-style farce, before taking an unexpected turn. When Ellen finds out that Laurie’s daughter is going away for a ski trip, she plans to invite her girlfriend over for a special weekend, which she sheepishly describes to her friends—who make fun of her for acting like the jittery virgin that, at this point in her life, she’s belatedly become. But then Laurie surprises Ellen with her own romantic night, and our heroine panics and makes up an excuse to flee.
The second half of “Like A Virgin” deals first with Ellen’s embarrassment over bailing—which she talks over with her gay friend Peter—and then follows her return to Laurie’s apartment. The latter scene in particular plays out in a much lower key than usual, as Ellen tries to explain how the idea of sleeping with a woman is both exciting and strange to her, and how she’s afraid she’s going to derail her first really important romantic relationship due to her own anxieties and hang-ups. The two women talk through the night on the living room sofa, where Ellen eventually falls asleep on Laurie’s chest—a more touchingly intimate image than any sex scene could’ve been. Then they wake up, take each other’s hands, and walk down the hall to the bedroom before the credits roll.
The script for “Like A Virgin” is credited to writer Jane Espenson, who was still fairly new to TV in 1997, and would go on to greater acclaim as a contributor to Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Battlestar Galactica, and is currently writing for Once Upon A Time. When I e-mailed Espenson to ask a few questions about the episode and Ellen in general, she was quick to point out that sitcom writing is highly collaborative, and suggested that I also get in touch with Ellen’s show-runner for season five, Tim Doyle.
By Noel Murray
Nov 10, 2015 12:00 AM
A single television episode can exemplify the spirit of its time. A Very Special Episode presents The A.V. Club’s survey of TV at its most distinctive.
Were the 1990s the TV sitcom’s peak decade? If not then, when? The 1970s were revolutionary, with Norman Lear and Mary Tyler Moore’s production companies shaking up the situation comedy’s style and content. But their collective output was relatively modest, and by the end of the decade, their sophisticated, adult approach had been supplanted by shows that were cornier and catchier. The form really started to progress again at the end of the 1980s, when just about any stand-up comic who’d ever been on The Tonight Show got their own series. That influx of new comedy talent, coupled with the maturation of talented writers and directors who’d started on the likes of Taxi and Cheers, set the stage for a boom. Soon, the massive popularity of Roseanne, Seinfeld, and Friends had networks scrambling to fill as many nights as possible with comedies—most of them at least mildly enjoyable, and a few truly inspired.
For most of its run, Ellen DeGeneres’ Ellen fell on the “mildly enjoyable” side. In its early years especially, the show was a coaster, impassively riding various TV trends—from the presence of a stand-up in the lead to a premise that could best be described as “funny person hangs out with her kooky friends.” Ellen was never a big hit during its first three seasons, but it was a reliable performer for ABC and it had a solid fanbase thanks primarily to DeGeneres—a bright, likable screen presence whose motormouthed, endlessly digressive comic persona could be easily parceled out into one-liners.
Ellen’s writers, though, struggled to come up with stories to fit around the jokes—or at least ones that distinguished the show from every other contemporary sitcom about the petty daily gripes of middle-class white folks in their 20s and 30s. Often the lead just reacted to the latest folly of one of her pals: a shifting cast of characters played by TV vets like Joely Fisher, David Anthony Higgins, and Jeremy Piven. Occasionally the producers would try to force DeGeneres’ Ellen Morgan character into romantic plot-lines, but she was never that convincing playing boy-crazy, which cut off a lot of conventional sitcom avenues.
Then on April 30, 1997, ABC aired “The Puppy Episode,” an hourlong Ellen laden with cameos by Oprah Winfrey, Demi Moore, Billy Bob Thornton, Dwight Yoakam, Melissa Etheridge, k.d. lang, and Gina Gershon. The most important guest star was Laura Dern, playing Susan, a woman whom Ellen would develop a crush on, which would help her to admit that she’d been suppressing her homosexuality her entire life. Rumors about the content of the episode spread for nearly a year before it aired, and the big revelation was winked at and teased throughout Ellen’s fourth season. Then on April 14, Time published a cover story on DeGeneres with the headline, “Yep, I’m Gay,” confirming what was already widely suspected. The subsequent hype surrounding “The Puppy Episode” drove viewership to over 40 million. The series went on to win an Emmy that year for Outstanding Writing, and “The Puppy Episode” is still considered a watershed moment in television, clearing the way for more LGBT content.
What’s sometimes forgotten is that Ellen stayed on the air for a full year’s worth of episodes after DeGeneres came out. There were two more episodes in season four, dealing with the aftermath of her announcement. Season five tested ABC’s commitment to airing a sitcom about an openly gay woman. As groundbreaking as “The Puppy Episode” was, Ellen’s fifth season went even further, as the writers explored the ripple effect of their heroine embracing her sexuality. Suddenly, they had a lot of stories to tell. How would this change affect the way Ellen interacted with her friends and family? Would she keep the same job? Would she get politically radicalized? And—most importantly—would she get a girlfriend?
Ellen did in fact find somebody early in season five: Laurie (played by Lisa Darr), a single mother with a sense of humor. In the season’s ninth episode, “Like A Virgin,” Ellen has sex with Laurie for the first time. This was an inevitable turn of events for any show about a healthy adult lesbian. But it was way beyond primetime network television’s usual handling of gay female sexuality, which tended to treat a woman lusting after another woman as something shocking, sinister, silly, or softly pornographic.
“Like A Virgin” is more tender than titillating. Its pacing and humor come across as a little stiff at times, but the way the story plays out still feels fresh and honest. The first half builds to what looks to be a conventional bit of Ellen-style farce, before taking an unexpected turn. When Ellen finds out that Laurie’s daughter is going away for a ski trip, she plans to invite her girlfriend over for a special weekend, which she sheepishly describes to her friends—who make fun of her for acting like the jittery virgin that, at this point in her life, she’s belatedly become. But then Laurie surprises Ellen with her own romantic night, and our heroine panics and makes up an excuse to flee.
The second half of “Like A Virgin” deals first with Ellen’s embarrassment over bailing—which she talks over with her gay friend Peter—and then follows her return to Laurie’s apartment. The latter scene in particular plays out in a much lower key than usual, as Ellen tries to explain how the idea of sleeping with a woman is both exciting and strange to her, and how she’s afraid she’s going to derail her first really important romantic relationship due to her own anxieties and hang-ups. The two women talk through the night on the living room sofa, where Ellen eventually falls asleep on Laurie’s chest—a more touchingly intimate image than any sex scene could’ve been. Then they wake up, take each other’s hands, and walk down the hall to the bedroom before the credits roll.
The script for “Like A Virgin” is credited to writer Jane Espenson, who was still fairly new to TV in 1997, and would go on to greater acclaim as a contributor to Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Battlestar Galactica, and is currently writing for Once Upon A Time. When I e-mailed Espenson to ask a few questions about the episode and Ellen in general, she was quick to point out that sitcom writing is highly collaborative, and suggested that I also get in touch with Ellen’s show-runner for season five, Tim Doyle.