Welcome back to the Deep Dive. Today we are not
just analyzing a TV show. We are stepping into
a time machine. Oh, I love a time machine. Right.
So I want you to picture the world in September
1986. Right on there. Top Gun is just completely
dominating the box office. Yeah. The bangles
are on the radio, you know, walking like Egyptians.
That classic. And shoulder pads, shoulder pads
are massive. I mean, they are structural engineering
marvels at this point. They really were. It was
definitely a time of excess for sure. Yeah. But
specifically, we are looking at a cultural ritual
from that era. Thursday nights. Right. If you
were alive and anywhere near a television set
in America in 1986, you weren't surfing channels.
No, you definitely weren't. You couldn't really.
Exactly. You were parked on NBC. Yeah. That was
the absolute center of the universe. We are talking
about the must -see TV era, but specifically
today, we are cracking open the case file on
season five of Cheers. Now, I know what some
of you listening might be thinking. You know,
oh, Cheers, that's that old show my dad likes
where they yell, Norm! Right, the sitcom with
the bar. But looking at the massive stack of
research we have for today, season five isn't
just a collection of bar jokes. It is... Well,
it's arguably the most high stakes pivotal season
in the history of the sitcom format. I really
don't think that's hyperbole, honestly. You don't?
No, not at all. Because if you study television
history, most shows... have a very predictable
shelf life. You know, they hit a peak, they decline,
and then they kind of just fade away into syndication.
Right, they run out of steam. Exactly. But season
five of Cheers is the exact moment where the
show looked death right in the face and decided
to reinvent itself instead. Wow. This is the
season that ends the defining will -they -won't
-they relationship of the entire decade. Sam
Malone and Diane Chambers. Sam and Diane, yes.
And it's the season that marks the departure
of Shelley Long. Which was huge. It was massive.
And we're going to get into the real nitty gritty
of that decision because it wasn't just an actor
quitting to do movies. It fundamentally changed
the DNA of the whole production. It did. And
the mission for this deep dive is to explore
exactly how a show transitions from a romantic
comedy focused on two people. A two hander. Right.
A two hander into a true ensemble powerhouse.
Yeah. We're going to unpack all the production
secrets, including the fact that they actually
filmed fake alternate endings to trick the studio
audience. Which is just wild to think about for
a sitcom in the 80s. It really is. And of course,
we are going to deeply analyze the specific narrative
arc that led to Diane leaving Boston forever.
We have so much ground to cover, but we have
to start with the cliffhanger. Oh, the cliffhanger.
I mean, talk about leaving people hanging. Season
four ends. Sam Malone, the ultimate Playboy bartender,
picks up. up the phone and makes a call proposing
marriage. Yes. But the camera cuts out before
we see who he's calling. It was excruciating.
Was it the politician, Janet Eldridge? Or was
it his intellectual sparring partner, Diane?
It sounds so quaint now, right? In the era of
streaming where you can just click next episode
to find out what happens. Yeah, you just wait
five seconds. But you have to understand, the
absolute torture the summer of 1986 people had
to wait months and months to find out who was
on the other end of that phone that is agonizing
so let's set the stage properly for this before
we get to the heartbreak and the comedy of the
season we need to talk about the juggernaut that
was NBC at the time we really do Because you
cannot separate Cheers Season 5 from the lineup
it lived in. The best night of television. That's
what they called it. The schedule was incredible.
You had the Cosby Show kicking things off at
8 -0. Family Ties at 8 -30. Cheers at 9 -0. Night
Court at 9 -30. Wow. And then Hill Street Blues,
which later swapped out with L .A. Law at 10
-0. That is just a murderer's row of television.
Oh, it was unbeatable. I mean... The Cosby show
alone was pulling numbers that modern TV executives
would literally kill for. Absolutely. And there's
this concept in TV programming called the lead
in. Right. Shears benefited heavily from the
millions of people who were already tuned in
for Cosby and Family Ties. They just left the
TV on. Sure. You're already on the couch. But
here is the crucial data point for season five
specifically. This is the year. Cheers stopped
just drafting off that lead in and became an
absolute monster in its own right. I was looking
at the ratings data you pulled for this deep
dive, and the numbers are almost hard to comprehend
in our current media landscape. They really are.
By April 22, 1987, Cheers was sitting in third
place overall in the Nielsen ratings. Third place
in the entire country. Let's break down what
that actually means because the metric system
for TV has changed so drastically. Please do.
So Cheers had an average rating of 27 .2. Okay.
A rating point represents a percentage of total
TV households in the country. So a 27 .2 means
approximately 23 .8 million households were tuned
in. 23 .8 million. And that's not people. That's
households. So if you figure an average of, what,
two or three people per household sitting around
the TV. Exactly. You're talking 50, maybe 60
million people watching Sam Malone pour a beer
at the same time. Yes. And then you look at the
share. which was a 41. What does the share mean
exactly? The share is the percentage of televisions
that are currently turned on and in use that
are tuned to your specific program. Oh, wow.
So a 41 share means that if you walk down a street
in America on a Thursday night in 1987 and just
looked in people's windows, four out of every
10 TVs were playing Cheers. Four out of 10. That
is Super Bowl territory. It really is. It's a
true monoculture moment. We don't really have
that anymore outside of live sports or maybe
a... massive finale. Yeah, everyone was watching
the exact same thing. And obviously, when you
have that kind of rapt attention, the advertising
revenue just explodes. I bet. We have a report
in the sources from October 1986, noting that
a single 30 -second commercial break during Cheers
was generating $230 ,000 in revenue. In 1986
money, that's, I don't even want to do the inflation
math on that. It'll make me depressed. That's
millions. But it shows the stakes. NBC could
not afford to mess this up. And the audience
investment was terrifyingly high. It really was.
There's actually a great anecdote in the research
about a telephone survey conducted just before
the season five premiere. Oh, right. The hotline.
Yeah. They set up this 1 -900 hotline and asked
fans to vote on the cliffhanger. Yeah. Who did
Sam call? Janet or Diane? I just love that people
actually paid for a long distance phone call
to vote on a fictional bartender's love life.
It shows the absolute engagement of the era.
And the results were incredibly telling. What
were they? Nearly 140 callers voted for Diane.
Okay. Only about 60 voted for Janet. Wow, so
it wasn't even close. Not at all. The audience
was basically screaming through their phones,
we want the romance, we want Sam and Diane. Which
puts the writers in a really difficult position,
doesn't it? Oh, an impossible position. Because
if you give the audience exactly what they want,
a happily ever after, the tension is completely
gone. The show might become boring. Right. But
if you deny them what they voted for, they might
revolt and stop watching. That is the tightrope
walk of season five. And it begins right away
with the resolution of that cliffhanger in episode
one, which is titled The Proposal. So what happens?
We find out Sam called Diane. Okay, so the fans
get what they want. He called her. But this is
Cheers, so it can't be that simple, right? No.
Diane actually says no. Wait, hold on. I have
to play devil's advocate here for a second. Go
for it. Diane has been pining for Sam in her
own weird, high -strung way for four years. She's
jealous of every single woman he looks at. He
finally proposes and she says no. Is this just
bad writing to stretch the show out? It feels
frustrating when you're watching it, but I think
it's actually very true to the psychology of
her character. How so? Remember the context.
Sam called her right after breaking up with Janet.
Right. Diane is highly insecure. She's neurotic.
She analyzes everything. So she thinks, he's
on the rebound. He doesn't actually want me.
He just doesn't want to be alone. Oh, I see.
So she declines the proposal to protect her own
ego. Okay, that makes sense. So Sam, being Sam.
decides he needs a grand gesture to prove he
means it. And this leads to one of the most famous
visuals of the entire season, the boat scene.
Yes, the sailboat. Cliff Clavin, the resident
bar know -it -all, suggests a romantic setting.
Typical Cliff. So Sam takes Diane out on a beautiful
sailboat in Boston Harbor to propose properly.
And surely, on a beautiful boat, with the wind
in her hair, Out on the water, she says yes.
She refuses again. You're kidding. She cites
Janet Eldridge again, saying he's not over her.
And this is where the famous physical comedy
of the show kicks in. What does Sam do? Sam is
so furious, so completely done with her constant
rejection, that he hops into the tiny emergency
dinghy and just rows away. Leaving her stranded
on the sailboat. Leaving her completely stranded
in the middle of the harbor. That is incredible.
It's a perfect visual metaphor for their relationship
at that point. They're literally adrift. And
then we get the flip -flop. Because they can
never be on the exact same page at the exact
same time. Days later, Diane realizes she made
a huge mistake. She goes back to Sam. She essentially
says, okay, I'm ready. Ask me again. And Sam
says no. You reject her. He tells her the proposal
has expired. Like a carton of milk at the back
of the fridge. Sorry, pass the sell -by date.
Exactly. It's a total defense mechanism on his
part. But this dynamic, Sam chases, Diane runs,
Diane chases, Sam runs, it really defines the
entire first half of the season. It's a dance
of dysfunction. That's a great way to put it.
It feels like the writers were really trying
to exhaust every possible angle of why these
two shouldn't be together, almost to prepare
the audience for the eventual end. Yes, they
were laying the groundwork. There's a mid -season
arc that I found particularly wild in the notes,
the episode Chambers vs. Malone. Oh. This is
a very pivotal one. It starts with Diane being
absolutely convinced Sam is going to propose
again. But he doesn't. He doesn't. He holds out.
But eventually he breaks down and does propose.
And guess what? She says no again. At this point,
I would have thrown her out of the bar permanently.
Sam essentially tries to do just that. He chases
her out. She trips and falls. And she ends up
in a neck brace. Oh, boy. And then in a twist
that is just pure sitcom logic, she takes him
to court. Over a fall? Wait, and a judge gets
involved in their engagement? Yes. The judge
looks at this chaotic, shouting, messy couple
in his courtroom and basically compels Sam to
propose to her right there on the record. Are
you serious? And Diane accepts the proposal.
mostly just to keep Sam from going to jail for
assault or negligence regarding the fall. Well,
nothing screams eternal love quite like a court
-ordered proposal to avoid incarceration. It's
the absolute antithesis of romance, and I think
that's exactly the writer's point. They're showing
us it's doomed. Right. They're showing the audience
that this union is completely forced. It might
be legally binding in that moment, but it's not
organic. It's toxic. And then we have the ring
debacle, the episode Diamond Sam. This story
really highlights the class difference between
them that was always the engine of the show's
conflict. It does. It really brings it to the
forefront. Sam agrees to buy her an engagement
ring, and the price tag is $5 ,200. Wow. In 1987,
that is a massive amount of money for a bartender,
even one who technically owns the joint. I actually
checked an inflation calculator for this. That's
like spending $14 ,000 or $15 ,000 today. Exactly.
And Sam, being a bit cheap and always knowing
a guy who knows a guy, tries to cut some corners.
Classic Sam. He buys a knockoff ring from a shady
friend of Norm's for $1 ,200 instead. Ha! The
classic, it fell off a truck discount. Right.
But... And this is actually really important
for Sam's character growth over the seasons.
He feels guilty about it. His conscience kicks
in. It does. His conscience gets the better of
him. He secretly switches the fake ring back
for the real expensive one. But Diane doesn't
know he switched it back. No, she doesn't. She
finds out about the original deception. She thinks
the ring currently on her finger is the $1 ,200
fake. Oh, no. So in a fit of high class, self
-righteous rage, she throws it right out the
car window. She throws a $5 ,200 ring out the
window onto the highway. Yes. And the look on
Sam's face. Yeah. It's not just comedy in that
moment. It's genuine pain. I bet. It's his financial
ruin literally flying out onto the asphalt. All
of this chaos, the court cases, the lost rings,
the fighting, it's all leading to the season
finale. The big one. The episode titled, I Do
a Do. Now, looking back, that title is a massive
spoiler. It really is, isn't it? But at the time,
people genuinely thought this was it. They thought
they were tying the knot. The wedding is actually
happening in the episode. They're at the altar,
essentially. But the writers needed a powerful
catalyst to stop it from going through. So they
brought back the original villain. Exactly. Sumner
Sloan. For listeners who haven't memorized the
pilot episode from years prior, Sumner Sloan
is Diane's ex -fiance. Right. He's the stuffy
literature professor. who brought her to the
bar in episode one and then completely abandoned
her there to go run off with his ex -wife. So
his return is perfectly symmetrical. He started
the entire series, and now he's here to end this
chapter of it. He brings a deus ex machina with
him. He tells Diane that a very prominent publisher
is impressed with one of her manuscripts. A lifeline
to her old dreams. But he gives her a harsh warning
along with it. He says, if you marry Sam, you
will become a barfly. You will never finish this
book. You will lose your brilliance. It's the
cruelest thing he could possibly say to her,
but is he wrong? That's the real tragedy of the
scene. He might not be wrong. And this is where
Sam Malone really surprises us as an audience.
What does he do? Throughout the series, Sam has
been selfish, he's been womanizing, and often
very shallow. But in this specific moment at
the altar, he sees the look in Diane's eyes.
He knows her too well. He sees that she actually
wants to finish the book. more than she wants
the marriage and he makes the agonizing decision
for her he does he completely takes the burden
off her shoulders he persuades her to cancel
the wedding he tells her to go pursue her dream
it is a moment of genuine heartbreaking selflessness
from a character not known for it he lets her
go because he loves her enough to want her to
be happy even if it's not with him and diane
makes a promise as she leaves she says i'll be
back in six months i'll be back in six months
it is one of the most famous lies in TV history.
It gives me chills just thinking about it. Sam
says, have a good life under his breath as she
walks out the door. Yeah. He knows she's not
coming back. We know she's not coming back. It's
absolutely devastating. But let's peel back the
curtain a bit here. This narrative arc wasn't
just a purely creative choice by the writers.
It was a production necessity. Oh, absolutely.
We need to talk about Shelley Long. Right. This
wasn't a case of the writers getting bored with
the character of Diane or feeling the romance
had run its course. Shelley Long herself wanted
to leave the show. When did she decide this?
She announced her plans way back in January 1986.
Wow. So before season five even finished, let
alone season six. Exactly. Before season six
production would have even been a thought. And
by December 1986, the decision was a completely
done deal. Why leave the biggest show on television?
I mean, it was a juggernaut. The usual reasons
you see in Hollywood? She wanted to concentrate
on her film career. Right. She had movies like
True Beverly Hills and Outrageous Fortune coming
up. And she also wanted to focus more on her
family. The network sitcom grind is really demanding.
Contrast that with Ted Danson's situation. Complete
opposite. Ted Danson signed a brand new contract
for the 1987 -1988 season. He was locked in.
So the producers were left with a major math
problem. Exactly. We have Sam, but we don't have
Diane. Yeah. We can't have them happily married
and living in different cities. It completely
kills the comedy of the show. So they really
had to break them up. There was no other way.
They had to. And as a result, they decided to
completely pivot Sam's character moving forward.
What was the new strategy for him? They wanted
to strip away the emotional heaviness of the
long -term relationship and make him a carefree
bachelor again. A goof off. They wanted to bring
the lightweight fun back to the bar. And obviously
they had to start searching for a replacement
female lead, someone who looked and felt very
different from Shelley Wong. Right, which eventually
leads to Kirstie Alley. But that's a whole different
story. Now, I really want to get into the security
measures surrounding this finale because this
sounds like something straight out of a spy novel.
It really does. We hear about Marvel filming
fake scenes today to avoid script leaks on Reddit
or Twitter, but Cheers was doing this in 1987.
They were intensely paranoid about leaks. They
knew that if the real ending leaked, the fact
that Diane actually leaves Sam at the altar,
it would completely ruin the suspense and potentially
hurt the ratings. So what do they do? They filmed
three entirely different endings for I Do A Do
right in front of the live studio audience. Three.
Walk me through them. Okay. Ending number one.
Sam and Diane actually get married. They went
through with it. They say the vows, they kiss,
the crowd goes wild, the audience cheers. Imagine
being in that studio audience, right, thinking
you just saw television history and then watching
the show months later at home and seeing a totally
different ending air. It must have been so confusing.
Then ending number two was the real one. She
accepts the offer to finish the novel and leaves
the bar. And the third. There was a third ending
film that remains unrevealed to this day. Rumor
has it, it was just a very vague cliffhanger
to keep everyone guessing. Did anyone ever see
that fake wedding footage? The one where they
actually tie the knot? It sat hidden in a vault
for over a decade. It finally aired in 1998 on
a special hosted by Fox. That is so cool. But
just think about the sheer cost and effort to
script, block, rehearse, and film a fake wedding
just to keep a secret from the press. That is
next -level dedication to the story. Now, while
all this intense Sam and Diane drama was sucking
up all the oxygen in the room, something else
was happening quietly in the background of Season
5. Yes, the evolution of the ensemble. This is
really the core thesis of our deep dive today.
Season 5 is the bridge. It really is. It's where
cheers prove it isn't just the Sam and Diane
show. The supporting cast... steps up in a massive,
massive way. They had to. The writers were testing
the waters to see if this show could survive
without its central romance. Let's talk about
Frasier Crane. Kelsey Grammer is finally in the
opening credits this season. He's officially
made it. He has. And we really see the solidification
of his relationship with Lilith Sternen, played
by the absolutely incredible Bebe Neuwirth. She
is brilliant. Now, here's a shocker for you.
Bebe Neuwirth is only in two episodes this entire
season. That feels completely impossible. She
looms so large in the show's overall history.
It really speaks to the power of her performance.
The episode Abnormal Psychology is an absolute
masterclass in comedic acting. Remind me what
happens in that one. Frasier and Lilith go on
a television talk show to debate psychiatric
theories. But it's not really an academic debate,
is it? No, it's entirely foreplay. They are using
this incredibly dense, dry academic jargon, but
the subtext is purely sexual. They start playing
footsie under the table while aggressively discussing
Freud on live TV. And then Fraser takes her home.
He does. Lilith literally lets her hair down.
And in this season, despite her very limited
screen time, they actually become engaged and
move in together. That's a huge step for his
character. It gave Fraser a real life outside
of just... Being the pretentious guy Diane dumped
at the altar in season three. It made him a fully
realized independent character. And then we have
Carla Tortelli. She finally gets a love interest
who fits her perfectly. Eddie Lebec. The French
-Canadian goalie for the Boston Bruins. It's
such a hyper -specific Boston trope, but it works
perfectly for her. It works because it taps directly
into Carla's deep -seated superstition. Yeah.
In the episode Never Love a Goalie, Carla becomes
completely convinced she has a jinx on him. Why?
Every single time she dates him or goes to a
game, the Bruins lose. So she breaks up with
him for the good of the hockey team. Exactly.
Yeah. It shows her true priorities. Her loyalty
is to the Bruins first and romance is a distant
second. That is so funny. But they reconcile
when he finally breaks his losing streak and
wins a game. It's a great arc because it gave
Rhea Perlman Something vulnerable to do besides
just standing around insulting people. Speaking
of Carla, we have to talk about the House of
Horrors episode. Oh, this is such a great B -plot.
Okay. Carla buys a house that is suspiciously
cheap. Always a red flag. Right. She soon finds
out it was built directly on top of a 17th century
prison graveyard. Ookie. The walls shake violently.
Bright lights flash through the windows at night.
She naturally thinks it's poltergeists punishing
her. Of course she does. But then she finds out
the mundane truth. The house is just located
directly under the very low flight path of Logan
Airport. And her reaction to that news is just
priceless. Most normal people would be devastated
by the noise pollution. But Carla is immensely
relieved. She screams, it's just a 747. She doesn't
mind the deafening noise at all. She just didn't
want ghosts in her house. It's a perfect specific
character beat. Now what about the guys holding
down the end of the bar? Cliff and Norm. They
are essentially the Greek chorus of the show.
In season five, we see the writers really experimenting
with giving them more agency in their own storylines.
Like Norm's business venture. Yes. Norm tries
to start a business called Tan and Wash. A laundromat
and tanning salon combined into one storefront.
It's a terrible, terrible idea. And it collapses.
Literally collapses. The roof caves in, right?
The roof caves in from heavy snow because Norm...
being Norm, didn't bother to secure insurance.
Oh, Norm. It reinforces the core truth of his
character. Norm is lovable, but he is fundamentally
a loser in the outside business world. He truly
belongs safely on that bar school. And Cliff
has his own disaster this season in an episode
called Dog Bites Cliff. He meets a woman named
Madeline Keith. He thinks he's found true love.
But there's a catch. There is always a catch
with Cliff. It turns out she's only dating him
to butter him up and trick him into signing a
legal liability waiver. Because her dog bit him.
Exactly. It's incredibly cynical, but it's very
funny. It cements their roles on the show. They
are the constants. While Sam and Diane have this
operatic, high -stakes romantic drama, Cliff
and Norm are dealing with minor dog bites and
terrible business investments. It really grounds
the show in everyday reality. We also have to
mention Woody Boyd. Woody Harrelson had a real
-life incident that completely bled into the
production, didn't he? He did. Woody Harrelson
actually broke his arm in real life while practicing
for the Toyota Grand Prix celebrity race. A legit
car crash. A legit car crash. So he shows up
to the set to film with his arm in a giant cast.
And the writers just rolled with it. They had
no choice. In the episode One Last Fling, Woody
has a cast. When the other characters ask him
about it, he just waves it off and says he has
a tiresome story about it. Which is a great meta
joke. It was a total meta wink to the audience
who probably already read about his real -life
car crash in the tabloids that week. I want to
zoom in on one specific episode that I think
proves the ensemble theory better than any other
piece of evidence. Episode 9, Thanksgiving Orphans.
Oh, yes. If you are teaching a college class
on sitcom writing, this episode is on the syllabus.
The premise is incredibly simple. It's Thanksgiving
Day. None of the lonely hearts at the bar have
anywhere else to go. Right. So they all decide
to crash at Carla's new house. It takes the characters
entirely out of the bar, which is always a risky
move for a workplace sitcom, and puts them in
a claustrophobic pressure cooker. And everything
goes wrong. Everything. The food is a disaster.
Yeah. Norm's giant turkey is completely frozen
solid. The house is freezing cold. And Diane
shows up uninvited, of course, dressed head to
toe as a pilgrim. Because of course she does.
And she forces these hungry, cranky people to
do a traditional long -winded Thanksgiving prayer.
It's unbearable. The tension just builds and
builds. Everyone is starving, freezing, and annoyed
with each other. And then it finally explodes.
It explodes into one of the most famous, chaotic
food fights in television history. And I really
want to highlight the technical difficulty of
filming this scene. Why is it so hard? You can't
easily do a food fight twice on a sitcom set.
The set gets completely destroyed with actual
food. The wardrobe gets ruined. So they had to
get it in one take. Essentially, yes. If you
watch the scene closely, you can actually see
the actors slipping and sliding on the mashed
potatoes on the floor. That wasn't scripted acting.
No, that was genuine physical chaos. They were
legitimately struggling to stay upright while
throwing peas at each other. And there's the
incredible gag at the very end with Norm's wife,
Vera. The longest running joke of the entire
series is that we never ever see Vera's face.
But in this episode, she actually rings the doorbell
and walks through the door. The audience gasps.
Yes. The studio audience genuinely thinks we
are finally going to see her. And then splat.
Diane winds up to throw a pumpkin pie, misses
her intended target completely, and hits Vera
square in the face right as she walks in. It's
brilliant. Vera just stands there, her face completely
covered in thick pie filling. We still don't
see her face. It is an absolute genius piece
of physical comedy and staging. TV Guide actually
ranks this episode number seven on their list
of the 100 greatest episodes of all time. It
deserves it. And I think it's because it showed
that this disparate group of barflies is actually
a family. They bicker, they insult each other,
they throw yams at each other's heads. But at
the end of the day, they are together. Exactly.
Even without the heavy Sam and Diane romance
driving the plot forward, that episode works
flawlessly. It proved to the network that the
show had real legs to stand on. There are a few
other standout episodes from season five we should
definitely mention, Simon says, featuring the
legendary John Cleese. This is the British invasion
of Cheers. John Cleese plays Dr. Simon Finchwise,
who is this very uptight British marriage counselor.
He is basically the anti -Cheers character. Completely.
He hates the bar environment. He hates the casual
people in it. And he tells Sam and Diane exactly
what we've all been thinking. Their relationship
is completely doomed. He is the ultimate voice
of reason. He observes them for a bit, looks
at them dead in the eye, and says, you two are
a disaster. You shouldn't be together. But they
don't accept that. No. They're so deeply annoying,
so relentlessly persistent, that they basically
torture the poor man until he breaks down and
lies to them. He just gives up. He finally screams,
you're going to be very happy, just to get them
to shut up and leave him alone. Cleese actually
won an Emmy for Outstanding Guest Performer for
that single episode, and it is so well -deserved.
It was a perfect clash of acting styles. You
had Cleese's manic, elevated British energy completely
clashing with the laid -back, grounded vibe of
the Boston bar. And we absolutely cannot forget
Cheers, the motion picture. Oh, another classic
ensemble piece. The gang tries to make a home
movie to convince Woody's strict parents that
Boston is a safe, happy place. Because they want
him to move back to Indiana. Right. But the bar
regulars are absolutely terrible filmmakers.
It's a complete horror show. It is. They inadvertently
film Sam looking like he's threatening a helpless
puppy. Oh, gosh. Norm is just aggressively binge
eating in the background of a shot. And worst
of all, you can clearly see a suicidal jumper
outside the window of Frazier's office. It makes
Boston look like a terrifying dystopia. It really
does. But then Diane gets her hands on the raw
footage. And she decides to fix it. She edits
it into what is described as a Godardesque montage.
Very avant -garde. It's highly pretentious, artsy,
and completely unintelligible to a normal person.
It perfectly captures that core conflict of Diane's
high culture pretension versus the bar's gritty.
blue -collar reality. So we've looked at the
big episodes, the romantic drama, the massive
departure of the lead actress. Now comes the
big historical question. How was this season
actually received when it aired? That's the real
test. Losing Shelley Long is a massive, massive
blow to a hit show. Did the critics at the time
think Cheers was dead in the water? The initial
reaction was very mixed. In 1987, emotions were
running really high among the critics. Or the
same. Well, Kathy Carlisle at the LA Times was
very pro -romance. She wrote that she felt the
writers completely betrayed the loyal audience
by not letting them get married. She felt cheated.
Exactly. But then, on the other side, you had
Monica Collins writing for USA Today. What did
she say? She was absolutely brutal. Oh, really?
She called the character of Diane a snitty, selfish
snob in print and said she was actively relieved
to see her finally leave the show. Wow. Tell
us how you really feel, Monica. She really felt
the character had become suffocating to the rest
of the cast. But if we look at the retrospective
reviews, you know, critics writing about the
DVD box sets years later, looking at the season
as a complete piece of work, the consensus really
shifts, doesn't it? It does. Significantly. When
you remove the immediate emotion of the cliffhanger,
the analysis is much kinder. Like Jeffrey Robinson's
review. Right. Jeffrey Robinson, a DVD talk called
Season 5, a great improvement over Season 4.
And Adam Arsenault over at DVD Verdict gave the
entire season a 96 % grade. That's a solid A
-plus in the television world. The prevailing
feeling now among TV historians is that the show
absolutely needed this hard reset. It cleansed
the palate. The acting held up beautifully, and
the writing was sharper than ever because they
had to work harder. We often talk about the concept
of jumping the shark on this show. Usually when
a main titular character leaves a hit series,
that is the definitive shark jumping moment.
That's when the show starts to suck, usually.
Right. But Cheers seems to be the rare exception
to the rule. By pivoting hard to the ensemble
format and by bringing in Kirstie Alley in season
six, which is a massive topic we'll cover another
day, they managed to not just survive, but stay
in the top 10 ratings for years and years. Season
five was the bridge. It safely took us from the
two -hander Sam and Diane show to the sprawling
ensemble cheers show we remember today. Absolutely.
It was the painful growing pains necessary for
the show's incredible longevity. Without a doubt.
Well, before we wrap up today's deep dive, I
have a little piece of weird production trivia
that I stumbled upon in the notes. And it feels
like a glitch in the Matrix. Oh, I love these
weird little details. What is it? Okay, so there
is an episode. late in Season 5 titled The Godfather
Part 3. Okay, sure. But if you look at the calendar,
this episode aired in March of 1987. Right. The
actual Francis Ford Coppola movie, The Godfather
Part 3, wasn't released in theaters until 1990.
That is bizarre. The sitcom writers were acting
as unintentional prophets. Either that or maybe
Francis Ford Coppola was just a huge Cheers fan
on Thursday nights and got the title idea from
them. I choose to believe that version of history.
It's much funnier. We may never know the truth.
All right. As we finally close the book on the
chaotic, brilliant season five, I want to leave
you listening with a provocative thought to mull
over. Let's hear it. We know for a fact they
filmed that secret alternate ending where Sam
and Diane actually got married at the altar.
The happily ever after cut sitting in the vault.
Right. If they had aired that version. If Shelley
Long had decided to stay on the show, would Cheers
have survived another six seasons? It's the ultimate
television what if. Would it have worked? There
is an old saying in comedy writing rooms. Happiness
is the enemy of funny. Right. Conflict is comedy.
Think about a happy, settled, married Sam and
Diane just dealing with mundane domestic issues
in the bar. That sounds like a completely different
show. And honestly, maybe a boring show. So the
heartbreak we saw was actually the fuel keeping
the engine running. I firmly think so. The pain
of the breakup kept the hunger alive. It allowed
Sam to be the rogue Sam again. And crucially,
it allowed the amazing ensemble cast the room
they needed to breathe and grow. It was necessary
pain. Painful as it was for the hardcore shippers
in 1987, I think losing Diane saved the series.
A tough pill to swallow for the romantics out
there, but very hard to argue with the history
books and the ratings that followed. Thank you
so much for joining us on this deep dive into
the absolute pivot point of 80s television. It
was an absolute pleasure talking about it. We'll
see you next time at the bar. Cheers.