Author: Philip J Reed

And so, dear readers, we come to the end of season two, and the midway point of this entire project. I’ve been thinking about it, recently, and I have a few things I’d like to say about the experiment as a whole, but since Season Two Reviewed is coming up so soon, I think I’ll save it for that.

Before we dig into this — an episode I’ve been looking forward to since we started and the last episode before the precipitous drop in quality that is season three — I do want to make an announcement. Next week there will be no ALF. That’s because next Thursday is the day that The Lost Worlds of Power is finally getting released. So tune in for that. I promise, it’ll be worth postponing the season two bonus features.

After that, we’ll be back to business as usual. A handful of wrap-up articles, and then we dive headlong into the shallow pool that is ALF‘s homestretch.

Also, I will very soon be announcing the details of this year’s Noiseless Chatter Xmas Stream. If you were there last year, thank you. It was a genuinely great time, and I look forward to surpassing it in every possible way this time around. It’s also going to be a charity event benefiting The Trevor Project, so be sure to stop by!

Anyway, “Varsity Drag.” When I first started doing this project, I saw a few plot summaries. Nothing too spoilery, thankfully…just a sentence here or there about the main thrust of an episode. This one stood out to me immediately, because from the very first episode of this show, there’s been a serious logistical concern that’s never been directly addressed: the Tanner family’s finances.

The first thing ALF did on Earth was destroy their garage, and it’s only gotten worse since. Cars have been wrecked, hotels have been burnt down, and the home has been demolished many times over…often deliberately. ALF has been steadily bankrupting these people, whether the show wanted us to notice that fact or not.

And, here’s the thing: that’s okay. I don’t turn on a new episode of ALF and rage myself hoarse over the fact that it doesn’t open with Willie living in a cardboard box. It’s a sitcom, and you expect a certain elasticity. Especially when…y’know…it stars a naked alien that lives in the hamper.

But I’m interested in this, because it’s a legitimate angle for the show to take. 50 episodes in, it’s understandable that fresh ideas are harder to come by. That’s the case even on great shows. So for ALF to stumble upon something that’s not only fresh, but which digs into a largely ignored tension at the very heart of the show, well, that’s really cool.

Los Angeles isn’t a cheap place to live. The Tanners own a large home in what seems to be a quiet and safe part of the city, which implies that they’re paying more than the vast majority of people who share that city with them. On top of that, they’re a single-income family. And on top of that, Willie is a social worker. Social workers are important, and it’s a noble calling. But if you’ve ever known one, you already know that their salaries are insultingly low. In reality, there’s no way that the Tanners could stay afloat with ALF buttfucking all their earthly possessions to hell and back on a weekly basis.

Not that ALF’s drag on the family’s cashflow has never been mentioned before. It has…but only as the setup to a single joke or sequence. It’s never driven an episode the way it promises to here.

I don’t require “reality” in my sitcoms. I require some recognizable conflicts and dynamics. Good writing helps. Good acting helps. Beyond that? Go nuts.

But here the introduction of this “realistic” problem is tantalizing. It feels like “Varsity Drag” means something, and it’s something that’s been building for the past 49 episodes while we weren’t paying attention. It even ties in with something else that feels suspiciously like forward motion: Lynn going to college.

This could be good. And…a lot of it is.

The episode opens with Brian coming home and cheerily greeting ALF, who barely looks up from his reading material to say hi. It’s remarkable how clearly the lack of interest in this kid shines through. Brian all but ignored by ALF in person, and then when ALF looks through the mail he panics on the grounds that Lynn got an acceptance letter from Amherst College in Massachusetts. If Lynn goes there, she won’t be around anymore, and ALF is devastated.

ALF tells all of this to Brian, who stands there quietly absorbing the knowledge that even the lonely spaceman refugee of an extinct civilization wants nothing to do with him.

The sight of ALF in a t-shirt and sweater vest is hilarious to me in ways that I can’t even begin to express. He’s doting over Lynn, making sure she understands how sad he will be when she goes away, because the Tanners don’t have any other children. Maybe if they had a son, or something, things would be different. Especially if he was young, because children are full of wonder. It would be easy to forge an exciting relationship. In fact, you’d almost have to work not to. Children are always surprised. Everything’s new to them. An alien playmate from a distant world would be so welcome!

But, alas, it’s not to be. Kate’s womb has shriveled with resentment, and Willie’s penis can only discharge puffs of crack smoke.

A few very nice things happen here. Andrea Elson is still not a great actress by any means, but she’s gotten better at tipping into “very good” territory. Her promise to keep in touch with ALF is adorable, and perfectly in line with the sweet relationship these two passively formed once ALF stopped trying to fuck her. And there’s a little moment of internal giddiness that she plays perfectly when she explains that moving out will allow her to make her own decisions…and her own mistakes.

That’s wonderfully observed. So much of the time, yes, teenagers think they know everything. And that gets them into trouble. But the rest of the time…well, they know they’re getting into trouble, and they do it anyway. Making mistakes is fun. There is a giddiness to it, and coming from a family in which listening to Willie cry himself to sleep qualifies as a hobby, Lynn has a lot to look forward to.

Should she drink too much? Sleep around? Lie about where she’s going? Cheat? Backstab her friends? Slack off on the school work? Spend grocery money on things she doesn’t need?

No, she shouldn’t. And yet…of course she should.

Teens need to make mistakes. Those that don’t…well, they end up making those mistakes as adults, when it’s too late to get away with them.

There needs to be an element of moderation, of course. Lynn waking up with a hangover, for instance, is a mistake…but it’s not as bad as her driving drunk and killing someone. Which is why that level of awareness — and, yes, giddiness — is useful. If she knows she’s making mistakes, she’s aware enough to regulate their severity. She can push the limits of her morals and good sense without pushing the limits of outright stupidity. It’s an important part of growing up, and Lynn barely suppressing her excitement at the fact that she’ll soon get to experience it is one of the highlights of the episode.

Oh, and to go back to the relationship she’s forged with ALF: much like the premise of this episode itself, isn’t it funny how when the writers stop trying to force ideas on the show, something far more natural and enjoyable fills the void?

ALF has potential…it’s just not in the direction the writing staff wants it to be.

Willie and Kate come in and shoo ALF out of the room, which is usually the best part of any episode. And, snarky as I meant that to be, it really does lead to a pretty great scene.

They need to talk to Lynn alone, because they have some bad news. No matter how they slice it, they can’t afford to send Lynn away for college.

So much about this exchange is perfect. The way the realization dawns on Andrea Elson before she’s told, causing her to turn slowly away from her parents and retreat inwardly to keep from crying. Willie speaking euphemistically about what drained their finances, even though they all know it’s ALF. Kate explaining that the plan was for her to get a full-time job…until their unexpected house guest showed up and needed ’round-the-clock supervision.

These are things that make sense within the reality of the show. I spoke in the “Tequila” review a few weeks ago about the necessity of contrivance. But whereas “Tequila” contrived a situation by saying “fuck it, who cares” and throwing logic out the window, “Varsity Drag” contrives its situation by linking it up with unexpected answers to questions that we should have been asking all along.

Here, at this point, “Varisty Drag” feels like we’re checking in with a family. We can imagine what this might have been like. There’s no way this financial catastrophe is only being recognized by Willie and Kate right now…but what could they do? Tell her sooner and breed resentment? Or wait and hope that she changes her mind about wanting to travel so far for school?

It’s a question with no right or wrong answer. There was no way to come out of this situation on top, so you can’t fault them. Especially when they don’t beat around the bush. They know this is going to upset their daughter…but they tell her anyway. Flat out. ALF’s name doesn’t get mentioned until she calls them on it, but everything else they tell her is honest and direct. They’re doing the last thing any good parent ever wants to do: admit that they’ve let their child down.

Elson’s performance is marvelous here. The news hit me like a gut punch, not because it was unexpected — I’d read this synopsis, remember — but because I believed that it devastated Lynn. From suppressed giggle to suppressed anger in the space of just a few lines, and Elson actually manages to make us believe in it.

Again, she’s not great, but watching her grow so much as an actress has been one of ALF‘s most consistent pleasures.

There’s another great moment toward the end of this scene, when Willie begins with “If it’s any consolation…” and you just know it’s going to be painful.

He tells her that they’ve had a rare, one-of-a-kind opportunity to live with and observe a creature from another world. One of the far too rare acknowledgments of just how fucking batshit nuts the premise of this show is. And it gives Willie a chance to nerd out about it for the first time since…I don’t know. The pilot?

His excitability is palpable…and it overrides his awareness of what his daughter is feeling. There’s no laughter here, which means this is being played straight, and that sells the absurdity even better. This is a painful moment…and “Varsity Drag” is smart enough to let it be painful.

At breakfast (or whenthefuckever) the next day (or whenthefuckever) Brian gives a lecture on how to eat an Oreo cookie, so you really know they’ve given up all hope for this kid. There’s a decently funny line when ALF says that twisting to top off and licking up all the gooey stuff is the same method he uses to eat a jar of mayonnaise. What really impresses me is that they take such a throwaway line (funny though it is) and tie it right back into the plot, having Lynn sarcastically highlight this as an example of the great education she’ll get by staying home.

It’s undercut by some more first-draft writing, though. In “I’m Your Puppet” there was this weird moment where it seemed like Willie was supposed to say “packing peanuts” instead of “Styrofoam,” as only the first would make sense in the context of ALF’s joke that they tasted stale.

Here, ALF concludes that everyone’s upset because they want Lynn out of the house, and he asks if it’s because she drinks milk straight out of the carton.

It makes sense, except that throughout the scene, we see Lynn carrying milk in a glass jug.

This is the kind of thing that’s likely enough to happen. The writers are doing their thing in one room, and the props department is doing their thing elsewhere. The writers ask for a milk carton, the props department gives them a milk jug. Why not, right? They don’t know there’s a joke relying on it unless they’re told there’s one. And if this lack of second takes and simple rewrites for the sake of continuity tells us anything, it’s that nobody cares enough to get these things right.

Many things could have been done here. Paul Fusco could have changed the word “carton” to “jug” when he said his line. Somebody could have run out for a real carton of milk and swapped out the prop. Or they could have just told Elson not to carry around the jug at all since the joke doesn’t require the visual.

All very simple solutions. And yet, they just keep rolling.

It reminds me of a moment in one of my favorite shows of all time: Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace. It was a parody of poorly-made television, done both lovingly and brilliantly. In one episode, the main character’s superior chastises him and then asks, “Understood?!” The main character sternly replies, “As crystal.”

The joke — not spelled out for the audience — is that the superior got his line wrong, and there was no retake. He was supposed to ask, “Clear?!” But they kept rolling, nobody seemed to notice, and the line that was meant to build upon it was rendered nonsensical.

I am reminded of that moment a lot watching ALF. You get their intentions, much of the time anyway, but the distance between those intentions and the reality of what we’re watching is comically wide. ALF, as much time and agony as it took to make, comes across as hilariously inept. ALF itself is its own best joke.

Lynn reiterates her frustrations and storms off, which spurs some nice lament on the part of her parents. It hurts them that they can’t give their daughter what she wants, and there’s a nice dynamic at play here: ALF is the reason they can’t give her what she wants…and they also don’t want to upset ALF.

Put aside the bizarre fact that this, logically, cements ALF as more important to them than their own daughter, and focus only on those points. The ALF writers even at their best aren’t up to the challenge, but that should make for an interesting episode of television. The emotional conflict between letting someone down and trying to avoid letting someone else down would raise the stakes, allowing the jokes to hit harder.

There could also be some fun had with the fact that ALF isn’t quite their child, but they vow not to make the same mistakes with him as they did with Lynn. Again, this show isn’t the one to pull it off, but what a great punchline this episode could have in Willie and Kate scrimping and saving for ALF’s college fund instead.

Whatever. I shouldn’t complain yet, because up to this point, “Varsity Drag” isn’t half bad. It won’t quite remain that way, and the ending is an insultingly massive cop-out, but when even half of an episode of ALF is worth watching, that’s impressive.

ALF starts digging through the budget for the family, which is how he finds out he’s the cash-sink. Kate tells him that the $10,000 expenditure labelled “miscellaneous,” which he directly questions, is what it costs to support him. This leads a nice visual of ALF being taken aback, as well as the first ever good line given to Brian: “I would have guessed higher.”

Then ALF says, “So what you’re saying is…I’m the reason Lynn can’t go away to school.”

And like the pain in Lynn’s bedroom, “Varsity Drag” is smart enough to let this linger. Nobody offers a verbal response at all, which I like well enough. What I like even more is the silently sarcastic “oh well” gesture we get from Kate, immediately before she stands up and walks away:

There’s some good acting in this one. I’ll give it that.

Later on ALF summons Willie and Kate the most effective way he knows how: he politely asks where the fire extinguisher is. It’s a good gag, playing into the characterization and moving the plot along.

In fact, this whole first half of “Varsity Drag” just feels so effortless. Like a little bit of magic can seep through when the staff stops trying to force things. Before long we’ll even get to watch it fall apart when they do force something. It’s a pretty striking contrast.

He tells Kate that she will have to get a job, and tells Willie that he’ll need a second one. He even set up an interview for Willie, as a men’s room attendant.

Willie angrily asks, “Do I look like a men’s room attendant?”

To which ALF replies with the last great line in the episode: “No. You look like a Scrubbing Bubble.”

And, dudes, he totally does.

Like, that’s a hilarious comparison on its own. But then you realize it actually sort of fits, which is a whole other layer of comedy.

There’s a moment here in which Willie says that nobody’s getting another job, and they’ll just have to make sacrifices. ALF asks if that means they’ll throw him in a volcano, and the joke is that Willie waits too long before saying no.

But it doesn’t really work. Max Wright doesn’t lose himself in consideration the way Anne Schedeen has (such as the scene in “Can I Get a Witness?” when she and ALF lock eyes in what seems almost like a psychological game of chicken). Instead, he just pauses. He knows he’s supposed to wait before delivering his line, so he waits. And that’s all he does. He waits for a while, yes, but since that’s all he does it took me a bit to understand why it was even supposed to be a joke.

ALF suggests getting a job himself, to which Willie replies “Nigga plz.” Then the adults go to bed, secure in the knowledge that leaving ALF alone with the want-ads will lead to no wacky developments whatsoever.

OOPS

Later that night ALF wakes Willie and Kate up to show them the living room, which is full of newspapers. I feel as though ALF leading people into the living room to show off his latest dumbass attack is an unsung hallmark of this show. I know it happened in “Oh, Tannerbaum” with the ruined tannerbaum, and in “We Gotta Get Out of This Place” with the relocated furniture, but I’m sure I’m missing at least a half dozen more examples that I’ve successfully erased from memory.

Willie asks what they’re doing there, and Kate — sagely — says “Let me guess,” correctly positing that ALF has become a paperboy. I like that Kate has become aware of her own show’s wackadoo approach to plot development.

ALF…yeah. Somehow he’s a paperboy with ten paper routes already. And he has all these newspapers even though he can’t leave the house. So I guess somebody just walked into the living room and left this shit here without waking anyone up or seeing ALF. It’s a hell of a leap over several important logical points, but I’ll come to that in a moment.

It’s not a great scene by any means, but there are a few cute bits in here. One example is ALF telling Willie that the newspaper company gave him five hundred and one copies by mistake, followed by a conspiratorial little laugh. Another is Kate telling him that he can’t deliver the papers. He replies, “Sure I can! You haven’t seen my throwing arm,” followed immediately by Willie grabbing ALF’s wrist so he can’t demonstrate.

But that’s also where the episode goes off the rails, because next we see…

This. And you can feel the writers forcing something that is doomed not to work.

It’s the big setpiece of the episode, dominating the second half, and yet it’s really not that funny. It’s not even that funny an idea. Willie and Kate deliver papers while ALF sits in the back seat cracking jokes? It’s the kind of thing that might have worked as a vague pitch (“How about, I dunno, ALF gets a paper route?”), but by the time someone sits down to type it, it’s painfully apparent that they had no idea where to go from there.

Consequently, a massive chunk of the episode is consumed by watching Kate and Willie cruise around for no actual reason. I’ll say more about this shortly, but for now, I remember a while back that a commenter said that every time we see the Tanners driving around, it takes place at night.

With only one exception (“On the Road Again”), I think he’s been right. It stands out to me, and I’m not sure why they did this. Maybe just because they get to save on the money they would have used to light a daytime set. Whatever it is, it’s odd.

So, yeah, the writers take a natural — and overall quite good — narrative, and reduce it to an excuse to get these idiots in car delivering newspapers…even though they don’t have any good jokes to go along with it.

But, unlike last week, I don’t hate it.

I want to take a moment to spotlight this comment left by kim, who might be the only person to have commented on all of my ALF reviews to date. (The rest of you slackers need to catch up, stat.)

ugh. obviously you didn’t get this episode at all.okay, I’ll explain it for you. jake’s graduation party is mentioned because it is party ALF would like to go to, but he can’t because of the fear being seen by the public. ALF gets really bummed about it and finally had enough of hiding, so that we he decided to reveal himself to the world in a press release. the first dream sequence is suppose to be what willie is imaging would happen to ALF if he reveal himself to the public. the second dream sequence is what ALF imagines if he would reveal himself to the public, he thinks he will become famous and host is own talk show I guess? which really would of made better sense if the roles were revised, david letterman was the talk show host and ALF just be the guest host. the point of the documentary with the orangutang was to show ALF would only make things worse for himself if he decided to go public, the orangutang was last of it’s kind and died because it spend the rest of it’s life in captivity without any interaction to the outside world, willie thinks the same thing will happen to ALF once he gets captured by the alien task force. then ALF realizes the big mistake he just made and decide to call off the press release, i think Robin Leach refs to one of the reporters or talk show hosts is was going to meant i guess. ALF becomes depressed because he now realizes he is forever struck to a life of loneliness and isolation and the tanners throw him a surprise party with all his friends to show is not as lonely as he thinks he is. *phew*

And I’ll admit that I was playing up my confusion for the purposes of being funny. “We Are Family” was a shitty episode, but I understood its theme, and I saw it carry through the episode.

The reason I was being so snarky and hard on it was…well, read that comment. That comment is a summary, and it’s still absurdly long. Even poor kim has to take a breath after getting through it.

I don’t hold this comment up to laugh at it. Not at all. It’s a valid comment, but I do think it unintentionally illustrates the problem with that episode. While its main theme was clear, its method of exploring that theme was preposterous.

There’s no reason for a simple “ALF is lonely” concept to incorporate hallucinations of government custody, interviews with Sandy Duncan, and Ugandan orangutan documentaries. These are disparate pieces forced to serve the hazy idea of a plot, as opposed to natural outgrowths of what we’re watching.

So, yeah. I’m aware that ALF was sad, and I can make an argument for how all of that might — in some distant way — tie into that theme. But “Varsity Drag” shows us how it should actually be done.

As much of a letdown as the second half of this episode is (enough of one that I’m going on this rant instead of even talking about it), the theme is explored through natural, identifiable progression:

Lynn is accepted to college. Lynn is excited about it. The family can’t afford to send her, because ALF’s drained their finances. ALF feels bad, so he gets a job to make up the difference.

That’s every plot beat. Kim’s comment above contains every plot beat of “We Are Family,” but, by contrast, it’s far longer, and any given part of it needs an explanation of how it ties into what the fucking episode is about. If you need that many plot beats in a half-hour sitcom, you’re not telling a story; you’re just showing us a bunch of stuff.

“Varsity Drag” has no such issues. It has other issues, but as far as organic plot development goes, it’s perfect. Even the throwaway jokes tie, for the most part, into its theme. We don’t need to be reminded about what we’re watching, because the episode never forgets it.

That’s why I’m so hard on episodes like “We Are Family” and “Strangers in the Night.” This isn’t a great show, but it certainly doesn’t need to slide so deeply into incompetence. Whether it’s funny or not, it has every ability to tell a coherent story, and I don’t think that’s too much to ask from it, either.

The only delivery that matters at all is the final one, to Mrs. Ochmonek, who catches Kate dropping it off. She comes out and tells her with a tone of serious concern that she didn’t know the Tanners were so hard up for money. Kate says that they’re just trying to earn a little extra money to send Lynn to college, but Mrs. Ochmonek is still worried, and offers the Tanners a place to stay if things get worse.

In the next scene, she comes over with canned goods to help them out financially. It’s a big joke to the show, because Mrs. Ochmonek is such a stupid busybody!!!

And yet, once again, when’s the last time the Tanners have done anything nice for anyone? Willie’s a social worker, but the Ochmoneks seem to be the only ones who care about their fellow man. He wouldn’t save them from a burning building, but they’ll drop everything at any time of day to bring the Tanners food if they think they need it.

It’s even more nice of them when you remember that the Ochmoneks have never been portrayed as well-off. To give away a box of food is probably a grander gesture for them than it would be for most families.

And yet we’re supposed to side with the Tanners, who look through the shitty selection of cocktail onions and chickpeas, and snicker and guffaw and say THOSE FUCKIN TARDS.

The show has no idea what it’s doing. I’ve used the Flanders family as a counterexample before, and I’ll use them again now. Only in rare cases was the joke on the Flanders family. More often, the joke was that Homer hated them so much in spite of what great neighbors they were. If Ned was ever the butt of a joke (at least in the golden years) it was because he was too much of a pushover, or too devoted to his religion. Neither of those things, it’s important to note, are inherently bad things. That’s why, most of the time, he and his family were able to serve as model citizens…much to Homer’s undeserved chagrin. That’s funny.

ALF wants us to think of the Ochmoneks as the neighbors from hell, but they are inadvertently painting the Tanners with that brush. These are the people we’re supposed to identify with: these people who laugh and tease and put down those who step in to help them. We’re not meant to identify with Homer when he’s mean to Ned; we’re meant to laugh at him. Here, we are asked to identify with the people being so rude and dismissive.

And that’s massive shitness.

Not quite as shit as the end of the episode, in which everything is wrapped up with Lynn saying, “Fuck it, I don’t need to go to Amhert, I don’t know what came over me, I was totally riding the cotton dildo.” Then they all hug and fuck it.

In the short scene before the credits ALF makes a joke about eating the cat.

It’s a shame to see such a great opening half fall apart so catastrophically. And, yet, it does follow a kind of internal logic. The resolution is a bit pat, but we get a sense that Lynn’s flattered enough by what her family did (worked for like, two hours, yippee shit) that it’s put some things into perspective for her. It’s only a sense, as the episode doesn’t leave it any room to breathe. Much better to eat up all that time of Willie and Kate pretending to drive while ALF babbles nonsense at the back of their heads.

The plot, unlike last week, holds together. It’s just a shame that the writing, by contrast, falls apart. It’d odd to look at the first half of this episode, and then the second, and believe that they came from the same show, but, again, I’ll take half a good episode than the wall to wall garbage we usually get.

And that, my friends, brings us to the end of season two. Join me soon for the recap…before we trudge on into murky depths of season three.

I can’t thank you enough for sticking with me through the first half of this project. May the second half be even better. I love you all.

MELMAC FACTS: On Melmac, $10k could support a family of four for one year. Willie went to Amherst, and judging by some lines in “Tequila” we can conclude that Kate went there as well.

You might remember in my review for “Tequila” that I said the next episode was one I’ve been looking forward to for a long time, but that was bullshit because I’m an idiot. I have no clue what “We Are Family” is about. The one I was thinking of is “Varsity Blues,” which comes next. I’m kind of disappointed, because I wanted to end the season on some kind of ridiculous nonsense instead of one I’m predisposed to enjoy. WOE IS ME

My confusion actually carries through much of the first scene, because Willie is discussing the very issue I’m looking forward to being addressed in “Varsity Blues”: the fact that ALF muthafuckin bankrupts these idiots.

Granted, the dialogue doesn’t get quite that far, but when an episode opens with Willie chiding ALF for racking up a $300 phone bill…well, that seems like a pretty good ingress to dealing with the larger financial problem. It’s not, though. It’s the opening to an irrelevant episode about Jake. Remember him? He’s like Brian, only he has a personality, character traits, and the writers only have to pay him when he has something to do.

Whatever. We’ll deal with that later. Right now we’re covering the phone bill, which is so high because of all the phone sex ALF has been having with Lynn. Then there’s the matter of additional fees for all the photos of his junk he’s been FedEx-ing to Brian. Really this crap is just killing time until the Ochmoneks come over, which is fine, because I actually like them.

I can’t get over how much Mr. Ochmonek has grown on me as a character. Granted, it might be some form of desperation, like in those old cartoons with two characters starving to death in a lifeboat, and to each other they each look like big turkey legs. I’m dying for something to enjoy consistently, so I start salivating whenever I see Porkchop Ochmonek.

I don’t know. I think he’s funny. They come over to invite the Tanners to Jake’s graduation party, and they’re excited because he finished the eighth grade after only one year. “He’s so smart, it’s scary!” Mr. Ochmonek says, and it’s actually a good line.

Jack LaMotta doesn’t get much to do with Mr. Ochmonek, but he makes his lines count. We then get a nice moment when he asks Willie to répondez s’il vous plaît, which I fucking love because Mr. O — with his master’s degree in Art History — isn’t entirely the uncultured boob he seems to be. He’s got a little more going on beneath the surface, even if he doesn’t realize that himself, and I think that’s great. The fact that he didn’t just say “R.S.V.P.,” or “So are you comin’ or what?” doesn’t quite qualify as a joke. It’s funny, but it’s funny because it’s an unexpected reveal of character.

Starving in a lifeboat or not, I’ll take moments like that anytime.

Also, note that the Ochmoneks are inviting the Tanners to one of their family events. This season alone the Tanners hosted a Halloween party and a wedding without inviting the Ochmoneks, who live right next door and probably have to deal with the noise and all the extra cars. In the review for “Something’s Wrong With Me,” ALF analyst Mark Moore left a comment saying that it was understandable that the Ochmoneks wouldn’t be invited to the wedding, as they really had nothing to do with the couple. Which, unquestionably, is true. And yet, the Tanners have nothing to do with Jake. ALF seems to have a relationship with him, but, obviously, the Ochmoneks don’t know that, and ALF, just as obviously, isn’t invited.

The Ochmoneks are inviting the Tanners because that’s the polite thing to do. These people are happy to invite the Tanners, just for the sake of offering. The Tanners wouldn’t be caught dead wishing the Ochmoneks a merry Christmas, let alone inviting them to one of their social functions.

Remind me. Again. Who the bad neighbors are supposed to be.

After the credits Willie comes into the kitchen, and ALF scolds him, asking him if he ignored the sign on the door. It reads GENIUS AT WORK. Willie then strolls over to ALF and says, “I’m sorry. I didn’t make the connection.”

This is another one of my favorite things about the show: Max Wright being given a laugh line that the editors purposefully withhold laughter from.

It’s an odd kind of bleed from the on-set political conflict, and it’s so easily apparent because the show has a laugh track. When an audience response — and the length of that audience response, and the enthusiasm of that audience response — can be controlled with a dial, it means that whenever an actor delivers a line like this without getting a response, it’s a clear and deliberate “fuck you.”

Max Wright was vocal in his irritation that ALF got all of the best lines for himself, while all Willie got to do was walk back and forth shaking his head. So, here, he gets to crack a joke.

I love moments like these, because they reveal a lot about what working on ALF must have been like. Complain enough, and you’ll be given a laugh line to shut you up. Of course, in the edit they won’t paste any actual laughter after it, which will just make you look like even more of a lame idiot to the viewers at home.

It’s a way to get the actors to clam up on set without anyone at home having to believe there’s somebody else on the show as funny as ALF. I sure wonder why everybody hated working with Paul Fusco.

It’s even expanded upon as Willie tries to get ALF to laugh at his joke, and ALF just shrugs him off and says, “Yeah yeah.” You’re not the star, Willie. You’re lucky we even pay you. Now be quiet and let the people enjoy the puppet.

ALF explains that he’s writing a press release. He’s decided to reveal himself to the world so that he no longer has to be in hiding.

Willie, understandably, craps himself.

He’s upset because ALF seems to have forgotten that the government will scoop him up the moment he dangles his face-phallus in public. It’s hard to blame ALF, though, since the show itself also seems to forget this very often. At this point, I honestly think that the number of characters on this show who have seen ALF is larger than the number of characters who haven’t.

But Willie’s impassioned explanation of ALF’s possible fate at the hands of the Alien Task Force (or, as he calls them, “The Government,” because none of the writers can remember what they called the organization) leads to a clip from the forthcoming Project: ALF.

Man I am not looking forward to Project: ALF.

Anyway, it’s an odd fantasy sequence that goes on a lot longer than I would have expected. I guess the writers had some jokes about ALF being in government custody, but didn’t want to actually write an episode in which that was the case. Which, hey, fine. But I’d much prefer a full-length fantasy episode with ALF awakening from this nightmare at the end.

I know, that’s corny, but at least “title character is captured by show’s villain” would be a fantasy episode that had something to do with ALF‘s premise. So far the ones we’ve gotten have been about Kate running for president and a visit to Gilligan’s Island.

This seems like it should play a bit like a Family Guy cutaway. Get there, tell your joke, get out. Instead, we get a protracted sequence of ALF shocking himself by pushing buttons, making jokes about how he hates celery, and then the introduction of a guest character. Which, again, since this is an irrelevant fantasy inserted into the show because Jake’s graduation party is far from adequate material for a full-length plot, is fucking crazy.

Who cares about the fake scientist who doesn’t even exist in the show’s reality? I have hard enough time caring about most of the characters who do. Why am I spending time with this deformed guy?

Like, he actually is deformed. He’s some guy who’s been in a crapload of horror movies, but in this case, why is ALF fantasizing that he’s going to be captured by a guy who can’t grow hair or teeth? Why that specific detail? What’s even the point of this? Nothing horrific is happening…ALF is just fantasizing some shitty dialogue for him and this imaginary scientist to shoot back and forth.

What the hell is going on?

If I’d gone for a bathroom break and came back to find that the Jake’s Graduation episode had somehow become the ALF’s Vivisection episode, I’d have been a confused little boy.

Actually, I’m no less confused as a big boy. What the fuck is this episode? We’re nearing the halfway point, and I couldn’t tell you. ALF racked up a huge phone bill, so it’s time for Jake to graduate, therefore ALF considers writing a press release about himself, and he daydreams about being held captive in a government testing facility.

This…I don’t know, guys. I feel like I’m having a stroke. Nothing here has any connection to anything else.

At least we’re back in the Tanner kitchen. That will give me a chance to reorient myself. ALF’s at his typewriter, Willie’s in his fishing vest, and…

wat

Now ALF is hosting a talk show.

What the actual what fucking what.

What is this episode? He’s on the old David Letterman set, which makes sense, as at this point in time Letterman was still hosting Late Night on NBC. In case you forgot, that’s ALF‘s network. The fact that Letterman himself doesn’t appear goes a long way toward demonstrating his excellent taste in entertainment.

ALF makes some dumbass jokes about eating cats because he’s ALF and ALF eats cats. Then we…

no.

NOOO

Willie is dressed like Paul Shaffer, hamming it up while some actual musician in the background wishes he didn’t need the extra income so badly.

The weird thing is that Max Wright does an actual impression of Shaffer, which itself gave me gallstones, yes, but the reason it’s weird is that he thanks ALF for hiring him after firing Shaffer.

So…what?

What?

WHAT

If Willie isn’t ALF’s fantasy version of Shaffer — and in fact just replaced a version of Shaffer that already existed in this fantasy — shouldn’t Willie still be Willie?

Why is he talking and dressing and acting like Shaffer?

Why is this on television?

Why is any of this happening?

Happy graduation, Jake! I hope you enjoy this series of disconnected bullshit!

Then ALF introduces Sandy Duncan, who comes out and my fucking Christ this is awful.

So, recap: ALF made too many calls. Jake is graduating from eighth grade. ALF is considering writing a press release. ALF is flayed alive by the government. ALF is hosting Late Night. Got that?

Now Sandy Duncan turns up to promote Valerie’s Family.

Like…actually promote it. They talk about the actual show, including the recent plot development of a major character dying, and it seemed pretty fucking incongruous until I looked it up and saw that, at the time, Valerie’s Family was airing right after ALF.

I remember a lot of old shows used to have an actor, in character, say something like, “And now stay tuned for…!” over the end credits, which was a pretty corny way of implying endorsement, but I can understand it.

I don’t often remember the star of a show popping up in the previous one to plead with someone, anyone, to stick around and watch it.

Valerie’s Family now is barely remembered. When it is, it’s mainly due to the fact that it featured a young Jason Bateman. During its fairly short lifespan it actually went through three title changes. Valerie, Valerie’s Family, and The Hogan Family. I barely remember the show existing, so I guess cramming one of its stars into the second throwaway fantasy sequence of an instantly forgettable episode of ALF somehow failed to launch it into the public consciousness.

Then we get a commercial, and I have to admit, it’s perfectly placed. I certainly can’t guess what happens next.

When we come back, ALF is dressed as who cares. He called a press conference, and the family just sits around bitching about how boned they are.

Instead of, you know, calling the reporters or whatever and saying it was a hoax and they’re very sorry.

Or stabbing ALF to death with a corkscrew.

Willie then comes in with a documentary about a Ugandan orangutan, and puts it in the VCR. I was seriously afraid we’d get another fantasy sequence with the Tanners playing the roles of zoo animals. See what you’ve done to me, “We Are Family”?

Also…WHY THE FUCK IS THIS CALLED “WE ARE FAMILY.” WHY IS THIS NOT CALLED “A MISHMASH OF MEANDERING HORSE SHIT.”

Oh good. We actually get to watch it.

This episode is such a stitched together mess, I can’t even believe it. Way back in the second episode, “Strangers in the Night,” I had similar concerns. But, well…it was the second episode. At this point? There’s no excuse.

The narrator of the documentary we’re watching for no fucking reason explains that the orangutan was captured and felt so sad that it died of loneliness.

We actually just watch and hear a clip from a nature documentary. Why is this happening?

When it’s over, the Tanners repeat for us everything we’ve just heard, but at greater length to make sure we understand that ALF is totally like that orangutan, you guys.

What the shit happened to Jake’s graduation party? WHAT THE SHIT HAPPENED TO ANYTHING

Also the Tanners keep pronouncing “orangutan” as “a-rang-a-tang” and I’m starting to understand why Elvis shot his television.

Some reporter shows up, Kate tells him to piss off, and he leaves. Wow. They’re really committed to making sure nothing at all happens in this episode, aren’t they?

ALF then pops up through the plot window and says, sadly, “If Robin Leach calls back, just say ‘ALF who.'” Then the sad music plays and there’s no laughter, so I guess the audience is being asked to weep at a reference to Robin Leach. I can safely say ALF is the only show in history to attempt that.

Willie goes into his bathroom to take a shit, but his shy colon refuses to cooperate while ALF’s eating in the tub. ALF asks Willie how the graduation party was and Willie says fine.

…wait.

That’s it? It’s over? I thought that was the whole point of this episode. It happened off camera? Why did we even have to hear about it? What function did it play at all? Sure, it told us that Jake is graduating from eighth grade. But, if that’s the case, doesn’t that mean Brian and Lynn are graduating from their respective grades, too?

Why are the Ochmoneks throwing a party for their nephew, but the Tanners don’t give enough of a shit to throw one for either of their own children? WHAT IS THE POINT OF THIS EPISODE.

The scene ends, but not before we get the great joke that ALF ate Willie’s soap and as a result filled the tub up with a stream of unstoppable feces.

Kate tells ALF to stop wallowing in his own soapy excrement because she wants to take a bath, and when he comes into the living room everyone yells surprise.

It’s…no.

No.

Please. Fucking. God.

No.

It’s a surprise party for ALF.

But…

Jodie is there. And Dr. Dykstra.

No.

Please don’t do this to them. Please. Please don’t put them in this episode. They don’t deserve this. Take me instead.

Kate Sr. and Jake are here too. Everyone’s trying to cheer ALF up by showing him that his world isn’t as limited as he thinks he is, which definitely feels like a resolution to an episode, but not one that saw ALF interviewing Sandy Duncan on Late Night.

This does, however, accomplish something that I like. It shows that ALF has a circle of friends. That’s something I didn’t realize, and which I don’t think the show realized, until this moment.

Usually he encounters these people one by one. Which, of course, is fine. But it contributes to a feeling of isolation that isn’t actually the case. These people can come over and keep him company any time.

It’s also telling that the Tanners didn’t invite the Mexican kid from “Border Song” or the forgotten little girl ALF promised never to forget from the Christmas special. Probably the two people who would most like to see ALF again, and who would actually benefit from having a friend themselves.

But, eh, fuck em. As long as ALF is happy, right?

You may notice something strange about these four guests. Kate Sr., Jake, Dr. Dykstra, and Jodie. One of these things, as they say, is not like the others.

Jodie is the only one who doesn’t know ALF is an alien. So what, exactly, does she think is going on here? As far as she knows, he’s just some short old guy. Isn’t she a little curious as to why they’re all there?

The others know that he’s the last of his species and can’t leave the house. Jodie doesn’t know any of that. Potentially, this could turn into a horrific situation in which a blind woman flees the house into oncoming traffic. But the Tanners didn’t bother to think about that. So fuck her, too.

Surprisingly, the show did think about it, and it leads to the best part of the episode. Jodie makes a joke about ALF’s ratty sweater, and everyone laughs. Then Dr. Dykstra does something very human: he makes awkward conversation with the person he’s stuck sitting next to at the party. Without anything else to say to Kate, he says, “She thinks ALF’s fur is a sweater.”

The look of panic in Kate’s eyes is perfect, and also very human. She pulls him aside and explains that Jodie doesn’t know ALF’s an alien, which you’d think would be a pretty fucking great reason not to invite her to this FEEL BETTER ALIEN party.

Sadly, it doesn’t go any further than this. Dr. Dykstra apologizes for having told Jodie earlier about the time ALF ate a tennis racket because he misunderstood the concept of catgut, and that’s that.

It’s a shame, because there are at least a few great episode ideas in here. The party of ALF’s friends could have fleshed out a nice 30 minutes itself, especially if we got to see some old familiar faces while we’re there. Jodie finding out ALF is an alien should also be a fun — and, let’s face it, inevitable — storyline. Or maybe even when that reporter showed up and Kate shooed him away, he caught a glimpse of ALF through the window, snapped a picture, and now there’s a media circus the Tanners have to deal with.

Any of that is better than watching a nature documentary with fucking Willie.

The Ochmoneks come over looking for Jake, dressed up because they always go dancing on Saturday nights. That’s sweet. When, exactly, is the last time Willie did anything nice for Kate? Or, to be honest, vice versa?

This is why I am willing to believe the Ochmoneks are in love. They have a history. They make each other laugh. They spend time together. Willie and Kate are barely roommates.

ALF hides in the kitchen when the neighbors come over, as usual. Jodie asks why, which is a great question, so Willie knocks her unconscious with a wrench.

The Ochmoneks are hurt because the Tanners had a party without inviting them, but that’s okay, because the episode’s almost over and it’s not like their feelings matter anyway. It turns into a joke about how this is a Tupperware party and the Ochmoneks are cheap. It’s as fitting an ending as anything could possible be for this barely coherent mess of an episode.

I know what you’re thinking. “Did this episode really end before we got to listen to Willie and Kate Sr. perform a duet?”

Don’t worry, brother. The pre-credits tag has you covered. Willie tickles the ivories while Kate Sr. bleats out an abbreviated cover of “The Band Played On.” It’s a well-deserved slap in the nuts for anyone who wasn’t smart enough to change the channel well before we got to this point.

I still have no idea what the fuck I just watched. If any of you can tell me, I’ll be forever in your debt.

One more episode. Then we move on to season three. Which, by all accounts, is worse than season two.

Personally, I don’t know how they could top this.

MELMAC FACTS: On Melmac ALF was considered above-average, though they did grade on a curve. Whatever any of that is supposed to mean. When Melmacians are depressed they eat more (with their “spare stomachs” opening up to accommodate the extra food), and gravitate toward cheap imitation porcelain.

I’d really hoped to make it through the end of season two before “needing” another break, so I’m more than a little bummed that last week was interrupted by an unexpected outage. As I mentioned in my previous post, the site went down because I had more traffic in October than my service plan allowed for. That’s not to say it’s never been higher (my “Ozymandias” review of Breaking Bad is probably destined to be my all-time most visited post), but taking a look at Google Analytics, I see that the average number of visits per day has about tripled from this time last year. Over the course of a month, that adds up, and I ended up exceeding my bandwidth as a result.

Mysterious commenter / antagonist E[X] suggested that if I post my screenshots in .jpg format, they’d eat up less bandwidth. And he’s right. (That adds up, too, unquestionably.) But…I don’t know. .jpgs always look lousy to me. I’ll post the first screenshot here again in .jpg format.

Do you notice a difference? Maybe it’s all in my mind, and it probably doesn’t matter anyway, but the fact is that there isn’t a comprehensive screenshot collection of ALF on the internet. I’m the last person who would complain about such a deficiency, but if I have the chance to provide one to actual fans out there while I’m already in the habit of reviewing the thing…I don’t know. I think that’s kind of cool, and they can be put to good use by others. The official ALF Facebook account has even burgled my screenshots lately, which is oddly flattering.

Do I love ALF so much that I feel compelled to present screenshots in their highest quality? No. Do I really think my reviews would be less popular or less well-received if I posted .jpgs instead of .pngs? No. But if I can make some passing fan happy, or quietly provide the ALF wiki with a usable photograph of Wizard Beaver, then I feel like I might as well.

These final episodes of season two should be interesting. Last week we had a surprisingly good episode: “I’m Your Puppet,” which was a fascinating look at the frustrations of working on this show filtered through the rigid format of the sitcom itself. And next week we have “Varsity Blues,” which is an episode I’ve been looking forward to ever since the start of season one. I haven’t seen it yet (unless I saw it as a kid and forgot, which is possible), and I won’t spoil it for anyone out there who doesn’t know what it’s about, but let’s just say that the plot description suggests it will deal with probably the longest-standing issue I’ve had with this show. Successful or not, that’s something I am very excited to see.

This episode was mentioned in a comment by FelixSH as being good. Or…better than “Movin’ Out,” anyway. He also singled out “I’m Your Puppet,” and that one was awesome, so potentially the end of season two might look a lot like its long-missed beginning: better than it has any right to be.

“Tequila” starts out with a scene that’s good without being particularly funny. Kate is preparing for a visit from her old college roommates, and because she wants to make a good impression, everyone has a chore to do. ALF and Lynn are polishing the silver, and this might be the first time that we’ve seen ALF and Lynn assigned the same task. The fact that they’re both bored by it makes it easy for the show to pass it off as an exercise in quiet bonding, and I love that.

ALF makes all the normal jokes you’d expect, and they’re neither more nor less funny than usual, but what I love is watching Lynn’s face. When Andrea Elson actually smiles (as opposed to acting like her character is smiling), it’s adorable. And whether she’s laughing out of turn or not, it suits the context: Lynn doesn’t want to do this, and will take any release she can get. The same tired jokes coming out of the same tired alien represent a small escape, and if you watch her face through this scene, you’ll see that she laughs at every single one of them. It’s sweet, and 100% believable.

Then Willie and Brian come home with groceries, and Willie screams at his wife to drop whatever she’s doing and come open the door for him.

God I hope Kate’s old roommates give her shit for dumping Joe Namath for this guy.

Anyway, ALF wrote shit on the wall, and I’m a bit disappointed by Kate’s over-the-top reaction.

Yeah, don’t get me wrong, this sucks. In theory. But it’s not like ALF wrote anything particularly objectionable…just something stupid. Unless there’s a dirty joke in WELCOME DORM QUEENS that I’m not getting. If he wrote HELLO YOU SHITTY HAGS I’d understand…and it’s not much of a reach to think that he would write something like that.

Kate’s gasp of horror when she notices this rings false. Anne Schedeen does her best with it, but the reveal of the writing isn’t enough to justify it, so it falls flat. Her immediate decision to cancel the dinner is even more out of scale to the problem.

Instantly a wealth of ideas present themselves as alternative solutions, especially since the groceries just arrived and she hasn’t even started preparing dinner. If there’s time to do that, there’s plenty of time to…

…paint over it. It’s high enough on the wall that nobody will accidentally touch it, so it doesn’t matter if it’s still wet.

…hang a sheet over it. Explain that there’s a crack or some water damage there that’s being fixed tomorrow.

…come up with a cover story about Brian doing this, thinking it was a nice gesture. It’s not like the kid has any other role on the show; might as well make him the designated scapegoat for ALF’s shenanigans.

And those are just the first things that come to mind. I’m sure you guys could come up with a dozen more. But because there’s some crayon on the wall and she married a worthless piece of shit who gives up after five seconds of caressing it with a damp sponge, Kate calls her pals and arranges to meet them at a restaurant on their old campus.

They do, and it’s what Alan Partridge would sagely describe as a load of women talking blabbering crap. The conversation is stilted and hollow. They don’t really feel like old friends, to me. They feel like four actresses at a table exchanging background information about the characters they barely get to play.

It just about builds to what could have been a great storyline, though: after her three friends discuss all the rad shit they’ve been up to, they ask Kate what she’s been doing. “Nothing,” she replies, and the delivery is perfect. Schedeen sells the sadness of it without making it feel like Kate’s aware of the sadness. It’s the kind of thing somebody says without thinking that turns out to be more truthful than anything they say when they are.

But that’s about it. It’s a shame, because way back in “Jump” we learned that Kate used to do a hell of a lot. You know. Before she married the sentient pepperoni log we call Willie.

The suggestion that her friends are still living exciting, fulfilling, successful lives might suggest that it’s Kate who took a wrong turn…or, at least, offer enough of a suggestion to that effect that she can explore it throughout the episode before realizing she’s happy where she is, and that that’s what matters.

Nothing groundbreaking, but something recognizable. And it’s a shame that her “nothing” response just sort of gets swept away. I want to see that episode. Schedeen could sell it. I wish they’d let her.

Two of her friends leave — I don’t know who they are, so let’s just call them Pancho and Miffy — and she’s alone at the table with the third, Maura.

It’s an odd scene, and I know Schedeen is a stronger actress than this episode is letting on, so she may have just gotten some very poor — even by ALF standards — direction.

See, as soon as the other two depart, Kate starts telling Maura how proud they all are of her, and of what she’s accomplished, and it sounds so desperately supportive that the same take of this line could play over a scene of talking Maura down from a tall building.

We find out in a moment Maura is depressed, but Kate doesn’t know that, and indeed is shocked to find out. So why is she already talking to her like a suicide prevention operator?

Maura begins to cry, and Kate believably doesn’t know how to handle it. It’s probably been a long time since she’s had to deal with anything like somebody’s real emotions. Certainly before she moved onto a soundstage webbed by deadly puppet trenches.

That much, I buy. What I don’t buy is Maura asking if she can stay at Kate’s tonight, and Kate replying, “Uh…no.”

Sorry. The next scene lets us know that what she’s worried about is Maura finding ALF, but the delivery just makes it sound like Kate’s a bitch. And the thing is…she’s not.

She’s chilly. She’s stubborn. She lacks a sense of humor. But all of this, we’ve seen by now, is productive. She runs a tight ship, and her intentions are good. She’s not selfish, really. Yes, she wants things her way, but she wants them her way because she’s convinced that’s the best way for her family. And considering the pack of idiots she lives with, it’s hard to fault her for arriving at that conclusion.

So, no. Kate would not turn away a crying friend with a callous, “Uh…no.”

She’d make an excuse, maybe, but “Uh…no” is reserved for when ALF wants to dance naked on the roof, or when Willie wants to touch her boobs.

Not a friend in need. That’s not Kate.

She calls home to tell Willie that a friend will be spending the night. While he’s on the phone, ALF climbs a ladder with a bucket of paint so that the ladder can fall over and the paint can ruin the couch.

It’s fucking stupid.

The only funny part is watching ALF fall, which is impossible to catch in a good screenshot, but it looks like they just stuffed the old midget suit with leaves and dropped it from the rafters. Brilliant.

In the next scene, Willie has disposed of the couch…apparently.

Seriously, where the hell is it? He set up the cot because ALF ruined the couch, yes, but WHERE IS THE COUCH? You can’t expect me to believe Max Wright fucking shouldered a sofa out of the house all on his own. And even if he did…why? Wouldn’t it be easier to just drape a sheet over it?

Willie tells ALF that he’s not sleeping in the garage tonight; he has to sleep in Brian’s room. You know, because “you’re not sleeping in the garage tonight” was a such a massively successful plan when Uncle Albert came to stay.

How many fucking people need to see ALF / get murdered by ALF before these morons just leave well enough alone and let the fucking space creature stay in the shed? There’s no reason given at all, and I certainly can’t think of one. Can you?

Why is it smarter in any way to hide ALF one room away from their guest than it is to hide him in a completely separate building? Especially when he wants to be in the other building? Yes, I know he likes Brian, but he doesn’t like spending the night with him. The kid always wants to cuddle afterward and talk about their feelings.

Kate and Maura arrive back at the house, and Kate calls Lynn in to say hello. She doesn’t call her son because to hell with him.

Maura is a lawyer, which I’m only mentioning now because Lynn starts swooning over her performance in the People v. Fusco case. So, yeah, like “I’m Your Puppet,” we get a little dose of meta comedy. Unlike “I’m Your Puppet,” though, it goes nowhere, and just seems bizarre.

Why is a teenage girl with no interest in law going ga-ga over some case we don’t hear anything about? Of course, People v. Fusco does eerily presage the class action suit I’m putting together on behalf of everybody who sat through this season’s Christmas special.

Massive shocker: the thing that was absolutely guaranteed to happen the moment Willie told ALF he had to sleep in the house happens.

Seriously, I’m all for plot contrivance. I am. I know we have about 20 minutes to tell a story front to back, and if logistical corners need to get cut, so be it. But in this case, it’s not a corner being cut at all. It’s Willie saying, “ALF, we need you to stay out of the way of our guest, so instead of sleeping where she will never in a thousand years find you, you’ll be sleeping a few yards away.” And it makes no sense whatsoever.

It was the same thing in the damned Uncle Albert episode. You can contrive for ALF to be in an easily-discoverable place, but we need reasons for ALF to be in an easily-discoverable place. You can’t just shit him there; you need to do at least a little bit of legwork.

Maybe the garage has caved in from some of ALF’s antics. Maybe he broke his leg falling off the ladder and needs to be in the house so Brian can take care of him. Maybe he’s in the shed, but Maura comes out because she hears him rocking out to “Billie Jean.” There are any number of ways to address this in a way that at least makes some superficial sense.

Instead, the Tanners keep addressing the problem of hiding ALF by making sure he’s out in the open.

No sense is being made. Period.

So far, the contrivance has been no worse than the one in “We’re So Sorry, Uncle Albert.” But the result is worse. At least Uncle Albert did a rational thing when he discovered ALF: he dropped dead on the fucking spot.

Here, Maura assumes ALF is someone named Sammy and invites him to have a drink.

The next morning they’re still chatting. Okay, so, Maura’s drunk. Fine. She sure drank a lot of tequila judging from that screenshot, but an hours-long conversation with a space alien is not allowed.

Sorry. It’s not.

At some point she’d have to realize this wasn’t who she thought it was. Maybe if she just saw ALF in passing. Or if they only spoke for a few minutes. I’d still be a little skeptical at her lack of panic, but rapping with a moonman until the sun comes up doesn’t raise even the smallest flag for this woman?

Drunk or not, I call bullshit.

I can’t speak for anyone else, but any time I’ve been drunk, any warped perception has been in terms of interpretation. You know? Somebody tries giving you a hard time, but you’re so happy you hug him and don’t realize you’re being insulted. Or somebody says something perfectly benign and you suspect you’re the butt of a joke you’re not alert enough to understand and get upset.

In other words, drunkenness causes you to misunderstand things, certainly. (Or at least makes it faaaar easier to do so.) But it doesn’t make you see things that aren’t there. I might hear something a friend says and interpret it incorrectly, but I don’t look at my friend and see Mr. Peanut. I might stumble around, having trouble remembering my address, but while searching for my house I won’t look at a tree and see a lung.

So, no. I’m sorry. You cannot have a protracted conversation with an alien from an undiscovered civilization without batting an eye. God, I have enough trouble talking to regular human beings when I’m sober. I can’t begin to imagine how a drunken conversation with an extra-terrestrial would go.

Later on Willie and Kate hear ALF stumbling drunkenly around the house. At first I was puzzled by their lack of reaction, but then I realized that by this point the Alien Task Force are the only people in LA that haven’t seen ALF, and this is nothing new for anyone.

Maura tells ALF — who she still thinks is Sammy — that he shows up whenever she drinks, arriving around the third margarita and leaving sometime during her blackout. The fake audience of long-dead nobodies doesn’t laugh, so I guess this is supposed to be a sad and tender moment.

It doesn’t work for two reasons, though.

Firstly, we don’t know who this person is. At all. She’s a lawyer, she was Kate’s roommate, and she drinks. Granted, that’s more character development than almost anyone else on this show, but it’s still not enough to make us care about her. See why that “nothing” comment in the bar was so much more enticing? We know Kate. That means that when she is the one working through something, stakes are involved. We’re interested to see how it turns out. Instead, it’s somebody we just met, and will never see again. It doesn’t actually matter.

Secondly, this is not how drinking works. Honestly, it feels a little like the alcoholism stuff was written by a kid who only knew booze from after-school specials.

Alcohol is not a hallucinogen. It has the potential to be a terrible, terrible thing when misused or overused, but that doesn’t mean it makes imaginary people appear and chew the fat with you until you pass out.

I’m curious as to how much drunk acting on television is true to life. It’s hard for me to come up with many examples; typically it’s overplayed for broad laughs (Barney on The Simpsons is a good example, or Jack on Father Ted), or it seems to spring directly from the tee-totaling minds of The American Temperance Society. It’s very rare that any show, even the great ones, manage to do drunkenness right. (The “Thanks for the Memory” episode of Red Dwarf comes to mind…and not much else does.)

I’m going to open up to you folks.

I grew up with an alcoholic father. It was not pleasant. I have terrible memories that I wish I could shed, but I can’t. I’m stuck with them. Alcoholism is an absolutely awful thing to endure. The memories of being around it dig deeply into you, and not one of them will be pleasant.

So I’m not opposed to a didactic “don’t drink” episode. I don’t need one, but if it’s a message a TV show wishes to pass along, well…more power to them.

But instead of building a storyline or a plot point around what can actually happen when somebody’s drunk, these shitty shows have a strange habit of inventing something stupid, and treating that like it’s the reason we should exercise moderation.

In this case, it’s little goblins who visit Maura. Which, with all due respect, what the fuck. I remember an episode of Family Matters in which Urkel drank some spiked punch and fell off the roof, clinging to a clothesline, after having invented a dance named after himself that everyone else at the party spontaneously did along with him. And at some point in school we had to watch a video in which some kid accepted a sip of beer from an older friend, and then he could never shoot hoops again because a fleeting taste of Coors Light is enough to make you dizzy for life.

I’m not standing on the outskirts making fun of ALF for wanting to do an alcoholism episode. I don’t think it’s necessarily lame or quaint or idiotic. But since alcoholism is something that has affected my life — directly, deeply, and irreparably — I’m concerned by how many shows and specials want to address the problem without actually addressing the problem.

Have Maura try to drive home and crash into the mailbox or something. It can be small-scale. She doesn’t have to hit a kid. But have her do something that reveals an actual danger of drinking too much.

Have her say something stupid to Kate, insulting the woman who gave her a place to stay for the night when she needed a friend. The next morning she can reflect back on what she’s said and be horrified.

Have her get drunk and trip on something, falling down and giving herself a black eye. Maybe ALF has to carry her back to bed, so they can still meet if that’s so fuckin’ important.

These shows try to horrify people without even touching upon how these things can turn horrific. Their cautionary tales exist in a sort of fantasy land where even the worst possible outcome isn’t all that bad. Drink too much and some invisible creatures will keep you company? Sounds fun, actually. And god knows I’d drink however much liquor was necessary for a party full of strangers to gather ’round and spontaneously Do The Reed.

It’s bizarre. It’s like a show trying to make a point about gun control, but it uses for its example a scene in which the main character drops a pistol on his toe and it really hurts.

If you want to say something about the issue, say something about the issue.

Don’t invent a harmless version and act like you’re afraid of that. That’s not helpful, and it’s disrespectful. Trying to warn somebody of the reality of a topic like this absolutely requires an acknowledgment of that reality, and if you need to “invent” a different outcome, it needs to be as bad as or worse than what we see in real life. This isn’t advice…this is a rule.

ALF comes into the room and they all talk for fucking ever about how much he needs to barf.

Willie remembers that in college, they used to call Maura “Boilermaker,” because she drank a shitload of boilermakers. So…Willie and Kate went to college together? That’s kind of interesting. I guess. Has this come up before? Of course it hasn’t. Who am I kidding.

ALF goes into the bathroom and we hear him barf for fucking ever.

We cut to Lynn and Maura having breakfast. It’s just basic, time-killing bullshit until it’s time for Lynn to go to school, at which point she tells Maura how proud she is and how she wants to be like her when she grows up and all the same kind of shit her mother was saying last night at the cafe. Why are the Tanners in suicide prevention mode lately?

Yes, Maura’s a fuckin’ wreck, but neither of the characters finds this out until after they deliver their “you have so much to live for” speech. It’s really odd.

Maura starts crying again and Willie guides Lynn out of the room in the first human gesture I’ve seen in the entire episode. It’s something I can see an actual adult doing with their actual child, with the intention of explaining later. Willie, being a shit father, is probably not going to explain later because he’ll be busy staring vacantly at the wall, but this part of the process, at least, is familiar.

Kate confronts Maura about her drinking problem, and it’s…not all bad. Kate gently asks her how much she drank, leading the conversation without being confrontational. Maura defends herself by saying she’s under a lot of stress and is fighting with her husband…which isn’t an excuse, but is a perfectly valid way of explaining a one-off night of stupidity.

Neither wants to push too hard, and both are clearly uncomfortable. It’s actually a decent enough scene, if we didn’t need to keep cutting to ALF doing nothing in the living room because Paul Fusco is constantly paranoid that people will forget who the show is named after.

In fact, y’know what? This conversation is way too close to being effectively relateable, so let’s just send the alien waltzing in without any reason.

ALF announces to Maura that only she can see him; he’s invisible to Kate and everyone else. Maura, in spite of the fact that she’s stone-sober now, believes this. If it was absurd for her to have this conversation last night after a bottle of tequila, it’s upgraded to fucking ridiculous that she could have it again, now, sober, in front of another person who just sits there quietly waiting for this to resolve itself.

ALF, through his talent of spewing nonsensical bullshit that fictional characters flick themselves off to, saves the day. He appeals to Maura’s sadness and desperation, and gets her to admit she has a problem.

Which…y’know, Kate was kinda doing on her own. One friend to another.

These are two people who have known each other for decades. They have a history together. They trust each other and they care about each other. When Kate allows herself to understand that Maura has a problem, she is finally ready to help Maura with that problem.

All of this comes dangerously close to being a logical resolution to a serious subject, so of course it gets interrupted by ALF, the magical booze gnome, strolling in from the living room and tying everything up with a neat little bow.

It would be fine if this was the joke. Perhaps Kate was doing just fine, but ALF comes in with good intentions and fucks it all up. This late in the episode that wouldn’t make much sense, I know, but what happens doesn’t make any more sense anyway.

Why does ALF have to intrude on this scene? Were they trying to make a point about recognizing the problems you have, or were they trying to make a point about how awesome ALF is?

I guess it’s the latter, because the short scene before the credits has a letter arriving from Maura, who assures the Tanners that even though she will never be seen again, she’s doing great and will be forever.

Kate thanks ALF and tells him that they owe him “a big one.” You know. Because he explicitly disobeyed their orders by skulking around the house the night they had a guest sleeping in the living room, and then rudely interrupted a very serious conversation Kate was having with a fragile and desperate woman.

You know, this episode could have been pretty good if it weren’t for this show’s frustrating tendency to cram ALF into as many scenes as possible. And that’s the problem with this show as a whole. ALF, as a character, suffocates everything else. The good stuff happens around the margin — Kate’s background business, Lynn giggling, Willie dropping his crack pipe — because it has to. At the center of the show, whether or not he has anything to do with the story or has any reason to be there, it’s ALF. And that’s draining.

It’s like having your annoying uncle show up at every party you attend. Sure, any one of those nights could be fun, but after a while…won’t you just stop going?

So, yeah. Alcoholism is bad, but you know what’s the opposite of bad?

ALF. He’s just great. His jokes are wonderful, and he solves so many problems that two human beings speaking like adults could never hope to solve.

What’s all this shit about admitting you have a problem and letting the ones you love help you through it? The real solution is the saintly alien who pretends to be an imaginary drinking buddy and sorts your life out, and sometimes rapes the kids.

How many of these episodes are just going to be about how perfect ALF is? It’d be one thing if he was ever actually helping anyone, but instead he just sort of causes problems and sometimes offers up half-assed solutions that only work because the episode has to end sometime.

See, when I was growing up, I always thought that my father needed help. That he needed to open up to somebody — anybody — about whatever it was that made him drink so much. That he needed to look at himself in the mirror and say, “I have to slow down.” That he needed to reflect upon what he was doing to himself, to his friends, to his job, and to his family.

I see now that what he really needed was a wisecracking alien to tell shitty jokes, rip a fart, and tap-dance out of the room.

Fuck you, ALF.