HHHHH
I can remember the day I got the text message from Amy: Ally McBeal is coming to DVD. I vaguely remember actually squealing.
I probably shouldn't admit that, as I can ill afford to take the loss to what few man points I have remaining, but it's true nevertheless.
The long-running series, focused on single female lawyer Ally McBeal (Calista Flockhart) and the odd cast of characters that made up her world, was hailed as an iconic show for women, even though McBeal was often portrayed as a whiny, neurotic and lovesick individual.
The only thing that seemed to make McBeal a supposed icon for women was the sole fact she was a woman.
This "quirky lawyer" formula is David E. Kelley's signature and can be seen in other shows like "Boston Legal" or "The Practice." However, most of Kelley's other quirky characters were male. Ally was his only well-defined woman.
The reasoning behind Ally's delay to DVD was a common one: music rights.
Like most of Kelley's shows, Ally McBeal featured a rich soundtrack that often wove its way into the plot lines of several episodes.
While some producers chose to change the songs in order to expedite the move to DVD (Dawson's Creek being a prime example), Kelley chose to try and negotiate the music rights with the individual artists involved.
He was absolutely right to do this, as so many episodes hinged on a particular song.
Would the episode where the entire cast does some self-affirmational dancing in the mirrors of the unisex bathroom to Barry White's "You're My First, My Last, My Everything" still work if the music were replaced by something from Bjork? I think not.
Music was a guiding hand on this show, and if you couldn't figure out what emotions you were supposed to feel, Vonda Shepherd's warbling would come into the scene as oddly appropriate background music, using the Motown sound to move the plot.
Vonda's singing "The Shoop Shoop Song"; therefore, Ally must be having man problems and it's making her confused. Even a toddler could understand that kind of logic.
Most of the episodes and plotlines still hold up remarkably well, even though the show ended its run in 2002.
Some of the computer-generated graphics seem sophomoric and unnecessary, but I recall thinking they were cheesy when the show originally aired.
The infamous dancing baby, the one thing everyone tends to associate with the show, is still creepy, but babies tend to frighten me anyway.
The show features a phenomenal supporting cast that never really got their due during the show's run. Ally McBeal alumni have gone on to greater roles in other shows, like Jane Krakowski's move to "30 Rock."
Most of my love comes from the nostalgia I feel whenever I watch the show. "Ally McBeal" was a child of the late-Clinton era, my formative period.
"McBeal" was one of the first "grown-up" shows I watched on a regular basis, so it will always have a special place in my heart.
It's certainly not a perfect product, but any true fan of the show or of Kelley's work should go grab this set now.
Trust me, it will make you so happy, you'll have to go home and sing with a hairbrush in front of a mirror.
If there's one thing I've learned from watching, that sort of behavior should be encouraged, so crank up the Barry White and dance away.
Do you like this story? The Plainsman doesn't accept money from tuition or student fees, and we don't charge a subscription fee. But you can donate to support The Plainsman.
