Welcome to Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Tuesdays, I will be reviewing Saved By The Bell: The New Class, which ran on NBC from 1993 to 2o00. The show is currently on Prime.
This week, Scott and Tommy D attempt to exploit Weasel’s happiness for their own monetary gain. Ah, that’s classic Bayside!
Episode 1.3 “A Kicking Weasel”
(Dir by Don Barnhart, originally aired on September 25th, 1993)
It’s been ten years since Bayside had a good football team!
That’s what Scott tell us at the start of this episode. Scott explains that the Bayside student body has no enthusiasm for football. No one cares because the team always loses and, as such, even Mr. Belding is more concerned with the school’s ping pong team.
To which I say, “What?”
Seriously, every Saved By The Bell fan knows that A.C. Slater led the Bayside Tigers to victory after victory. With the help of Ox and all the other players, Slater made Bayside into a football powerhouse.
This can only mean one of two things. Saved By The Bell: The New Class is either taking place ten years after Saved By The Bell (possible but I doubt it due to the fact that Screech is coming back next season) or that the writers just didn’t care about continuity. I’ll go with the latter.
Things are looking up for the football team, though. It turns out that Weasel can actually kick the ball! He goes from being the waterboy to the cornerstone of the team’s offense. But Weasel can only kick well when he’s angry. When he’s not angry, he’s too mellow. When he become a football star, he’s happy. He mellows out.
That’s bad news for Scott and Tommy D, who are looking to make a fortune by selling Weasel t-shirts! Tommy D agreed to embezzle the seed money from the print shop fund. (Hey, that’s a crime!) In return, Scott fixed the varsity cheerleader tryouts so that Lindsay beat out both Megan and Vicki. When Linsday finds out that the tryouts were fixed, she refuses to cheer. That makes Weasel mad and he ends up winning the game with 11 field goals. Lindsay, meanwhile. gets her revenge by telling Belding that Scott and Tommy D will be donating all of the t-shirt profits to the ping pong team.
This episode …. actually, I’m going to surprise myself by saying that it wasn’t that bad. Yes, the plot was way too busy for its own good and Scott’s constant scheming feels like what it was, a bad imitation of Zack Morris. But, in the role of Weasel, Isaac Lidsky actually gave a pretty good sympathetic performance. (Weasel was never as annoying as Screech, largely due to Lidsky.) Jonathan Angel delivered his dialogue with the right amount of dumb earnestness and it was nice to see the Bayside nerds end up winning for once. All in all, this one really wasn’t bad.
Private Lessons is that kind of early ’80s sex comedy that feels like a time capsule from when movies could get away with stuff that would never fly today. It’s got this awkward charm mixed with some seriously questionable choices, centering on a horny teenager named Philly who gets schooled in the ways of love by his family’s sultry French housekeeper. The film tries to play it all for laughs and titillation, but it lands somewhere between guilty pleasure and uncomfortable relic.
Philly, played by Eric Brown, is your classic 15-year-old rich kid left home alone for the summer in a sprawling Albuquerque mansion while his dad jets off on business. Dad hires Nicole, this alluring European housekeeper portrayed by Sylvia Kristel—yeah, the Emmanuelle star herself—to keep an eye on things, along with the sleazy chauffeur Lester, brought to life by Howard Hesseman in full sleazeball mode. From the jump, Philly’s got a massive crush on Nicole; he’s peeping through keyholes and fumbling over his words whenever she’s around. It’s all very American Pie before American Pie existed, but with a Euro-sex vibe courtesy of Kristel’s effortless sensuality. She catches him spying one night, strips down without a care, and invites him to touch—Philly bolts like his pants are on fire. You can’t help but chuckle at his panic; Brown’s wide-eyed innocence sells it without overplaying the hand.
The setup builds slowly, which is both a strength and a drag. Philly spills the beans to his buddy Sherman, played with manic energy by Patrick Piccininni, who turns every conversation into a roast session about Philly’s virginity. Their banter is some of the film’s highlights—raw, boyish ribbing that feels authentic to awkward teen friendships. Nicole keeps pushing the envelope: a steamy makeout in a dark movie theater, a goodnight kiss that nearly melts the screen, and finally, a fancy French dinner date where they seal the deal back home. Kristel owns these scenes; her Nicole isn’t just a seductress, she’s got this playful confidence that makes the slow seduction believable. The sex scene itself is tame by today’s standards—soft-focus, lots of sighs—but it’s handled with a wink, pretending to be shocking while delivering the era’s softcore goods.
But here’s where Private Lessons swerves into darker territory and kinda loses its footing. Midway through their romp, Nicole fakes a heart attack and “dies” right on top of Philly. Freaked out, he confesses to Lester, who smells opportunity. Turns out, the chauffeur’s been blackmailing Nicole over her immigration status and hatches a scheme to pin her “murder” on Philly, forcing the kid to cough up a chunk of his trust fund to cover it up. They bury a dummy in the desert, and Lester plays the concerned adult while pocketing the cash. It’s a twist that amps up the stakes, but it also shifts the tone from fluffy comedy to something creepier, leaning hard into moral panic territory. Hesseman chews the scenery as Lester, all smarmy grins and side-eye; he’s the perfect villain you love to hate, but the plot machinations feel forced, like the writers ran out of seduction gags and needed conflict.
Nicole, developing real feelings for Philly amid the con, has a change of heart and spills the truth. Together, they rope in Philly’s tennis coach—Ed Begley Jr. in a quick but fun bit—to impersonate a cop and scare Lester straight. The bad guy panics, gets nabbed trying to flee with the money, and everyone agrees to a truce: no one rats anyone out. Nicole’s “child molestation” (the film’s own loaded term for her role in seducing a minor) and immigration issues stay buried, Lester technically keeps his job, and Nicole splits before Dad returns. It’s a tidy wrap-up that dodges real consequences, which fits the film’s escapist fantasy but leaves a sour taste ethically. The romance fizzles without much payoff; you half-expect a heartfelt goodbye, but it’s more pragmatic than emotional.
Tonally, Private Lessons is all over the map. The first half thrives on its lighthearted horniness—Philly’s fumbling advances, Nicole’s teasing allure, and a very of-its-time soundtrack that pumps up the montages. It’s got that innocent raunchiness of films like Porky’s, where sex is the big mystery and everyone’s in on the joke. Brown holds his own as the lead; at 15, he’s convincingly flustered yet game, making Philly relatable rather than cartoonish. Kristel brings actual star power, turning what could be a one-note vixen into someone with hints of depth—her chemistry with Brown sparks genuine warmth amid the sleaze. Hesseman leans into Lester’s slimeball energy, turning every scene with him into a mix of funny and gross.
That said, the film’s not without flaws, and they’re glaring by modern eyes. The premise is straight-up predatory: a grown woman systematically grooming an underage boy, played for comedy without much self-awareness. It’s the male version of Lolita, but without any critique—instead of examining the situation, it just sort of grins and shrugs. The blackmail plot tries to add intrigue but mostly undermines the fun, turning Nicole from free spirit to reluctant crook. Pacing drags in spots; the relatively short runtime still feels stretched when the seduction stalls so the script can set up the con. And the ending? It papers over everything with a shrug, letting all parties walk free like it’s no big deal. The whole thing feels very much like a product of a moment when taboo could be turned into box-office bait without much pushback.
Visually, it’s a product of its time: glossy ’80s cinematography, plenty of skin but no hardcore edge, and that mansion setting screaming wealth fantasy. Director Alan Myerson keeps it breezy, never letting the comedy get too mean-spirited until Lester’s scheme really kicks in. The score and song choices nail the vibe—upbeat for the flirtations, a bit more tense for the con, always keeping things light even when the story goes to shadier places. It very much feels like something that would play late at night on cable and stick in your memory more as a vibe than as a fully coherent film.
Does it hold up? Kind of, if you’re in a nostalgic mood or digging for ’80s cheese. It’s honest about teen lust without being judgmental, and the performances carry the silly plot. But the power imbalance and the underage angle make it tough to fully endorse—watch with that lens, and it’s more cringe than chuckle. Still, for what it is—a raunchy romp with a surprisingly soft center—Private Lessons delivers just enough to warrant a spin on a bored night. Eric Brown and Sylvia Kristel do a lot of heavy lifting; without their chemistry, this would be forgettable smut instead of a strangely endearing, if deeply problematic, relic. If you’re into retro sex comedies like My Tutor or Zapped!, this one sits comfortably in that same dusty corner of the genre, flaws and all, as a snapshot of looser times that’s best taken with a big grain of salt.
Jeffrey Osborne’s On the Wings of Love always brings back the nostalgia of those junior high and high school dances—the dim lights, the cautious swaying, the mix of nerves and excitement that felt like the biggest deal in the world. It was one of those slow songs that seemed built for that moment: simple, heartfelt, and unafraid to wear its emotions openly. Hearing it again instantly puts you back in that space where a single dance could mean everything.
What stands out now, listening with older ears, is how raw and genuine it sounds. This was music from a time before autotune, when what you heard was pure singing talent—no filters, no layers of studio polish to smooth out the edges. Osborne’s voice carries every ounce of emotion on its own, steady and powerful, but full of warmth. That sincerity is what made the song feel so timeless; it wasn’t just about hitting the notes, it was about meaning them.
Revisiting On the Wings of Love today feels like a little time capsule from when love songs aimed straight for the heart, no tricks or irony. It captures an innocence that’s rare in modern pop—back when melody and emotion were enough to lift you. For February, it’s the perfect reminder that sometimes the purest expressions of love come from nothing more than a beautiful voice and a song that believes in what it’s saying.
On the Wings of Love
Just smile for me and let the day begin You are the sunshine that lights my heart within And I’m sure that you’re an angel in disguise Come take my hand and together we will rise
On the wings of love, up and above the clouds The only way to fly is on the wings of love On the wings of love, only the two of us Together flying high, flying high upon the wings of love
You look at me and I begin to melt Just like the snow when a ray of sun is felt And I’m crazy ’bout ya, baby, can’t you see I’d be delighted if you would come with me
On the wings of love, up and above the clouds The only way to fly is on the wings of love On the wings of love, only the two of us Together flying high, flying high upon the wings of love
Yes, you belong to me and I’m yours exclusively Right now we live and breathe each other Inseparable it seems, we’re flowing like a stream Running free flowing on the wings of love
On the wings of love, up and above the clouds The only way to fly is on the wings of love On the wings of love, only the two of us Together flying high, together flying high
On the wings of love, up and above the clouds The only way to fly is on the wings of love On the wings of love, only the two of us Together flying high, together flying high Upon the wings of love, of love
How many westerns do you know that open with a graduation ceremony at Harvard? I can only think of Michael Cimino’s Heaven’s Gate.
Today’s scene that I love comes from the controversial 1981 epic western. Some people feel that Heaven’s Gate is a secret masterpiece. I’m not quite one of those people but I do think the Harvard graduation scene was a great way to launch Cimino’s idiosyncratic vision of the Old West.
4 Shots From 4 Films is just what it says it is, 4 shots from 4 of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 Shots From 4 Films lets the visuals do the talking!
Today, it is time to celebrate the birth of one of the most intriguing (if uneven) filmmakers of the 20th Century, Michael Cimino! It’s time for….
4 Shots From 4 Michael Cimino Films
Thunderbolt and Lightfoot (1974, directed by Michael Cimino, DP: Frank Stanley)
The Deer Hunter (1978, dir by Michael Cimino. DP: Vilmos Zsigmond)
Heaven’s Gate (1980, dir by Michael Cimino, DP: Vilmos Zsigmond)
The Year of the Dragon (1985, dir by Michael Cimino, DP: Alex Thomson)
What a romantic song. Of course, this was originally heard in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service. It turned out that James Bond and Tracy didn’t have all the time in the world.
Welcome to Late Night Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Mondays, I will be reviewing CHiPs, which ran on NBC from 1977 to 1983. The entire show is currently streaming on Prime!
Who will be Jon’s partner this week? Read on to find out!
Episode 5.7 “Bomb Run”
(Dir by Phil Bondelli, originally aired on November 15th, 1981)
I was really hoping that this would be another episode with Caitlyn Jenner playing Steve but no, Ponch was back. (Erik Estrada is the better actor of the two but Jenner’s performance is often so bizarre in its utter blandness that it becomes fascinating to watch.) This episode opened with Baker observing as Ponch piloted a small airplane. CHiPs was all about the California lifestyle and apparently, a big part of that lifestyle was being able to take off in a small private plane whenever you felt like it. Ponch thinks that he’s ready for a solo flight but Baker tells him that he still needs to work on his landing skills. Sorry, Ponch, you’re not a Kennedy.
The highway patrol is preparing for the big air show. Officer Baricza (Brodie Greer) is surprised when he sees his ex-girlfriend, Terri (Kristin Griffith), hanging out around an airplane and preparing to take part in the show despite the fact that she has always been scared of flying. What Baricza does not know is that Terri and her father (Ed King) have planned a big robbery to take place during the air show. While Terri drops bombs from the airplane, the explosions will cover the sound of two safecrackers (played by Brion James and Taylor Lacher) blowing open a safe and stealing a bunch of bearer bonds. However, things get complicated when the safecrackers illegally park their car (which leads to a helicopter towing it off, carrying it through the sky). Things get even more complicated when Terri’s father has a heart attack when they’re in the air and Baker and Ponch have to perform a mid-air rescue.
So, how does Baricza react to his ex-girlfriend being a criminal? We never find out. Ponch roughly lands Terri’s plane and then show pretty much ends. As a result, we don’t know what happens to Terri and her father. We don’t know if the police succeeded in catching the safecrackers. We don’t even know if Terri’s father merely passed out or if he actually died up there. Instead, Getraer makes a joke about Ponch’s terrible landing skills and we get the familiar CHiPs freeze frame.
This episode featured a lot of airshow stock footage and it was pretty obvious that the plot was secondary to showing off all of the planes doing fancy maneuvers in the sky. It felt a bit lazy on the part of the show’s producers but I also imagine that this episode was also fairly cheap to produce. There’s more stock footage than plot. As a result, the ending is a bit unsatisfying. Is Baricza upset about Terri being a criminal? Who knows? He certainly does seem to be amused by Ponch’s landing though!
Welcome to Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Mondays, I will be reviewing Miami Vice, which ran on NBC from 1984 to 1989. The entire show can be purchased on Prime!
This week, Tubbs gets kidnapped and the entire episode is oddly dull. Presumably because it’s the final season and no one was paying attention, the show took a risk and it did not pay off.
Episode 5.13 “The Cell Within”
(Dir by Michael B. Hoggan, originally aired on March 10th, 1989)
Former criminal Jake Manning (John P. Ryan) has apparently reformed himself. As getting busted by Tubbs, Manning spent years in a tiny cell where he read Shakespeare and Dostoevsky. Sponsored by renegade film director Robert Phelps (L.M. Kit Carson), Jake is now a free man and a published author. Tubbs is convinced that Jake has changed his ways and when Jake invites him to a dinner party, Tubbs accepts.
(Crockett is on vacation, spending time with his son. During his brief appearance on the episode, Crockett jokes about what a great book he and Tubbs could write if they were ever arrested. Uhmm …. you were arrested, Crockett. Remember when you were a drug lord? The show appears to have forgotten but I haven’t.)
Anyway, it turns out that Jake has built a prison under his house where he keeps undesirables locked up and every few days, he electrocutes them. He kidnaps Tubbs so that Tubbs can see and hear about Jake’s view of how justice should be meted out. Jake likes to talk and talk and talk and talk.
Ugh, this episode.
I’m honestly surprised that I got through this episode because it was just so mind-numbingly dull. The show attempted to do something different with its format and that’s fine. But Jake was so long-winded and his cartoonish prisoners were such thinly drawn stereotypes that it didn’t take me long to lose interest. I’ve never liked episodes of cop shows that center around hostage situations or kidnappings. It’s hard to build much narrative momentum when no one can really move around. It gets boring to watch and that was certainly the case here. That John P. Ryan spent most of the episode wearing a flowing robe did not help matters. It made him look like a Saruman cosplayer at a Lord of the Rings convention. I probably would have laughed if it all hadn’t been so dull.
As always, it’s interesting to see Tubbs at the center of a story but even the normally smooth Philip Michael Thomas didn’t seem to know what to make of all these nonsense. As I watched Tubbs rather easily fall victim to Jake’s trap, I wondered why Tubbs has suddenly become such a stupid character. I mean, seriously, anyone should have been able to see through Manning’s invitation. For Tubbs, this episode was the equivalent of that time Trudy got kidnapped by the alien who looked like James Brown.
All in all, this was not a good episode. It’s the final season so it makes sense that you’re going to get a few clunkers. Hopefully, next week will be better.
Kathleen Kelly (Meg Ryan) owns a children’s bookstore in New York City named “The Shop Around the Corner.” It’s a small, cozy store that she inherited from her dear mother, and it’s part of the lifeblood of who she is as a person, as well as the community itself. Joe Fox (Tom Hanks), on the other hand, is the heir to a major bookstore chain, Fox Books (think Barnes & Noble), that threatens to wipe places like Kathleen’s off the map. As fate would have it, the two meet anonymously online where they trade their hopes, dreams and insecurities through daily e-mails, with both excitedly opening their computers each night hoping to hear those three little words, “You’ve Got Mail.” Things begin to get interesting when Joe plans to open up a Fox Books Superstore just around the corner from Kathleen’s place with neither knowing that they’re real-life business adversaries. When will they find out that they’re enemies in the business world? Can true love find a way in the most difficult of circumstances? And isn’t that why we watch these kinds of movies in the first place?!
I’ll start off by saying that Meg Ryan is operating at the top of her “America’s sweetheart” phase here… she’s cute, sincere, nostalgic, slightly neurotic, and ultimately quite believable as a person who romanticizes her world and truly believes there will always be a place for her small store and the gigantic superstores! I grew up and still live in the state where Wal-Mart started so I definitely know how hard it is for the “mom and pop” stores to compete. Tom Hanks walks a bit more of a tightrope as Joe Fox. He’s likable enough that you want him to be able to win her heart, but he’s also just arrogant enough that you understand why Kathleen resents everything he stands for. Ultimately, Hanks is able to pull it off with enough charm that you still root for him even when he can be a little bit of a jerk at times.
What’s really strange about revisiting YOU’VE GOT MAIL at this point in my life is the fact that it takes me back to the late 90’s when the internet was something new to me and it seemed like something magical. In this movie, the internet connects two souls, and when we hear “you’ve got mail” as they fire up their computers, the movie expects you to feel genuine excitement, without a hint of irony. Compare that with where the world is today with almost any kind of online activity, especially social media. While there are still a lot of positives to be found, it’s sad that going online now is often exhausting, hateful, and stressful! In 1998, though, it was still possible to believe that logging on could lead to something incredible!
Nora Ephron, who directed the film and co-wrote the screenplay, does a good job of presenting a sad reality of the real world underneath this romantic comedy’s love story. “Progress” can be cruel, and it seems like it just can’t be stopped no matter what! I spend a lot of time talking about the wonderful hours I spent in the video stores of my youth. Those stores are all gone now and have been for decades. The stores that replaced them are mostly gone now, and almost all of my movie viewing is now done through online streaming. In YOU’VE GOT MAIL, Fox Books certainly isn’t better than Kathleen’s Shop Around the Corner. As a matter of fact, it’s not nearly as educational or personal. What it is, however, is bigger, cheaper, and more efficient, and that’s what seems to win in the end, just like it did with the local video stores and Wal-Mart. This is where Ephron does her strongest balancing act. Joe Fox and Kathleen Kelly still fall in love despite the fact that the realities of the world around them take their realistic and natural course. A true human connection is made in the most difficult and painful of circumstances, and that ultimately means more than anything else in the film.
Revisiting YOU’VE GOT MAIL now doesn’t feel that much different than revisiting the film that inspired it, 1940’s THE SHOP AROUND THE CORNER, starring Jimmy Stewart and Margaret Sullavan. Both films are time capsules of a world that no longer really exists. However, both films ultimately realize the time-tested truth that it’s our relationships with other people that provides the most meaning to our lives. That’s a truth that won’t change whether we’re writing letters, sending e-mails, exchanging texts or whatever “progress” the human race achieves in communication in the future! I find some comfort in that.
Through the Shattered Lens 