Tossed Salad and Scrambled Eggs

It is highly unlikely that I will ever be asked to appear as the castaway on Desert Island Discs, but I cannot be the only person who, in idle moments, has tried to imagine what records and book I would take were I ever to be asked to be on the show. And frankly, I would find choosing just eight records and one book quite a tall order; my choice would in all probability depend on my mood at the time and what I had recently been listening to or reading. When it comes to my luxury item, however I find myself quite certain in my choice; it would be the box set of Frasier (hopefully the necessary equipment to watch it would be provided).

There is no doubt in my mind that if Frasier isn’t the best comedy series ever made it must be in the top five, although in its early years it seemed not to attract the same sort of publicity as another famous American sit-com. I can recall the hullabaloo when Friends was first broadcast in the UK; Val and I sat down to watch the first episode and were somewhat underwhelmed, and more than somewhat put off by the whoopin’ and a-hollerin’ of the studio audience. Our attitude towards Friends has softened somewhat over the years, but I still don’t believe that it can hold a candle to the travails of Seattle radio psychiatrist Frasier Crane and his family.

The first time that Frasier came to my notice was one Friday when I returned from an evening out and Val told me about a show she had watched and thoroughly enjoyed. The episode was (we later ascertained), “Kisses Sweeter Than Wine” in which Frasier arranges a wine tasting session to help with his attempts to become maitre de chez at his wine club. In moving his father’s chair, Frasier dents the wooden floor; he calls a repairman whose efforts to repair the damage lead only to one more job after another. By my reckoning, assuming that Val watched the first airing of this episode, this was August 1996, by which time Frasier had been showing in the UK for over two years. Somehow we had not previously been aware of it; any fanfare that the debut broadcast had must have passed us by.

We may have missed the first two series but since then we have more than made up for it. We habitually record the show, which is still being broadcast consistently by Channel Four, must have watched our box set from start to finish at least twice, and whenever we are at a loose end, will often select an episode at random to fill an idle half-hour.

Neither Val nor I had been fans of Cheers, in which Frasier Crane first appeared, so we had no history with the character but we immediately became enamoured of the show. If you look back at the very first episode, “The Good Son,” the show betrays few of the doubts, flaws or faults that one regularly finds in pilot shows. The characters, although they develop as the series progress, are fully formed. The relationship between Frasier and his father, Martin, is as antagonistic as one might expect from an ex-cop, invalided out of the force, a man’s man, and his intellectual (some might say effete) son and his even more fussy sibling Niles. As the series advance, that father-son relationship changes, evolving from hostility and mutual frustration through acceptance to eventual understanding, and affection.

But it is not just the father-son relationship that makes Frasier so compelling, there are other relationships, between Niles and Daphne, between Frasier and his radio show producer Roz, between Frasier and his ex-wife Lilith and their son, Frederick, and between Niles and his ever present but never seen wife, Maris that make the show such a joy. Unseen characters are a popular device in shows like Columbo (Mrs. Columbo), Dad’s Army (Mrs. Mainwaring), Minder (‘Er Indoors) but Maris must be television’s most unforgettable. Oddly, and I know not why, the most memorable unseen characters all appear to be female.

A major strength of the show is its ability to use varying and contrasting styles. High farce as in “The Ski Lodge” with the constant confusion over who thinks who is lusting after whom; slapstick as in “Three Valentines” when David Hyde Pierce as Niles attempts to iron a crease out of his trousers, and disaster ensues when they catch fire and he loses control of the fire extinguisher, or the pathos of “Moon Dance”, the classic episode in which Daphne teaches Niles to dance. Unaware of Niles’ infatuation with her, Daphne accompanies him to a ball at which he first declares that he adores her; she treats this as his acting to impress everyone in the room.

Although undoubtedly Frasier was a starring vehicle for Kelsey Grammer, the ensemble cast (John Mahoney, Peri Gilpin, David Hyde Pierce and Jane Leeves, never forgetting Moose and later, Enzo as Eddie) were never left simply trailing in his slipstream; they were full rounded characters who often took centre stage. Peripheral characters such as Bob “Bulldog” Briscoe (Dan Butler), Gil Chesterton (Edward Hibbert) and a whole raft of KACL station managers, like Kate Costas (Mercedes Ruehl) and Kenny Daly (Tom McGowan) were also memorable; all were given ample opportunity to share the best lines. And of course, there was Frasier’s ex-wife, superbly portrayed by Bebe Neuwirth, who has become part of the fabric of life in the Woods household following our acquisition of a mannequin (don’t ask), which we immediately christened Lilith.

"Lilith"

Some sit-coms outstay their welcome, not holding to the showbiz maxim “always leave them wanting more” and by series ten, that may have been a view some would hold about Frasier. It began with Niles and Daphne finally marrying, which removed a lot of dramatic tension and comedic possibilities; the series reached its nadir (in my view) with the episode “Enemy at the Gate” and later drifted into the maudlin with Niles being taken to hospital suffering from a heart condition. The introduction of the Julia Wilcox character (Felicity Huffman) perked up the storylines no end and the episode “Fathers and Sons” is a classic, which would hold its own in any of the series. Fortunately the writers girded their loins and the final series, series eleven, was packed with outstanding episodes and by the end, in “Goodnight Seattle” the loose ends had been tied and although we bade farewell to Frasier, Martin, Niles, Roz and Daphne with a heavy heart, it was with the consolation that there would be no “going through the motions” to sully the marvellous memories that the preceding two hundred and sixty two episodes had given us.

Marty Crane and that chair.

 Of all my favourite Frasier episodes (and there are many), if I had to choose just one that epitomises the show, that has slapstick and farce and that sparkles with wit, it would have to be “An Affair to Forget” in series two. After Niles has fought German fencing instructor Gunnar (whom he suspects of having an affair with Maris) with swords, Frasier, translating through Marta from English to Spanish to German, is involved in the following dialogue:

Gunnar: Maris ist unwiderstehlich.

Marta: [to Frasier] No me puede contralar.  Maris est irresistible.

Frasier: [to Niles] He couldn't help himself, Maris is irresistible.

         [to Marta, in Spanish] Irresistible?

Marta: [to Gunnar] Unwiderstehlich?

Gunnar: Ja.

Marta: Si.

Frasier: O-kayy.

The nuances in “irrestible?”  and “O-kayy” as uttered by Kelsey Grammer are priceless; worth, as they say, the price of admission on their own.

There are so many sit-coms about (and sadly most of them are British shows), that recycle old gags, that flag the jokes up in a “there’s a joke coming; here it is; now wasn’t that funny?” sort of way that Frasier never did, preferring to allow the audience to work it out for themselves. It says a lot about the quality of the writing and of the cast that, in our household at least, we never tire of Frasier Crane and his friends and family, always finding something new, or revelling in the familiar. It is not unusual for a line from one show or another to find its way into everyday conversation.

Goodnight Seattle, goodnight Frasier Crane; gone but never to be forgotten.