Media: Star Tribune

      heart PaulaMarshall heart

      Published Wednesday, February 10, 1999

      Television: Flight of 'Cupid' being
      grounded by ABC

      Neal Justin / Star Tribune

      The television world has committed its fair share of boo-boos
      this past year: Giving Gordon Clapp an Emmy for his sad-sack
      act on "NYPD Blue." Getting Ally McBeal stuck in the toilet
      bowl. Growing a beard on Dr. Carter of "ER." Revealing the
      should-have-stayed-a-"Secret Diary of Desmond Pfeiffer."

      All these pale in comparison to the news that ABC is drawing
      back its bow on "Cupid." It's a tragic sin -- and completely
      understandable. Audiences have failed to develop even a
      puppy crush on the series, dumping it week after week for such
      fare as the shrinking "Frasier," the gaudy "Veronica's Closet"
      and the lame "Walker, Texas Ranger."

      The network has halted production on the Chicago-based
      show. In all likelihood, Thursday's episode will be the last.

      Be still my wounded heart.

      Love affairs always seem most precious right before they end,
      so forgive the mushiness, but "Cupid" has been consistently the
      most engaging hour of television this season.

      For those who haven't seen it -- and that means all but about
      nine of you -- it's the story of a manic macho bartender, Trevor
      (Jeremy Piven), who believes he's Cupid. According to him,
      he's been banished to Earth and can't return to Mount Olympus
      until he matches 100 couples. The court assigns Claire (Paula
      Marshall), a skeptical psychiatrist and relationship expert, to
      keep an eye on him. It's never quite clear whether he's a goof
      or a god.

      That description may sound like a hybrid of "Touched by an
      Angel" and a Chuck Woolery dating show, but "Cupid" is not nearly that cornball. Creators Scott Winant ("thirtysomething")
      and Rob Thomas have avoided predictable pitfalls by offering
      as many heartbreaking tales as heartwarmers. On one of the
      best hours, a drop-dead gorgeous woman (Christine Taylor)
      claims she's looking for someone who appreciates her mind
      over her body. She connects with a dorky but gallant suitor,
      then leaves him for her old Ken-doll boyfriend. The next week,
      ever-optimistic Trevor sets up a likable hockey coach with a
      terminally ill woman -- only to be shattered when the man dies
      in a freak car accident.

      Rapid repartee

      As for heavenly love between the two leads, the writers have
      taken care of that. She's already got an upstanding boyfriend;
      Trevor believes he'll remain a mortal forever if he acts on his
      overcharged libido. These obstacles create a delicious sexual
      tension, allowing the two actors to engage in the kind of
      fast-paced, witty repartee that Cary Grant and Katharine
      Hepburn used to spit out in screwball comedies.

      Consider the following exchange, delivered in less than 10
      seconds:

      Trevor (blows his nose, then shows used handkerchief
      to Claire): You think that inspired abstract art?
      Claire: That's a revolting concept.

      Trevor: So is eating bait, but sushi caught on.

      Claire: I used to like sushi.

      Trevor: Which is one of the many perplexing concepts of this
      place. Like, how do they ever get deer to cross at the deer
      warning sign?

      It's easy to compare the show to "Moonlighting," which also
      sparkled with sexy, smart banter between Cybill Shepherd and
      Bruce Willis. But "Cupid" is better because, unlike their
      "Moonlighting" counterparts, Marshall actually can act and
      chew her lips at the same time, and Piven, formerly wasted in
      John Cusack movies and "Ellen," doesn't need to break down
      the fourth wall to project his easygoing charm.

      So why is hardly anybody watching? It'd be easy to blame
      ABC, but let's give it some credit. It's the only network that has
      consistently tried to win us over with romantic dramas, such as
      "Relativity" and "thirtysome thing." ABC announced recently
      that it will try to launch at least two romantic comedies and yet
      another romantic drama next season. And the execs have done
      their best to set us up with "Cupid."

      "Our frustration is, we can't get the show sampled," said ABC
      Entertainment president Jamie Tarses last month after the
      network tried unsuccessfully to boost ratings by moving the
      drama from the third circle of TV hell (Saturday nights) to the
      second (Thursdays). "Anybody who sees the show really,
      really likes it. But it's just finding a place where the audience for
      it is going to be home and available. It's hard to do a good
      show, so if you've got a good show, you want to have the
      luxury of letting it fail by virtue of the fact that people are
      rejecting it, not because they simply were unaware of it."

      A final chance

      So the blame points at us -- the cold-hearted, cynical viewers.
      We like our romance in neat little sitcoms or forgettable TV
      movies, where it can't be taken too seriously. If it's going to be
      an hour-long series with passion or even heartfelt sentiment,
      better wrap it up with plenty of backstabbing, double-crossing
      action.

      Take, for example, "Melrose Place." When it premiered in
      1992, it was a sincere attempt to depict young, attractive
      couples trying to balance work and a love life. The ratings were
      horrible. Then producers added Heather Locklear, catfighting
      and other soapy qualities until it became a cartoon hit.

      We have one more chance to redeem ourselves. If every one
      of us tunes in for tomorrow night's episode of "Cupid" (I'm
      talking particularly to those with ties to the Nielsen family), we
      still can save this relationship. If "Cupid" scores higher than
      "Frasier" and "Veronica's Closet," the network will have to
      rethink this breakup.

      Of course, this is asking a lot from TV watchers. To most, it
      means pressing two buttons on the remote control, away from
      NBC's mighty Thursday-night lineup at 8 p.m. and then --
      here's the hard part -- remembering to get it back to NBC
      before the start of "ER."

      Rough work. But then, who said true love was easy?

      Source: Star Tribune Variety