Tag: sitcom

In appreciation: 50 years of Barney Miller

By Gary Bennett

This article appears in the April 3, 2025, issue of Frederick News-Post’s “72 Hours” entertainment insert.

Before there was Barney the dinosaur, there was Barney Miller. (Of course, before that came the undisputed Barney champion of all time, Barney Fife.)

Being the second or third best of anything is not too bad, but the case can be made that “Barney Miller”, a smartly written police comedy from the 1970s and ’80s, was one of the best TV shows ever.

TV Guide sure thinks so. In 2013, it ranked “Barney Miller” No. 46 on its list of the top 60 TV shows of all time. That may not sound like much, but consider that by 2013, over 10,000 TV shows had aired on broadcast or cable TV since the 1940s.

“Barney Miller” premiered on ABC on Tuesday evening, Jan. 23, 1975. It stayed there for eight years, often preceded by another big ABC hit, “Happy Days.” The titular character of the show, Captain “Barney Miller,” was played superbly by handsome, 40-something, ‘70s ‘stache-sporting Broadway actor Hal Linden. He professionally and calmly led a motley bunch of police detectives in the “old one-two” — the 12th Police Precinct in New York City.

The show was created by Danny Arnold and Theodore J. Flicker. Noam Pitlik directed most episodes. “Barney Miller” was never canceled. The producers voluntarily ended production on May 20, 1982, fearing they may begin to repeat story lines. It was never what you might call a smash hit. It was more like comfortable sweatpants you looked forward to slipping on once each week.

Hal Linden

The entire series is available for purchase on DVD, and you can even catch two episodes every week night at 9 p.m. on Antenna TV.

“Barney Miller” takes place almost entirely within the confines of the detectives’ squad room and Captain Barney Miller’s adjoining office. Most of the police action happens off-screen. This was the same strategy employed by contemporary sitcom “All in the Family” that took place almost completely within the Bunker’s Queens living room.

The familiar old precinct setting, complete with clutter and grime that seemed immovable over the years, allowed viewers to focus completely on the interplay of the characters — both the starring detectives and guest starring complainants and suspects — to superb effect.

A typical episode featured the detectives of the 12th Precinct bringing in several oddball complainants or suspects to the squad room. Usually, there were two or three separate subplots in each episode, with different officers dealing with different crimes and suspects. Many of the laughs came from the seen-it-all detectives and their handling of the weirdo interlopers.

Captain Miller (Linden) tries to remain sane while leading the 12th Precinct’s detectives. And what a crew they were. This was one of television’s first great ensemble casts.

The cast was led by crotchety, world-weary, Jewish-American Philip K. Fish (played by Abe Vigoda of “The Godfather” fame); naive, excitable but goodhearted Polish-American Stanley “Wojo” Wojciehowicz (played by Max Gail); ambitious, intellectual and slightly arrogant African-American Ron Harris (played by Ron Glass); wisecracking, gambling, poor coffee-making Japanese-American Nick Yemana (played by Jack Soo); and beleaguered Puerto Rican Chano Amanguale (played by Gregory Sierra).

Abe Vigoda

Miller also had to deal with his winking, glad-handing, past his prime, unapologetically old-school superior, Inspector Frank Luger (played wonderfully by character actor James Gregory), and diminutive and toadying uniformed officer Carl Levitt (played by Ron Carey), who constantly badgers Miller about being promoted to detective. Chano and Fish were replaced by intellectual Arthur Dietrich (played by deadpan comedian Steve Landesberg) in season three.

Some typical conflicts and long-running plot lines included Miller’s constant efforts to maintain peace, order and discipline; Harris’ preoccupation with outside interests, especially his novel that he wrote while on the job (“Blood on the Badge”); Fish’s age-related incontinence issues and reluctance to retire; Wojo’s impulsive behavior; Luger’s nostalgia for the old days; Levitt’s eventually successful quest to become a detective; the rivalry between the precinct’s intellectuals, Harris and Dietrich; and reliably bad coffee made by Yemana.

Like many sitcoms, “Barney Miller” took a while to get established and find its bearings. The first season focused much of the time on Barney’s private life at home with wife Liz (played by Barbara Barrie). The show runners soon realized the laughs came from within the precinct and wrote Liz out of the show. Rarely after that did we get a glimpse into any of the detectives’ private lives.

One of my favorite episodes, “Hash,” explored what would happen if the detectives unknowingly ate brownies laced with hashish while on the job. A great line from that episode was delivered when the still sober Captain Miller asked Harris where nearly retired and slow-moving Fish was. Harris slurred, “Last time I saw him, Barn, he was jumping between buildings running down a perp.”

Another favorite was the fifth-season finale “Jack Soo: A Retrospective,” which paid tribute to the late comic actor who was felled by cancer earlier that year. In this episode, the cast, led by Linden, appeared as themselves in the 12th Precinct office as they fondly shared stories and remembrances of their dear friend. At the end of the episode, the cast raised their coffee cups in loving memory of Soo.

Decades after it left the air, “Barney Miller” retains a devoted following including real-life police officers, who appreciate the show’s emphasis on dialogue, believably quirky characters, and its low-key portrayal of cops going about their sometimes-mundane jobs. “Barney Miller” is very possibly the most realistic cop show TV has ever seen.

Inexplicably, none of the actors ever won an Emmy Award (there were many nominations for Linden, Glass and Landesberg), but the show itself was honored many times with writing and directing awards. In its final season of 1982, “Barney Miller” finally won the Emmy for best comedy series after six previous nominations.

Linden (94) and Gail (82) are still alive and fondly remember their time on the show. Linden has told interviewers that he is still occasionally called “Captain” by respectful, working police officers. It’s difficult to imagine anyone else in that role now, but Linden let on recently that only a scheduling conflict prevented Daren McGavin from taking the role.

To this day, “Barney Miller” remains an influential TV show, noted for its ability to tackle tough, timely issues in a lighthearted way.

Maxwell Gail

Gary Bennett is a longtime Frederick resident who spends his time hiking, biking, volunteering and providing childcare for grandchildren. He is married and retired from his career as a nonprofit marketing executive.

The Fonzie Phenomenon

By Gary Bennett

This article appears in the October 31, 2024 edition of the Frederick News-Post’s “72 Hours” entertainment insert.

In 1974, America was going through very tough times. Watergate hearings droned on every day, the Vietnam War was ending haphazardly, and oil shortages had us all waiting in long gas lines and on edge.

So, it came as no surprise when a wave a nostalgia hit America. Many of us pined for gentler, easier times. The 1950s seemed to fit the bill nicely. The economy was good then and grandfatherly Dwight Eisenhower was in the White House. The hit movie “American Graffiti” (1973) and smash musical “Grease” (1971) both examined an innocent brand of everyday teen life to rave reviews.

Not to be outdone, in the fall of ’74, network television brought us a modest situation comedy called “Happy Days,” starring child actor Ron Howard of “Andy Griffith Show” fame. For the first time, Richie, Ralph, Potsy and Fonzie entered our living rooms. Little did we know, they would stay for more than a decade.

One can only imagine the chance the network took on building a show around a former child actor (Howard), a bunch of other unknown 20-something actors and a couple of mature, little known character actors, all portraying a modest 1950s, family-and-friends-are-everything lifestyle.

But, somehow, it worked.

Whatever the network executives saw in the show’s premise and the young actors was proved right. The show took an idealized look at life in the ’50s. The father owned a hardware store. Mom stayed at home and kept house. The teen characters fretted over girls and problems at school. There was a tough guy with a heart of gold. All of this was set in the comfortable backdrop of Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

The show was like “American Graffiti,” also starring Howard, by focusing on the teen lives of the main characters. Best friends Richie Cunningham (Howard), Potsy Webber (Anson Williams) and Ralph Malph (Don Most) hit all the right notes as teens trying to do their best but with a talent for getting in trouble.

The show didn’t do well at first. But soon it caught fire when it began featuring a minor, leather-clad character called Fonzie — or The Fonz. It’s difficult to overstate the influence of The Fonz on 1970s culture.

Henry Winkler as Arthur (Fonzie) Fonzarelli

Arthur Fonzarelli was played to “tough-guy-with-a-heart” perfection by a young, handsome, Yale-trained actor named Henry Winkler. The Fonz was a biker, a high school dropout and a bit older than the teens who idolized him, but he had a kind of magical coolness and street smarts that drew people to him. He would often enter the show with two or three young ladies on his arm.

Fonzie became one of the most memorable and merchandised characters of the 1970s. His image was on everything from lunch boxes and T-shirts to posters and soda cans. Henry Winkler became a major star and later parlayed his stardom into a lucrative movie career. His trademark leather jacket is now on display at the Smithsonian.

His catch phrases, which I can’t do justice to in print, were not scripted but created by Winkler. They included “sit on it” — an insult of epic proportions, “heyyyyyy!,” “whoa” and “correctamundo!” It wasn’t long before these phrases were on the lips of ‘70s teens and pre-teens everywhere.

It also didn’t hurt that Fonzie had superpowers. He could start any balky machine, including the local juke box, with a well-place rap of his fist, and he could instantly summon girls to his side with a snap of his fingers. He was the guy every man (and boy) wanted to be and every woman wanted to be with.

He had a kind of cool not seen on the small screen to this day. The only young character that came remotely close was James Dean in the movie “Rebel Without a Cause.” Everyone knew The Fonz was tough and could fight, but he never had to. His reputation always preceded him.

In 1999, TV Guide ranked Fonzie as No. 4 on its “50 Greatest TV Characters of All Time” list. Even so, the Emmy for best lead actor in a comedy eluded Winkler. He was nominated three times but never won. Decades later in 2015, he finally received his first Emmy for his performance on HBO’s “Barry.” Today, a bronze statue of The Fonz stands on the Milwaukee Riverwalk.

I believe one critical theme, eschewing convention, that creator Garry Marshall came up with that allowed the show to thrive was that The Fonz, who had absolutely no reason to do so, genuinely befriended the slightly nerdy teens. No one was quite sure why, but we all suspected it was because he could, and no one would say a word. Or, it may have been that he had a soft spot for those who are awkward and not as cool as him. It was probably a little of both.

Another theme that played well was the genuine love and respect the teens showed for the grownups. In turn, the grownups were supportive and gentle with the teens. The mutual love was easily apparent. The Cunningham parents were played pitch-perfectly by veteran actors Tom Bosley and Marion Ross. (Ross is still alive at 96.) The heart they brought to their much smaller parts was remarkable. Fonzi even had a soft spot for the motherly “Mrs. C.” She was the only one who could call him Arthur and get away with it.

“Happy Days” was one of the most successful shows of the 1970s. In its 11 seasons through 1984, it became the third longest-running sitcom in ABC’s history, with 255 episodes. In the 1976 and 1977 seasons, it was the No. 1 television show in America. The show spawned successful spinoffs “Laverne and Shirley” and “Mork and Mindy.” Both were culturally relevant in their own right.

The show played in syndication almost right away. One of my fondest memories from college in the mid- to late-‘70s, is playing cards between classes at the student union with pals of my own with “Happy Days” playing in the background.

At this year’s Emmy Awards, the now-famous duo of Howard and Winkler stole the show with their “Happy Days” reunion back at Arnold’s Malt Shop. Winkler even smacked the juke box to get it going like he did so many times in the ‘70s.

Gary Bennett is a longtime Frederick resident who spends his time hiking, biking, volunteering and providing childcare for grandchildren. He is married and retired from his career as a nonprofit marketing executive.