Retro Television Review: Homicide: Life On The Street 5.7 “The Heart of a Saturday Night”


Welcome to Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past!  On Sundays, I will be reviewing Homicide: Life On The Street, which aired from 1993 to 1999, on NBC!  It  can be viewed on Peacock.

This week, Whit Stillman directs a story of pain and tragedy.

Episode 5.7 “The Heart of a Saturday Night”

(Dir by Whit Stillman, originally aired on November 15th, 1995)

The Heart of a Saturday Night is a great episode of Homicide, with the exception of one decision that annoyed the Hell out of me.

It’s an experimental episode.  We watch as the Homicide detectives work three cases — a carjacking the results in the death of a wife and mother, a bar fight at the Waterfront that results in the death of an alcoholic husband, and the assault and murder of a young woman in East Baltimore.  While Bayliss, Giardello, Munch, and Lewis investigate the cases, we see the survivors at a group therapy meeting.  Rosanna Arquette plays the widow of the man killed in the bar fight.  The great Chris Eigeman is the widower of the carjacking victim.  Polly Holliday and Tom Quinn play the parents of the murdered woman.

It’s a bit stagey and talky but it works, largely due to the performances of the guest cast and the intelligent direction of Whit Stillman.  As anyone who has seen any of his films can attest, Stillman is unusually skilled at making conversation compelling.  It’s a powerful episode because it reminds us that while the Homicide detectives are just doing their job, the cases they investigate leave lasting scars on those left behind.  Munch is more concerned with the murder at his bar than the carjacking to which he and Lewis have been assigned but Giardello explains that Munch cannot investigate a crime that occurred at a location that he owns.  Giardello investigated the murder at the bar and one gets the feeling that he largely just wants to get out of the office.  Lewis becomes obsessed with solving the carjacking but we all know eventually he’ll move on because that’s his job.  There’s always going to be another murder.  But for the victim’s husband, life is never going to be the same again.  He’s angry and bitter, especially since he knows the carjackers will probably never be caught.  (At the end of the episode, his wife’s name is the only one still in red on the board,)  His words aren’t always pleasant but he has every right to be angry.  Chris Eigeman’s performance is incredible and heart-breaking.  Even more so than the effective but overwrought Bop Gun, this episode captured the pain of being a survivor.

It’s a powerful episode, up until the the moment that the final member of the therapy group shows up and it turns out to be Dr. Cox.  As good as Michelle Forbes has been in the role, this is the third episode-in-a-row in which Cox suddenly takes center stage.  It’s hard not to feel that the show is demanding that we love Dr. Cox as much as the writers obviously do.  The problem is that this is only Dr. Cox’s third episode.  The constant spotlight on Cox feels hamfisted and a bit premature.  It reminds me of when The Office tried to make us embrace characters like Robert California and Nellie Bertram.  (This is probably the only time in history that The Office and Homicide will ever be compared to each other.)

Other than the awkward inclusion of Dr. Cox at the end, this was a powerful episode.  Homicide took a risk and, for the most part, it paid off.

Retro Television Review: The American Short Story Episode 5: Bernice Bobs Her Hair


Welcome to Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past!  On Saturdays, I will be reviewing The American Short Story, which ran semi-regularly on PBS in 1974 to 1981.  The entire show can be purchased on Prime and found on YouTube and Tubi.

This week, we have an adaptation of the short story that brought F. Scott Fitzgerald his first great literary success.

Episode #5 “Bernice Bobs Her Hair”

(Dir by Joan Micklin Silver, originally aired in 1976)

In this adaptation of a short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald, Shelley Duvall plays Bernice.  Bernice is a socially awkward young woman from the country who, at the start of the glorious 1920s, spends the summer in the city with aunt (Polly Holliday) and her popular cousin, Marjorie (Veronica Cartwright).  Though initially annoyed with having to watch over her cousin, Marjorie eventually decides to teach Bernice how to be a “society girl.”  Marjorie teachers her how to flirt and, even more importantly, Marjorie spreads a rumor that Bernice is not only going to get her hair bobbed (which, at that time, was associated with being a flapper) but she’s going to let all the boys watch.  Bernice goes from being seen as someone who is boring to being someone who is daring and rebellious.  The rumor of her bobbing her hair gives Bernice a mystique, one that will only last as long as there’s a possibility of it happening.

Soon, all of the boys are interested in Bernice and Bernice becomes even more popular than Marjorie.  Marjorie, with her long braids and her cultivated manners, watches in jealousy and horror as the boy across the street, Warren (Bud Cort), suddenly goes from liking Marjorie to liking Bernice.  Marjorie is herself in love with Warren, though one gets the feeling that the love was more about the idea of Warren pining for her than any real desire to be with him.  Realizing that the key to Bernice’s popularity is due to her unfulfilled promise to get hair bobbed, Marjorie tricks Bernice into actually doing it.  Suddenly, Bernice is no longer as popular and her aunt is no longer comfortable with her being seen as a member of the family.  The party invitations dry up and Marjorie once again claims her place as the long-haired society queen.  Bernice prepares to return home but she has one more trick up her sleeve before she leaves.

I liked this one.  Joan Micklin Silver gets wonderful performances from her cast and shows that she, more than even Robert Altman, understood how to best utilize Shelley Duvall’s quirky screen presence.  While this adaptation is dominated by Duvall, I also really enjoyed Bud Cort’s earnest eccentricity as Warren.  (“I’m getting old.” — 19 year-old Warren.)  Finally, Veronica Cartwright gave an intelligent performance, one that kept Majorie from just becoming a one-dimensional villain.  A look at the mystique of popularity and the way that social standards are casually accepted and rarely questioned, Bernice Bobs Her Hair works as both a wonderful short story and a witty short film.