Mary's new friend, Joanne, is attractive, successful, polished...but she doesn't seem to take to Rhoda.Mary's new friend, Joanne, is attractive, successful, polished...but she doesn't seem to take to Rhoda.Mary's new friend, Joanne, is attractive, successful, polished...but she doesn't seem to take to Rhoda.
Storyline
Did you know
- TriviaThe title is based on the platitude "Some of by best friends are..."
- SoundtracksLove Is All Around
Written and Performed by Sonny Curtis
Featured review
Some of My Best Friends Are Craven, Misshapen Polemics
As part of the new generation of 1970s American television situation comedies that consciously broached social issues, making a significant break from 1960s escapist fare, "The Mary Tyler Moore Show" embraced feminism with its focus on thirtysomething Mary Richards, a single woman starting a career in television news while still trying to find a romantic partner.
But unlike Norman Lear's string of similarly-minded sitcoms ("All in the Family," "Good Times"), whose pronounced social commentary was central to their narratives, this gently satiric workplace comedy weaved its editorial viewpoints into its storylines with, if not subtlety, then at least with a lack of stridency.
At least until "Some of My Best Friends Are Rhoda," whose very title, a play on the bigot's stock excuse for prejudice ("some of my best friends are (fill in the blank with the appropriate target)"), leaves little to the imagination. Steve Pritzker's clunky script attempts to be coy about its maladroit reveal, which only makes the hammer clang even more discordantly when it does drop.
Moreover, the cast, which by this point in the series' run, the end of its second season, had meshed into an appealing unit that interacted with a nearly seamless rapport, appears ill at ease with the material as it affects a staginess that suggests unfamiliarity or else a lack of direction from Peter Baldwin (who had already directed a half-dozen episodes), although Ed Asner simply plays up his crabbiness with his Lou irritably storming to and fro. Ironically, Valerie Harper, whose Rhoda is the "appropriate target" for the bigotry, is the only one able to play it naturally.
The die is cast from the start when Mary enters her apartment with Joanne Forbes (Mary Frann), who had just rear-ended Mary's car, and immediately their chemistry feels forced. Pritzker's characterization of Joanne is hardly artful--to settle up the damage to Mary's car, she asks if she can pay Mary directly instead of engaging her insurance company as she'd been in another accident recently; throughout "Some of My Best Friends," Mary has to tactfully remind Joanne about the money she owes her. Mary Tyler Moore's easy engagement is noticeably absent, replaced by an artificial manner that softens only slightly as the episode wears on; meanwhile, Frann's polite coolness toward Harper, once Rhoda comes in to deliver the comedic interlude, manages not to give the game away. At least for now.
Pritzker's narrative devices--Mary and Joanne belonged to the same sorority at their respective colleges; they both play tennis--establish the basis for a new friendship, one that delights Phyllis, impressed by Joanne's membership in a tony tennis club, although Rhoda, who does play tennis with Mary, soon becomes the odd one out in a series of seeming snubs that smack of obvious contrivance; at one point, as a harried Murray answers Mary's office phone and relates her whereabouts to Rhoda, which will only compound Mary's apparent disregard for their friendship, gasps from the live studio audience can be clearly heard.
And when the big reveal finally arrives, it delivers perhaps the most leaden thump of the series' seven seasons, with Moore displaying a side of Mary Richards hitherto unsuspected while crudely underscoring the ham-handed message that lands with all the delicacy of a hurtling pig crashing to Earth. Unnaturally performed and artlessly crafted, like community theater preaching a message of religious intolerance, it is painful to watch if only out of empathy toward Moore and Frann, saddled with a symbol and not a character, making even the title of "Some of My Best Friends Are Rhoda" sound like a craven, misshapen polemic.
REVIEWER'S NOTE: What makes a review "helpful"? Every reader of course decides that for themselves. For me, a review is helpful if it explains why the reviewer liked or disliked the work or why they thought it was good or not good. Whether I agree with the reviewer's conclusion is irrelevant. "Helpful" reviews tell me how and why the reviewer came to their conclusion, not what that conclusion may be. Differences of opinion are inevitable. I don't need "confirmation bias" for my own conclusions. Do you?
But unlike Norman Lear's string of similarly-minded sitcoms ("All in the Family," "Good Times"), whose pronounced social commentary was central to their narratives, this gently satiric workplace comedy weaved its editorial viewpoints into its storylines with, if not subtlety, then at least with a lack of stridency.
At least until "Some of My Best Friends Are Rhoda," whose very title, a play on the bigot's stock excuse for prejudice ("some of my best friends are (fill in the blank with the appropriate target)"), leaves little to the imagination. Steve Pritzker's clunky script attempts to be coy about its maladroit reveal, which only makes the hammer clang even more discordantly when it does drop.
Moreover, the cast, which by this point in the series' run, the end of its second season, had meshed into an appealing unit that interacted with a nearly seamless rapport, appears ill at ease with the material as it affects a staginess that suggests unfamiliarity or else a lack of direction from Peter Baldwin (who had already directed a half-dozen episodes), although Ed Asner simply plays up his crabbiness with his Lou irritably storming to and fro. Ironically, Valerie Harper, whose Rhoda is the "appropriate target" for the bigotry, is the only one able to play it naturally.
The die is cast from the start when Mary enters her apartment with Joanne Forbes (Mary Frann), who had just rear-ended Mary's car, and immediately their chemistry feels forced. Pritzker's characterization of Joanne is hardly artful--to settle up the damage to Mary's car, she asks if she can pay Mary directly instead of engaging her insurance company as she'd been in another accident recently; throughout "Some of My Best Friends," Mary has to tactfully remind Joanne about the money she owes her. Mary Tyler Moore's easy engagement is noticeably absent, replaced by an artificial manner that softens only slightly as the episode wears on; meanwhile, Frann's polite coolness toward Harper, once Rhoda comes in to deliver the comedic interlude, manages not to give the game away. At least for now.
Pritzker's narrative devices--Mary and Joanne belonged to the same sorority at their respective colleges; they both play tennis--establish the basis for a new friendship, one that delights Phyllis, impressed by Joanne's membership in a tony tennis club, although Rhoda, who does play tennis with Mary, soon becomes the odd one out in a series of seeming snubs that smack of obvious contrivance; at one point, as a harried Murray answers Mary's office phone and relates her whereabouts to Rhoda, which will only compound Mary's apparent disregard for their friendship, gasps from the live studio audience can be clearly heard.
And when the big reveal finally arrives, it delivers perhaps the most leaden thump of the series' seven seasons, with Moore displaying a side of Mary Richards hitherto unsuspected while crudely underscoring the ham-handed message that lands with all the delicacy of a hurtling pig crashing to Earth. Unnaturally performed and artlessly crafted, like community theater preaching a message of religious intolerance, it is painful to watch if only out of empathy toward Moore and Frann, saddled with a symbol and not a character, making even the title of "Some of My Best Friends Are Rhoda" sound like a craven, misshapen polemic.
REVIEWER'S NOTE: What makes a review "helpful"? Every reader of course decides that for themselves. For me, a review is helpful if it explains why the reviewer liked or disliked the work or why they thought it was good or not good. Whether I agree with the reviewer's conclusion is irrelevant. "Helpful" reviews tell me how and why the reviewer came to their conclusion, not what that conclusion may be. Differences of opinion are inevitable. I don't need "confirmation bias" for my own conclusions. Do you?
helpful•15
- darryl-tahirali
- Apr 6, 2023
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