home
***
CD-ROM
|
disk
|
FTP
|
other
***
search
/
TIME: Almanac 1993
/
TIME Almanac 1993.iso
/
time
/
052091
/
0520250.000
< prev
next >
Wrap
Text File
|
1992-08-28
|
4KB
|
79 lines
VIDEO, Page 64A Little Too Flaky in Alaska
By RICHARD ZOGLIN -- With reporting by Sally B. Donnelly/Los
Angeles
NORTHERN EXPOSURE
CBS; Mondays; 10 p.m. EDT
It's a little town up north, out west. Everybody knows
everybody else -- and everybody else's business. Remoteness has
given the community a touch of spirituality, not to say
weirdness. Several residents have a propensity for prophetic
dreams, and ghosts have been known to walk down Main Street. So
has the occasional moose.
Twin Peaks? No, that was last year's quirky small town
that gained a cult following. The latest destination for fans
of the outlandish and the In-jokish on TV is the village of
Cicely, hard by the Arctic Circle in the state of Alaska. Among
the town's 500 inhabitants is one reluctant interloper: Joel
Fleischman (Rob Morrow), a New York City native who has been
forced to move there as the sole doctor in order to fulfill his
medical-school scholarship.
Northern Exposure, which debuted last summer and has
returned to CBS for a late-season run, is this spring's hottest
conversation piece. Fans in big cities from New York to San
Francisco are entranced by the backwoods whimsy; so are Sunbelt
viewers like Bonnie Mintz, a court clerk from Winter Park, Fla.,
who started the first Northern Exposure fan club. In Alaska the
series has prompted some grumpy newspaper stories (THIS MAN
THINKS WE'RE A BUNCH OF PSYCHOTIC RED-NECKS, blared one headline
next to a picture of star Morrow), but viewers are warming to
it. Says Tom Tatka, an Anchorage attorney who moved to Alaska
20 years ago: "It gives a good sense of this isolated state."
For creators Joshua Brand and John Falsey (St. Elsewhere), it's
really a state of mind. "We used Alaska more for what it
represents than what it is," says Brand. "It is disconnected
both physically and mentally from the lower 48, and it has an
attractive mystery."
The show's popularity is no mystery. Northern Exposure is
less a realistic picture of Alaskan life than a big-city
yuppie's romantic small-town fantasy. There is no bigotry or
narrow-mindedness in this small town; the residents are all
closet highbrows. The townspeople read D.H. Lawrence and quote
Voltaire; the local tavern plays Louis Armstrong and Mildred
Bailey on the jukebox. For Joel there's a cute, available brunet
(Janine Turner) and a philosophical Native American pal (Darren
E. Burrows) who is conversant with movies like The Wages of
Fear. Gosh, it's not even that cold; the characters may be
bundled up in parkas, but we never see their breath. That's what
shooting near Seattle will do.
The show has some nice touches. Joel's Jewishness is
refreshingly up-front, and it's good to see a few Native
Americans on TV for a change. But this domesticated Twin Peaks
is too precious by half. In one episode, Joel's friend conjures
up an Indian spirit to help locate his father; the town deejay,
meanwhile, has his voice stolen by a beautiful girl. One
whimsical fantasy per episode, please. The show's patronizing
attitude toward small towners is more subtle but just as
annoying. One episode makes snide fun of the tavern owner's
19-year-old girlfriend, who gets a satellite dish and becomes
addicted to tacky TV fare like Wheel of Fortune and the Home
Shopping Network. God forbid somebody in a remote Alaskan town
should actually pass the time watching TV. What would Voltaire
think?