From the Files of “Police Squad!”: Leslie Nielsen, ZAZ, and Professionally Silly Humor
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(Courtesy IMDb) |
When Airplane! was first released in the summer of 1980, it represented a new kind of film comedy. This zany and irreverent classic not only lampooned aerial disaster movies that preceded it, but did so while playing serious drama for laughs.
In the early-1970s, around the same time as Woody Allen, Monty Python, and Mel Brooks, Wisconsin-based writers-performers David Zucker, Jim Abrahams, and Jerry Zucker (collectively known as ZAZ) founded the Kentucky Fried Theatre in Madison, WI, combining performance with multimedia projection in outrageous and unconventional ways. They made their film debut with the screenplay for the outrageous sketch comedy feature, The Kentucky Fried Movie (directed by John Landis) in 1977. Three years later, they made their directorial debuts with Airplane!
The fact that they cast actors known for playing serious dramatic roles on TV and in film (including Peter Graves, Lloyd Bridges, and Robert Stack) was what made the comedy and satire work, giving these men opportunities to laugh at themselves. Another actor that played a key role in this mix was Leslie Nielsen, who was known for parts in prior genre entries like 1957's Forbidden Planet and 1972's The Poseidon Adventure. (The deadpan line, “Don’t call me Shirley,” comes from him.) Again, playing it straight was part of the joke. The trick, then, isn’t being funny. The trick is not trying to be funny.
Many elements in Airplane! couldn’t be done today, including jokes about pedophilia, bestiality, oral sex, religious zealots, and cocaine snorting. Such elements or the like would be staples of subsequent comedies with zany plots and hijinks, including those by ZAZ, the Farrelly Brothers, and South Park creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone.
What’s interesting, on the other hand, is that Airplane! has a simple through-line, with an estranged couple at the center (Robert Hayes is a former war pilot, and Julie Hagerty is a stewardess), who have to safely land the titular plane after most of the crew and passengers get food poisoning. The movie also works as a real ensemble piece, with several hysterical moments of slapstick and banter. ("Jim never has a second cup of coffee at home." "I speak jive." "I take it black, like my men.") The film is even a favorite among real airline pilots.
After spending three decades as a serious dramatic actor (and when he was in his early-50s), Airplane! almost single-handedly changed Nielsen’s screen career. And it was this experience that convinced the Zuckers and Abrahams to cast him in a lead role for a television show that parodied police procedurals. Originally planned as a movie, the ZAZ trio instead decided to make a TV series, as they initially figured their brand of visual and deadpan humor wouldn’t be able to sustain a 90-minute runtime. Hence, Police Squad! was created, and Nielsen would be headlining as Sgt. Det. Lt. Frank Drebin. (You read that right.)
Along with Nielsen’s dry, humorous narration, some of the show’s trademarks included alternative episode titles spoken instead of what appeared on-screen, as well as puns in second act screen titles (i.e., "Act II: Bruté," "Act II Ball III," "Act II Gusundeit," say these all fast). “Guest stars,” like Robert Goulet, William Shatner, and Florence Henderson, never made it past the opening credits, while characters—well, mainly Nielsen’s Frank and Alan North’s Ed Hocken—would take the elevator to different “floors” of the police station, and act out/satirize “freeze frames” during the end credits; a great one involves coffee, and another shows a suspect trying to escape through the TV screen.
Recurring characters included tall officer Al, whose face was never seen; Johnny the shoe shiner (William Duell), who apparently knew everything and, for a price, gave advice to famous faces like Joyce Brothers and Dick Clark; and lab scientist Ted Olson (Ed Williams), who gave bizarre lessons to students and acted as Q to Drebin's Bond.
The Zuckers and Abrahams wrote and directed the pilot episode, titled "A Substantial Gift (The Broken Promise)," which centered on a bank murder and embezzled cash. Circumstance included a play on words and names during a preliminary interrogation (i.e., Twice, Teller, Fell), comic deaths a la Monty Python, a trip to the dentist's office that parodied a famous line from David Lynch's The Elephant Man (and showed off Nielsen’s comic timing and delivery), and reveals involving numerous wigs. "We would’ve come earlier," declares the straight-faced Drebin, "but your husband wasn’t dead then."
After helming the lycanthropic horror feature The Howling, Joe Dante directed the second episode, “Ring of Fear (A Dangerous Assignment)." A parody of Rocky, Frank infiltrates as a boxing manager to take down a gang of crooked gamblers. Despite references to apparent suicides, highlights in this episode include a game where players bet with cash, Monopoly bills, and stuffed animals, as well as a steam room brawl. Oh, and a sewer exit.
This episode's "guest star," George Stanford Brown, helmed the next show, titled “The Butler Did It (A Bird in the Hand)." Co-written by actor-comedian Robert Wuhl, the plot involves a kidnapping at a wealthy birthday party (with a projected “take” of the scene of the crime replayed), a ransom made via a mime that literally crashes in, and a subplot involving an escaped zoo suspect. While a certain "zebra" joke may not work today, other key gags include upside-down reading, extra hands behind the wheel of a driver's seat, and trying to keep a kidnapper on the phone while attempting to trace the call. Frank even shows off some impressive basketball skills while questioning a key witness.
Paul Kransy directed Episode 4, titled “Revenge and Remorse (The Guilty Alibi)," in which Police Squad tracks down a local bomber who's been dismantling courtrooms and numerous vehicles--and affecting radio stations. Visual gags involve perspectives of feet, a food court in the police station, a donation bin, an ironic bit about regular and decaf coffee (with energetic and hysterical results), a telephone wire, and Frank and Ed slurping coffee and munching donuts. My favorite moment: a police interrogation that's intercut with a completely different conversation in the background.
Reza S. Badifi directed Episode 5, titled “Rendezvous at Big Gulch (Terror in the Neighborhood),” which parodied elements of James Bond and The Godfather, as Frank sets up a locksmith shop in a mob-occupied neighborhood. Recurring gags about keys getting stuck on the ceiling and falling whenever the door slams, as well as prehistoric times, are amusing. A frightened dance instructor does a funny play on the cliched “Look out, he’s got . . .” line. Just as Episode 3 had a shot of bikini-clad women on a beach, Episode 5 features a femme fetale making subtle suggestive references, as well as Frank intercepting a telephone call with such. "Who are you, and how did you get in here?" I'm the locksmith, and I'm a locksmith."
Dante and Wuhl returned to direct and co-write Episode 6, titled “Testimony of Evil (Dead Men Don’t Laugh),” which opens with a club entertainer accused of double crossing, before being drugged and hallucinating roller coasters and fighter jets to his untimely demise. Frank soon acts as an enforcer at the same club to get clues about potential drug trafficking, while acting as a stage performer and making the crowds go wild. Key visual gags take place in a city morgue (with a "this little piggy" bit) and in a parking garage, where a certain vehicle is demolished to look for cocaine. Despite those edgy elements, it's a treat watching Frank getting the crowd in hysterics and singing Judy Garland tunes, a testament to Nielsen’s versatility as a performer/actor/natural comedian.
Only the first four episodes aired on ABC in 1982 before the network decided to pull the plug. Interesting that the sixth and last episode literally went out with a fourth-wall bang. One reason for the show's cancellation, as Nielsen later described in interviews, was “you had to pay attention.” To be fair, Police Squad! was a show that was ahead of its time. Then, when it was released on home video a few years later (2 VHS tapes, 3 episodes per video), it developed a following as viewers were more able to spot the numerous visual gags, puns, and references. This reevaluation apparently convinced the ZAZ team (and Paramount) to create a feature film as they originally intended, with David directing and Nielsen returning.
Movie deal?
Yes, I know.
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